Mare’s Tales
by: Beverly Taff

Chapter 30

 

With our long sojourn at an end we finally returned full circle to the same pretty yacht haven we had left so long ago. Things had changed enormously for all of us but not so much as to damage or affect the intense feelings we still had for the friends we had left behind. Margaret, Jane Diana and I were overjoyed to see our centaur friends waving excitedly on the quay as our weather-beaten yacht nosed its way into her old familiar berth.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the centaurs created not a whisper of comment. Their existence was well known throughout the district now and the locals took them in their stride. A few heads turned amongst the foreign visiting yachts but that was of little consequence. More local heads were turned to study the return of the large yacht whose berth had lain invitingly empty for so many years. It had often been used in our absence by visiting yachts but the haven master was more than pleased to see one of his old charges return to her proper place. The arrival of a large weather-beaten sailing cruiser added a certain dimension to the status of the marina. ‘A proper yacht’ as the haven master observed when we berthed.

Jacqueline, Jennifer and Cynthia were literally prancing with excitement as the last ropes were secured and we joined them on the wooden pier. Their hooves were beating out a veritable tattoo of anticipatory pleasure as we hurled ourselves ashore to hug and be hugged in turn.

The three older children, Bernadette, Jeanette and Susan were overjoyed to see their old friends and gleefully wrapped their arms around the centaurs upper human torsos. Our younger children Nicholas, Christine and Pauline simply squealed with delight and demanded to be allowed on their backs. This was agreed and we happily marched off to the marina clubhouse. Here I was delighted to meet Veronica again with two tiny toddlers in her charge. They were Jacky’s and Vee’s babies who had been conceived before we’d left. I could see my likeness and turned to kiss both Jacky and Vee as the children clambered up onto their mother’s backs.

At the Marina office I left the boat in the care of the staff and we entered the restaurant to have a meal. The centaurs had been regulars at the yacht club during our absence and their attendance at the bar and restaurant caused no fuss. They even had their own special ‘table’ installed in a large bay window. They had paid this additional feature from their own funds when the clubhouse had been refurbished so the centaurs were welcome celebrities.

Finally, after a slap up meal we squeezed into the large campervan to make our way home. Once inside the privacy of the van Margaret and I explained about our microchip inserts and the pleasure we could enjoy. The centaurs were excited and intrigued by the operation and expressed a real interest in them. We also discussed the advent of the comet and the consequent worldwide sterility. For the time being though, Margaret, Bernadette and I kept our fertility a secret and exchanged sly smiles as we hugged our desperate secret close to our breasts.

 

As evening fell, we stopped at a pub for a break. I couldn’t help noticing how much my centaur friends were taken for granted and caused little stir amongst the locals. Admittedly we lived only a few more miles up the road and my friends were now often seen out and about. Their ready acceptance however, was great comfort to me as we settled under the orchard trees in the pub garden enjoying our reunion.

The meteor’s appearance had changed many things and the whole perspective of mankind had altered. As the whole human population nervously waited any developments by scientists they had adopted a much more tolerant attitude. Nobody had any idea where the solution was to be found and Debbie’s unique pregnancy in the U.S.A. Had only served to confuse and cloud the issue. My friends told me that they had received many requests to engage in research to try and help resolve the problem. Even to the point of possible impregnation by other species. Less knowledgeable people had thought that the centaur’s condition was a congenital one and were disappointed when informed otherwise. There appeared to be no hope for mankind and every passing year made the issue more desperate.

All this and more, our group discussed as we sat and chatted under the warm dying rays of the midsummer sun. As the soft evening twilight brought an uncomfortable chill into the garden we eventually clambered into the campervan and arrived home in the short dark hours of midnight.

Dear old Dot the maid was waiting up for us and the scene at the yacht haven was repeated again as we exchanged delighted hugs and kisses. We then tumbled into the living room where she had thoughtfully prepared some hot cocoa drinks and biscuits. We did not linger long however. Diana, Margaret and I couldn’t wait to get into the big bed to demonstrate the new microchips and our subsequent enhanced abilities. The prospect of enjoying a nightlong session of uninterrupted pleasure left us tense and eager with anticipation. The centaurs, ever sensitive to atmosphere, sensed our tension and we ended up abed before the cocoa was even finished.

Our titanic performances that night left our friends in no doubt about the benefits of the microchips and they unanimously decided to have them implanted. We decided to do Jane and Jenny first. They had the only other cocks amongst our widening circle and I was to be excessively in demand until they could be ‘done’. We contacted Miss Green who despatched the microchips and Doctor Tomlinson to assist in the operations.

On the second day of our return I was surprised to hear a baby’s cry from Jacky’s bedroom. My blood ran cold with surprise as I tried to imagine what possible explanation their lay behind Jacky’s door. I tapped gently on her bedroom door and a worried voice required me to ‘wait a minute’ Curiously I did as instructed before the door finally opened slightly. Jacky’s nervous face appeared in the narrow gap.

"What d’you want?" She whispered.

"That cry." I replied. "It sounded like a baby. What was it?"

Jacky paused nervously as she fumbled with the chain.

"You may as well come in. You’ll find out soon enough anyway."

I paused at the threshold of the bedroom as she stared dejectedly at the floor. My eyes settled on a large crib device where I noticed a blanket with something moving underneath.

"Good god!" I gasped with shock. "Have you got a baby?"

"Uhmm. Not quite." Murmured Jacky as she gently leant over the cot and gently peeled the blanket back to reveal a little baby’s head.

There was a soft gurgle of delight as the baby looked up and smiled before Jacky lowered the side of the crib. I gaped with shock as she gathered up the blankets and strained gently as she carried the large bundle to her bed. The entire bundle was far too big to be a human baby and I lurched forward with surprise as a corner of the blanket flopped down to reveal a foal’s hoof. For a few seconds I was dumbstruck as she gently laid the bundle on the bed and clambered up onto it herself. Then she settled down with her pony legs tucked under her and the extended bundle laid gently alongside her on the bed. She gently took the human torso and lifted it to her human breasts where the baby began to suck greedily on it’s mid-morning feed.

Jacky looked at me and smiled with pleasure as her baby nestled in her arms with the lower part covered in the blanket. I stared at the foal’s legs protruding out from under the rear edge and finally came to my senses.

"Good god! Jacky. "Have you gone mad? Is that a baby centaur?"

"Yes." She replied defensively. "I have as much right to a baby as anyone else! Her name is Jemma."

"But what in God’s name possessed you? Do you realise what society will do when they find out?"

"Yes. It’s going to be the first step towards solving the fertility problem. It may end up being the only straw they can clutch at."

I stopped suddenly as I realised what she was saying. My centaur friends had been secretly tackling the infertility problem by following the interspecies path. Jacky’s baby had been the first result. I smiled softly as I realised that they had enjoyed a large measure of success. Gently I sat beside Jacky and pulled the blanket off the baby.

It was obvious that the baby had been born a centaur and was not a baby grafted onto a foal. I softly stroked the downy golden flanks as I investigated the baby’s form.

The baby was wearing a nappy cleverly covering its front parts and Jacky observed my interest.

"Yes, Jemma is just like the rest of us."

"You mean you achieved it with genetics?" I gasped.

"Of course. It was the only way."

"Who’s eggs did you use?"

"We used Cynthia’s human egg for the baby part and one of my own pony eggs for the foal."

I stared mesmerised at the perfect little centaur as it suckled greedily away.

"And you conjoined the eggs in a dish before implanting?" I conjectured.

"Yes. There was a lot of genetic engineering but it’s worked. Clever aren’t we."

"I’ll say. But how did you get the fertilisation to succeed?"

"We discovered that at a critical phase if we conjoined a fertilised pony blastis with one of Veronica’s genetically engineered eggs we could get a successful transplant and foetus."

I shook my head with amazement As Jacky continued.

"The problem is that all the centaurs end up as female in both parts, although we think we can make the next centaur like Jenny, with a stallion’s lower portion."

"No human male babies though?"

I observed.

"’Fraid not. No way around that one yet. There’s no male sperm to work on."

"So there is still little hope of the necessary biological diversity so essential to evolution and advancement."

Jacky shrugged her shoulders as she gently transferred her baby’s mouth to the other breast. The centaur’s little legs paddled helplessly on the bed and I realised that Jemma’s motor development was following a human pattern. She would not be able to walk for several months yet, this was of course, totally unlike a foal that would get up and scamper off almost immediately.

"Her intellect and things. All human I hope?"

"Yes. That was the most important factor. Emma is as helpless as a human baby and will develop like one."

To emphasise this Jacky gave her baby a gentle hug as she softly rocked Emma in her arms.

"Did you carry her to full term?"

"Yes and bore her like any mare. Mothering is a huge learning curve but I’ve got lots of willing helpers."

I smiled and kissed Jacky softly. She had finally achieved her lifelong ambition and ‘had a baby’. For her, the meteor had been lucky event. It had given her and my friends the opportunity to give Jacky a baby without any moral concerns. Humanity had far bigger problems on its plate. I replaced the blanket and sat up on the bed as Jenny entered.

"Well-well daddy. I believe congratulations are in order."

Jenny smiled and clambered onto the bed beside Jacky.

"Small beginnings Bev. We should be getting some progress now that you and Margaret are back."

I smiled inwardly. Little did they know?

"I’m sure we will. This is all a secret though I presume?"

They nodded their heads in unison as Emma eventually stopped suckling and Jacky’s attentions turned to her nappy. I sniffed and smiled as I realised just how human Emma was.

"Well. Nappy days are over for me. No more babies for me."

"Bev." Observed Jenny softly. "They are over for all of us unless we can solve this comet-sterility thing."

I bit my lip as I realised I might had said something I shouldn’t. Jenny was as sharp as ten razors and she was already studying me with a queer expression. I made my excuses and prepared to leave as Jenny and Jacky attended to Emma’s nappy. It took two people to handle her easily. A baby centaur was quite a handful and two pairs of hands were needed to stop the legs kicking while changing a nappy. I smiled to myself. It would be interesting to see what sort of chaos a centaur ‘toddler’ would create. Four clumsy little hooves were going to be an interesting situation when she got to be really curious. I reflected that only the centaurs would be able to catch her once she really got going.

 

 

The innocent curiosity of a human child coupled with the boundless energy and mobility of a foal was going to be enormous fun. I chuckled to myself as I wandered downstairs.

As I entered the main hall the crunch of tyres on gravel announced the arrival of Doctor Tomlinson from America. Dot and I greeted her and led her inside. She enthused ecstatically about our home and demanded to be shown the whole place before even considering the work we had planned.

"Gee this is a really old place. I love old country houses." She beamed.

Patiently Margaret and I led her on the ‘grand tour’ as her strident voice echoed along the corridors and through the rooms.

Eventually we bumped into Veronica and Cynthia as they were carrying some trays of test tubes between labs. Doctor Tomlinson let out a shriek of pleasure and rushed forward to greet them.

"Heck I’ve been dying’ to meet you guys. Ever since Bev and I met in New Orleans."

Before Vee and Cye had a chance to put down the trays, the excited doctor was all over them inspecting their various anatomies. Vee and Cye took it in good part until she insensitively tried to investigate their more personal parts.

"Excuse me. Do you mind?" Scolded Vee softly as she laid a restraining hand on Doctor Tomlinson’s arm. "We are not laboratory animals."

The doctor crimsoned and realised she had made a serious faux pas and apologised effusively.

"No harm done and no offence taken." Added Cye forgivingly. "You’ll have all the time in the world to see what we’re made of when we have the implants."

"Gee. I- I’m sorry eh- eh-" She hesitated, not sure how to address my friends.

"Call us ladies. That’s how we think of ourselves." Smiled Vee.

"Yeah- uh yeah, Ladies. I’m a sorry miss."

"Apologies accepted. No harm done. Call me Cye, everybody does. Actually, your reactions were quite subdued compared with others we’ve met." Confided Cye. "Let’s go and meet Jenny and Jacky."

"Are they the others?" Asked the doctor.

"Yes. They’re in the nursery."

Doctor Tomlinson’s eyes widened uncertainly. She was puzzled.

"What. You mean they- they’re pregnant?"

"You’ll see when you meet them. Come on follow me." Invited Vee.

The Doctor trotted eagerly after Veronica as Cye, Margaret and I returned to the labs with the samples. When we met again later the doctor was still chattering about Jemma. It was several minutes before we could get her to discuss the implants. It seemed the more she learned about my friends the more fascinated she became.

The following morning we had a general meeting were the various aspects of everybody’s sexuality was discussed and a strategy was evolved.

Jane decided to be ‘switched on’ first. Her operation would be straightforward and we desperately needed another rampant cock. Her operation was immediate and within a few days we had the desired addition to our group. Nights assumed a more relaxed and settled air as each of our friends had a larger share of my and Jane’s delights.

 

We had to spend a longer time checking and researching the various sexualities of my friends before they finally had suitable implants. Doctor Tomlinson had to completely re-programme the chips to accommodate the equine sexualities coupled to the human libidos. Eventually, suitable microchips were programmed and Jenny was able to share her delightful new stamina with Jet. She could now produce her stallion’s erection on demand for the infinite pleasure of the others. More importantly, Vee, Cye and Jacky were able to activate her cock so that Jenny could be reduced to the state of a sex slave, always available when the others felt horny.

Eventually, all the centaurs were implanted and within a month, our group had become a closed network of lovers who could ‘contact’ each other by secret means whenever they felt horny.

Needless to add, Doctor Tomlinson had secretly left me with the ‘master zapper’. My friends were not aware of this and I secretly hugged myself with anticipation at the thought of being able to ‘call up’ any of my friends as and when I felt horny.

My first experiment was to seek out Vee and quietly ‘switch her on’ with some very low powered sensations. The gentle stimulation without a climax left her hopelessly aroused and she actively sought me out to satisfy her desperate needs. Neither Vee nor any of my friends ever realised that only Margaret and I had the ‘bypass’ facility to get past their own on-off switches. I had some very interesting times, gently exciting all and any of my friends whilst they genuinely thought that they were having natural urges.

Eventually that long happy summer gave way to the inevitable golden days of autumn. Jane had to return to pick up the reins of her family stevedoring business whilst Diana had to resume her post in the university.

The day had arrived for Margaret and I to take our children to Miss Lanes. For the three older ones, Bernadette, Jeanette and Susan, it was a resumption of their ordinary education and it held little if any particular excitement. They would be senior pupils in the upper school and free to enjoy the privileges so pleasurable to that rank.

For the younger children, Nicholas, Christine and Pauline, it was their first day at a boarding school and everything was to be new and exciting. Some things had changed at the school but essentially the same reign prevailed.

Margaret returned as school physician and would be responsible for the microchip implant surgery. We all recognised it as an excellent process for training and discipline. All new pupils were to be so treated and even some of the older pupils were to be treated retroactively if their parents agreed. Lots of parents agreed and were pleasantly surprised at the changes in their children. Many a recalcitrant young boy-girl was to become a model pupil and child.

This now left me alone again with my centaur friends and Dot. After two years out of circulation I was quite keen to get back into some research project.

My four friends had been regularly bombarded with mail from the academic world concerning the sterility problem and beseeched me to join them. At first I feigned reluctance so they dragged me to see Diana at the university. There Diana pleaded and almost bullied me into helping them with their studies.

 

"Look Bev," she nagged, "your research into genetics is well known and your friends have already moved someway down the path with Jemma’s conception. I think it only right and proper of you to help humanity in this it’s darkest hour."

"You’d better not mention Jemma just yet," I warned. Veronica and Jenny would never forgive you."

"Well are you going to help or not?" Chided Diana.

Pretending reluctance, I allowed myself to be ‘persuaded’. Any research that was supported by the university would be an ideal cover for my plans. I could keep my fertility a secret whilst pretending to re-discover a new ‘elixir of life’.

"Oh O.K. then," I agreed, feigning resignation, "but I want freedom to follow my own ideas and explore my own avenues with my friends."

"Oh don’t worry Bev. The college will be more than happy to let you go your own way and they will help you with the new licensing rules about worldwide efforts and moral questions. Nobody has got near a solution yet."

"O.K. It’s a deal then. I’ll use my own resources and any discoveries will be licensed to us. If it’s successful, we will do a share deal with the college for any development."

Diana nodded.

"I’ll have to settle it with the college principals but I think that’s a deal. The only thing is that research on any human foetal material has to be sanctioned through us by the world fertility research council."

I almost hugged myself as we broke off for lunch. We dined in the staff refectory were a few familiar faces smiled as we entered.

"Glad to see you back ladies. Are you joining us on the fertility project?"

We smiled and nodded our agreement before taking our places at lunch. Diana had already approached her departmental bosses and our deal was a foregone conclusion. As we drove home later we chatted happily about what avenues to explore. I was almost bursting to tell my friends the real truth but it was just to early yet.

" What strategies have you tried so far?"

"Well mainly cloning but it’s not satisfactory. We still haven’t been able to reproduce any fertile male material. The meteor’s radiation actually damaged or altered the genetic code. Virtually every male cell has been rendered incapable of reproducing itself correctly. We just don’t understand the primary triggers of cell replication as to sexual selection," admitted Jacky, our specialist bio-engineer. "It seems to go back further than D.N.A, almost to the primordial amino acids."

"So even with all our store of genetic mapping we haven’t got there."

"Fraid not." Admitted Cynthia dejectedly.

But with our full licence to work on foetal material we should be able to get somewhere. We should be able to find some way of creating human babies."

 

"That’s all very well," argued Jacky, " but how do we intend to literally create a male human zygote to enable selection and genetic variation. That’s the age-old question. Look we’ve gone over all this ground before. It does my head no good to tread the same old paths. I was hoping you’d come up with some new ground." She finished irritably.

I smiled inwardly and wondered if it was safe to divulge my secret. I decided to have a long chat with Margaret and Bernadette that weekend. The rest of the drive home was spent in reflective silence.

The remainder of the week produced little joy. I pretended to lock myself away in my labs and appeared to spend long hours deep in thought and testing different theories. My friends simply plodded on with their earlier work with occasional forays into my office in the hope of any breakthrough. At the weekend I took my leave and visited Margaret at Miss lanes, ostensibly to try and get some inspiration.

Luckily, Jeanette and Susan were playing hockey away to another school. Bernadette, like me, was never able to represent the school. Her cock would have been a dead give away in the showers. This provided an ideal opportunity for the three of us to get away and discuss our tactics.

We took a picnic and drove onto the moors. There in a remote little valley by a stream swollen with autumnal rain we discussed what to do.

"Don’t forget Bev. The more people who know about your fertility, the more dangerous it gets."
"I know that Maggie. Nobody knows that better than Bernadette and I. But, as Jacky points out, there’s no apparent way that we - or anybody else for that matter-, can re-create a genetically accurate human sperm. The nearest anybody has got to it is the hominid ape and god knows what that has done to the brainpower. God alone knows what grotesque failures there are lying around in labs all over the world. I shudder to think. Even with the entire genetic mapping we’ve done, the brain genome is a vast field. It’s the biggest single variable between man and ape."

"You mean it’s acting like God again?"

"Precisely. We have no sperm to go on so we have no way of determining what is right and what’s wrong. We haven’t got a template. Unless we use ours." I finished ominously.

We sat in silence as the stream’s wild chatter flooded into our thoughts. Bernadette handed me some tea and I shuddered protectively. ‘God forbid if someone got hold of her.’ She saw me shiver and read my thoughts then sat beside me on the blanket.

"Mummy, d’you think we’ll have to go public?"

"Not if I can help it."

"But how can we disguise our genetic profile even if we produce the sperm anonymously."

"That’s the problem my darling. Our genetic profile is too well documented. They would soon recognise it when they compared with our own researches when we did the centaurs."

"So we’d have to disguise the genetic profile then." Suggested Bernadette.

I studied Bernadette. She wasn’t just a pretty face.

"Go on." I prompted as Margaret moved closer to listen.

"Well mummy, they’d recognise our genetic profile because we are virtually the same, and even if we pretended that it had come from a test tube they would still recognise it, especially aunty Jacky. She’s got a mind like a razor."

"Agreed." I nodded.

I knew only too well how intuitive and penetrating Jacky could be.

"So why don’t we alter enough of the genetic profile to try and disguise the sperm, then make it public as though we had managed to produce it in the labs."

I mulled the idea over in my mind. I had toyed with a similar idea before but it was strange how Bernadette and I thought along similar lines. I hugged her gently. We both knew the risks but it seemed a plausible avenue of approach. Bernadette continued.

"I think the first task is to establish if we have any genetic differences. If there are differences then we can adopt any we discover as the points of divergence. It’ll throw people further off the track."

I turned to Margaret who was smiling readily. The collection of Bernadette’s sperm was going to be a regular task that she would enjoy. Bernadette caught our glances and giggled defensively.

"I knew it. You want to start now."

"Well it’s a good as time as any."

Bernadette scrambled to her feet and scampered along the path. As she brushed past me she splashed my tea over my skirt and I squealed after her.

"Come here you minx. Look what you’ve done."

"You’ll have to catch me first mummy!" She shrieked as she turned and laughed.

It was impossible for me to catch Bernadette for she had not been modified like me. She could run all day if necessary. Margaret just shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands defeatedly. I wagged my head and searched for a cloth to wipe my skirt. As I rummaged through the picnic hamper that Bernadette had prepared, I inadvertently found her zapper.

"Well! Well! Now we’ll see." I gloated victoriously as I held it up for Margaret to see.

Then I twiddled briskly with the controls and Bernadette almost stopped in mid-stride as a pulse of pleasure throbbed through her loins. She staggered against a tree trunk and lay with her back against the bole of the tree as her hips rotated helplessly and her thighs mashed together.

Like a fly trapped in a web she mewled and whimpered as Margaret and I took our time preparing a sample jar. Eventually we strolled towards the helplessly twitching Bernadette and slowly raised her frock. There, bulging under her knickers was a splendid erection with just enough tumescent agitation to keep her from running or walking but not enough to start ejaculating.

Gently Margaret and I raised her hem and peeled her knickers over her suspenders down her soft milky thighs. Poor Bernadette gave of a helpless squeak as I slowly turned up the zapper to produce the desired result. Her swollen little organ started to throb and twitch as a violent spurt of semen splattered into the sample jar, which we had slipped over the end. Bernadette gave of a series of squeals as the rhythmic pulses of her penis pumped jet after jet of the precious liquid into the jar.

"Oh mummy, stop please." She gasped as I studied the growing sample.

"You shouldn’t leave this were it can be easily stolen." I scolded softly as I twiddled with the control. "You could be reduced to nothing more than a sex slave if some irresponsible person found it."

"Oh yes Mummy. I agree. Anything you say mummy. Please switch it off now."

 

Margaret looked up and nodded her head. We had enough sperm for several months testing. I gave Bernadette her zapper back and she frantically fumbled with the controls in her desperation to stop her orgasms. She twisted the controls the wrong way by mistake and her hips gave off one cataclysmic thrust. She staggered out of control and dropped the zapper then fell to her knees with a moan of despair and scrabbled in the undergrowth as her buttocks and hips tossed and gyrated in overload. Eventually she found the zapper again and clasped it tightly as she concentrated on correcting the settings. Slowly her writhing subsided and she endeavoured to pull her grass stained knickers over laddered stockings. Reproachfully she glared at Margaret and I before scampering off to the car to change her underwear. Margaret and I smiled at each other as she stoppered the sample bottle.

As we returned to the car we found Bernadette sulking as she tried to clean the stains from the front of her frock. It was no use so I produced a frock from my suitcase, which she angrily snatched off me and slipped over her head. I then lent her some of my makeup to help her repair the damage. As Margaret and I cleared up the picnic, Bernadette busied herself in the vanity mirror. By the time we had tidied up she was in a happier frame of mind and even tried to suppress a smile as she watched us through the mirror.

It did not go un-noticed and Margaret and I exchanged sideways glances as we packed the hamper away. As a nice surprise we let Bernadette have a driving lesson and she drove all the way back to the school. It was a happier young lady that clambered out of the driving seat as Jeanette and Susan enviously watched our arrival. After staying for tea I returned home with the precious sample. There was a lot to do.

My first task was to break the shocking news about my fertility to my friends and I decided to wait until our next Tuesday morning’s strategy meeting. At these meetings we bounced ideas off each other and discussed any likely developments. It was an ideal time to drop any bombshells. Margaret and I both knew that it was hopeless trying to disguise the identity of the sperm. My genetic records and profile were too well known to Jenny and Jacky. They would spot the source within minutes of working with the sperm in the labs and running it through the computers. We had to let them in on the secret.

A second problem was that my genetic profile was on record at the university, this would be a much bigger problem to surmount. If and when my samples became publicly available it would not be long before the secret source became known. This would leave Bernadette and I hopelessly vulnerable to blackmail or worse, kidnapping. These and many other problems revolved in my head all through that endless Monday as I juggled the different conundrums in my tortured brain.

Tuesday dawned dull and cloudy. Autumn was slowly conceding the year to winter and a cold rain cut across the grounds. The biting wind lifted my skirt and made me uncomfortably damp as I scuttled from the hall to the labs after breakfast. I was glad to reach the warm embrace of our office were my friends had already settled in preparation for the usual meeting. I sat near the radiator in an effort to dry off as Veronica opened the minute book.

Our strategy meetings were not formal affairs but it helped if someone kept a rough copy of notes and comments. This task usually fell to Veronica because she had the legal background. I sat in silence as I shivered by the radiator and contributed little to the meeting. I was too pre-occupied with the bombshell I was about to drop. Eventually my silent preoccupation was noticed by Jacky and she stepped close to me solicitously.

 

"You all-right Bev?"

"Oh yes. You go on. I’ll have my say in a minute."

"Well we’ve not much else to say." Pointed Jenny. "We’re not making much progress." She added dejectedly.

I smiled as I wagged my head and shrugged. It was a habitual gesture that my friends knew well and it almost always preceded something of importance. They all responded at once and waited expectantly in silence.

"Come on Bev," demanded Jacky, "out with it. You’ll never make a poker player."

In this Jacky was correct. I would never be able to break my habitual twitch and conspiratorial posture when I was on to something. I gave another defeated shrug and prepared to drop the bombshell.

"I know where I can get some fertile human sperm."

There was a long pause as my four centaur friends sat dumbstruck. I fidgeted self-consciously for a few seconds before reasserting my claim.

"I’m not lying, honestly I can get fertile male sperm."

The four of them all started jabbering at once and there was complete pandemonium before I raised my hands and restored order.

"Before you ask any more questions, I’ll go and get some."

They stared at me as I left to get my sample from the liquid nitrogen. In the privacy of my own labs I left Bernadette’s samples and only took one of my own. In anticipation of this moment I had hidden Bernadette’s sperm in the deep freeze. My own sample I had enjoyed obtaining that very morning. As I returned to the office the deafening hubbub died an instantaneous death and I placed the defrosted phial on the desk. My friends stared at it in suspicious wonder and it was several seconds before they dared to pick it up.

"Don’t be scared of it. They won’t bite." I giggled at my own pun. "Well actually they will bite, given the right opportunity."

Jacky held it up to the light and turned to face me. Her questioning glance said it all.

"Yes, it’s mine, all mine." I admitted.

She pulled a long face as the others watched and listened.

"Would you care to explain how?"

"It’s a long story. You see; we never actually got to see the meteor."

A flash of dawning comprehension crossed Jenny’s face as the smile gradually lit up.

"Of course, -the yacht voyage! Down in the Antarctic."

I nodded affirmatively.

"Does anybody else know?"

"Margaret."

"And absolutely nobody else?" Persisted Jacky.

 

"To my certain knowledge. No."

I thought it best to protect Bernadette.

"That baby in America that uhmm -" Jacky searched her memory groping for the name.

"Debbie. The dancer in Las Vegas." I affirmed. "Yes. I’m the daddy but I won’t bore you with details just now. I’ll tell you all in good time. What I need now is your help and ideas about secrecy and anonymity."

My friends finally exploded into a frenzy of delighted chatter as questions and answers rattled around the room. Veronica eventually regained order as she entered our computer to list all the pros and cons of the situation. This action served to settle everybody down again and a more coherent question and answer session ensued. After an hour of patiently evaluating every factor we decided a strategy. We had decided on absolute secrecy to protect the source and this would entail disguising the sperm. All my friends agreed with what Margaret and I had long ago concluded. The information was not to go beyond our heads.

All research and development was to remain in our own ‘stand alone’ computers to ensure that nothing would get onto the Internet.

Jenny and Jacky would use their passwords and hacking skills to exorcise all my relevant genetic information from the universities computer banks and replace it with false data. If done slowly and incrementally, they would be able to alter and modify crucial bits to ensure that our identities remained anonymous whilst the information would remain apparently untouched. There were bound to be hiccups because the genetic techniques we had developed were now common coinage in bioengineering and medicine. It was where a lot of our royalties came from. Fortunately it was mostly to do with the techniques and the actual genetic information about the five of us was still officially confidential. There was still a risk however so we would have to proceed carefully.

We decided to take the rest of the week off to celebrate. It would give everybody time to think about any flaws or hiccups and I could regale them with stories of my experiences whilst travelling. They were all itching to hear about my baby in Las Vegas and how on earth I managed to avoid being detected by the government agencies.

That evening on the big bed I related all my strange experiences with Debbie. I described the clever trick she had played with the locking cock ring and the strange techniques she employed during our attachment. Eventually, my friends started twitching on the bed and giggling as they surreptitiously reached for their zappers. The remainder of the story was left until morning because the tale of the clitty lock had been the final straw.

The evening degenerated into a game of ‘hunt the zapper’ as we exploited the splendid new opportunities afforded by our new toys. By midnight we had exhausted our bodies and the responses were simply becoming automatic. Gradually we fell into deep sleeps as our various libidos capitulated and surrendered to somnolence.

The following morning we each arose at different times as our various metabolisms reflected their different needs. Slowly we appeared at the breakfast table in various states of exhaustion with bags under our eyes and trembling hands.

 

Gradually the conversation evolved from monosyllabilic grunts to coherent words as the effects of the previous night were ameliorated by food. Jacky glanced at me as her mind clicked away.

"I should have realised there was something afoot when you kept ordering contraceptive pills. I thought it was to help with Bernadette’s development into a fully functioning hermaphrodite. I little realised that you and she still needed to take them for proper contraception purposes."

I shrugged guiltily and stared at my cereal bowl. Jacky’s sharp mind raced on and another light dawned.

"Hold on. This means that Bernadette must be fertile as well. She was with you down there."

I nodded dumbly as Jenny took up the thread.

"Does Margaret know about Bernadette?"

"Yes. I needed a second opinion when I worked it out and Bernadette will need protection at Miss Lane’s. As surgeon at the school, Margaret can keep an eye on things. She secretly controls Bernadette’s zapper so no ‘accidents’ happen at the school."

"Huh. Well that’s no bad thing. Margaret’s in the best place there." Agreed Jenny.

"So it’s certain that only we have knowledge of the sperm." Reasserted Cynthia,

"Definitely." I replied. "If anybody else knew, there would have been some sort of response or publicity by now. Debbie hasn’t made the connection with her baby."

"Hmmm. That figures." Agreed Vee.

"What about your genetic hermaphrodism?" Asked Cye.

"Well I don’t think it’s affected my fertility but if Bernadette and I are the only source then it’s sure going to make a difference to mankind. Especially if my or Bernadette’s sperm is used to re-seed the planet as it where."

An amused giggle rippled round the table as my friends contemplated the demise of ‘macho-man’. They pictured a world coming to terms with the demise of the stereotyped image of an anthropoid overbearing male dominating his female counterpart. Then being replaced slowly by an altogether different man. A softly rounded slightly built man with feminine curves and feelings. A ‘man’ endowed of both cock and cunt; a ‘man’ as vulnerable to rape and pregnancy as ‘his’ mate.

I realised that my friend’s minds were running parallel to my own thoughts and my sex twitched urgently with excitement. I slipped my hands into the pocket of my jeans and discreetly turned my master zapper up a notch. This sent my unsuspecting friends into a slightly higher sexual gear. They would not appreciate it however. Each would think that their libidos had been excited by their thoughts. Inevitable however they would become slightly more aroused and start drifting towards the stairs.

I sat reading the morning paper as my friends sidled past and out of the morning room. Within minutes they had all ascended the stairs and found themselves on the big bed again as though by magic. I twitched my thighs and hugged myself secretly as I realised what unknown control I had over my friends.

 

I followed them up the stairs and found them all fiddling with their zappers as they self-consciously realised that they had all found themselves horny. Eventually we found ourselves back on the big bed cuddling and fondling each other as we discussed the various aspects of the new developments. It was noon before we finally arose properly for the day.

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about preparations for our future strategy. Nobody had remembered to collect any of my sperm during our previous activities and my friends took a perverse delight in milking my exhausted body for further samples. I felt particularly vulnerable and used as they employed my own zapper to gently bring me to an orgasm and milk the sperm from the opening beneath the base of my cock. I simply lay gasping and panting as they victoriously collected the sample and galloped to the labs for tests. Only Dot remained beside me on the bed as I slowly recovered. She helped to dress me and by the time I’d reached the labs, my friends had divided the sample for their own individual purposes. I was left as something of a bystander as the plans got under way.

There were two avenues of attack.

One was to somehow alter the genetic profile of my sperm and the other was to hack into the computer network of the university to alter the information stored there. The second option could be started immediately whilst we experimented and tested different theories to see what genes could be most easily altered.

It was several months before we had completed our preliminary work. Jenny had hacked into the data banks and altered enough information without getting caught. The main reason being that genetic research had been dropped in favour of all universities concentrating on solving the sterility problem. Nobody had consulted the data files on my genetic coding and consequently the gradual alterations had gone un-noticed. Jenny had even managed to slip onto the Internet and alter records held at other e-mail addresses without detection. A carefully controlled ‘computer virus’ completed our task making the file alterations invisibly whilst other programmes were being viewed.

Our second avenue of attack was already well progressed and we hadn’t even begun to travel the first avenue.

The genetic research we conducted had been the introduction of bio-engineered viruses to alter certain factors of my sperm. Hair and eye colour had been the first two lines we had altered so that we could produce sperm with ‘blue or brown eyes’ or blond, brunette, black or red hair.

The final plan was to ensure that my genetic hermaphrodism remained. Careful studies and genetic manipulation ensured that my hermaphrodism became and remained a ‘dominant gene’. We also managed to alter the puberty trigger genes so that the hermaphrodism didn’t appear until puberty. All male boys would suddenly develop their permanent primary and secondary female characteristics at puberty and carry them for life. At puberty they would suddenly develop fully functioning female organs with a ready ability to conceive. At twelve or thirteen they would start to develop the slender waists and rounded hips with soft rounded breasts adorning the boyish chests.

No longer domineering and overbearing they would be slightly smaller and less strong than their sisters and unable to bully them.

Our final trick though was our best.

Jacky managed to achieve her final aim in making each boy-girl incapable of impregnating herself. They would only be able to impregnate consenting girls or other boy-girls. Furthermore the same genetic manipulation ensured that boy-girls could only ever have girls. Only full girls could conceive both girls and boy-girls. This ensured that no boy-girls could be come ‘inbred’ and that normal transgenic transfer would occur during conceptions. This ensured that sexes would still have to mix to ensure the survival of the species.

The final twist was that our activities would not become readily apparent for twelve years until the new generation of children reached puberty.

Many a night we chuckled at the huge joke we were going to play on mankind.

"Just imagine all those macho fathers buying guns and footballs for their step-sons only to discover their ‘sons’ suddenly wanting to buy frilly feminine clothes as the hormones kick in and their breasts begin to grow." Giggled Vee.

"Yes, but think of all the women who’ll be able to walk safely on the streets without fear of rape. We will all be of the same build and equally vulnerable to attack. It will make everybody in the world genuinely equal," added Jacky on a more serious political note.

"D’you think it will stop wars as the old macho-men die out like dinosaurs and the new femi-men take their place?" Queried Jenny.

"It might." I suggested. "But wars are usually started by greed and there are plenty of greedy women."

"On the other hand," countered Jacky, "many wars are started by religion and most of those religions are patriarchal." Just look at what this sterility problem has already done to these patriarchal religions."

We mused over this.

The turmoil that had ensued in the meteor’s aftermath had manifested itself in many ways, none more ironic than the destruction of men’s status in the world’s religions. We laughed at how our plans would tear away at the cant and hypocrisy so tilted against women in most monotheist religions.

After nearly a year’s work we deemed our researches complete. Tests were run on my mutated sperm. They appeared to be satisfactory and I anonymously delivered some doctored sperm to a large French university.

This establishment, like all researchers into the fertility project, had failed to clear even the first hurdle in manufacturing human sperm. They had no idea who the donor was but the enormity of the incident meant that they had to go public.

Other world agencies were informed of the sample and they finally concluded that they would have to use it in their activities. There was no other sperm available and the human race was not getting any younger. Apart from Debbie’s daughter, there had been no child born for nearly four years.

Several hundred volunteer students were made pregnant with the sperm and their progress carefully monitored. The whole world held its’ breathe as the pregnancies were monitored then finally the nine months expired and all but one of the pregnancies was successful. Despite the unusual circumstances of the origins of the sperm the authorities saw little to be gained by conducting extensive tests. All my children passed the tests and they were declared to be healthy boys and girls.

Only my four friends and I knew the real truth and we weren’t talking. The children were left to reach adulthood under the wings of their mothers, all of whom were unmarried students.

The world pondered and debated the source of the sperm but we had prepared well. There was no way it could be traced back genetically to Bernadette or me.

Our next tactic was to deliver another larger sample to an American university. Here again we achieved exactly the same results. Some several thousand young students were fertilised by laboratory techniques and they had the same level of success as their French counterparts. Again we succeeded in covering our tracks and managed to maintain our anonymity.

With a pattern now established we commenced spontaneous deliveries around the world to various universities and medical institutes. We made no rules about how the sperm was to be distributed and we made no announcements about the activities in the press. It would have been easy to try and enforce some altruistic criterion about the distribution of the sperm but it would have helped the authorities to focus their efforts at finding us. Our simple tactic of turning up out of the blue anywhere in the world kept the whole world guessing.

It was inevitable that the world authorities and intelligence agencies would try to find us and we had to become gradually more circumspect as they doggedly tried to locate us. We realised that, one day, a clever scientist would eventually make the connection between the still considerable similarities of my genetic code and the sperm samples. We could not be certain of having located all the sites where my genetic information might be stored. Somewhere, a ‘stand-alone’ computer might be holding a time bomb.

In any event, when the hermaphrodism bombshell burst after twelve to fourteen years, someone was certainly bound to make the connection.

Our biggest problem was that we had no way of knowing if, when or where a connection might be made. If we had been a little wiser and used a little more foresight we might have seen the trap coming.

It was really my fault and I should have foreseen it but I’m only human and mistakes will always be made.

I hadn’t thought enough about the baby that I had given Debbie. The subsequent publicity had severely damaged Debbie’s life. The inquisition she had suffered at the hands of the American authorities and the subsequent glare of publicity had forced her into the unwanted role of a ‘Madonna’. Her anger and fear had driven her into the hands of an obscure lesbian sect where her resentment about her pregnancy had become an obsession. In the hands of the sect her problems had been exaggerated and she had achieved an almost saintly status as sect members came to pay homage to her and the child. The poor girl achieved no peace and was subjected to the torture of ritualised worship each and every day. Furthermore, my daughter by Debbie was being treated like a second messiah. The main reason being that she had been conceived ‘naturally’ as opposed to ‘test tube’ conceptions.

Debbie’s peculiar sexual predilections had become, in some twisted way, a fundamental component of the sect’s worship. Bondage and erotic piercing had been combined into their ordinary lesbian activities as a matter of every-day worship.

 

Within all sects there are various types of people and there is no connection between intelligence and rationality. Whilst the bulk of the sect were, to a lesser or greater extent, social inadequates; there were amongst the masses, some individuals of considerable skill in talent. Amongst these brighter individuals there were some scientists and they more or less used the sect as a vehicle for their own ambitions.

They had gathered enough intelligence to realise that there was a clear link between the sperm appearing out of nowhere and the appearance of Debbie’s daughter. They concluded that they were of the same father and therefore Debbie must have been in contact with that father as and when she conceived.

By carefully backtracking all of Debbie’s activities during those critical days they had managed to establish a vague link with my group of friends, that is Margaret, Jane, Diana and others who travelled with me through America.

They had drugged Debbie to help her recall her relationships and she had helplessly declared all the relationships she had shared. The only missing link was that Debbie had always assumed that I was a lesbian with a large clitoris; she had never realised that I was a bilateral hermaphrodite. The other factor was that I had never actually penetrated her. It was these anomalies that had that had deflected the intelligence agencies.

Suffice to say that some clever minds in the sect had realised that there was some connection with Debbie’s baby and my group. The father, and therefore the origins of the sperm must be somewhere near my friends and me. If they could not get at the father, they could at least capture one of our group and blackmail their way to the source of the sperm.

Although their reasoning was slightly flawed it was to amount to the same result.

Those that controlled the sperm controlled the world; biological terrorism.

 

 

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© 2001 by Beverly Taff. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.