Message-ID: <21600asstr$944075400@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: otzchiim@aol.com (Otzchiim) Subject: {ASSM} [Otzchiim] NEW The Female of the Species (FMMMM+, sf) X-Original-Message-ID: <19991201110505.03394.00000377@ng-fn1.aol.com> Date: Wed, 1 Dec 1999 14:10:00 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, Vulpine Otzchiim@aol.com Perhaps I should apologize for not actually having the sex described in this story, but it did not seem appropriate. THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES I knew of Dr. Donald Franklin primarily as a colleague in the area of infertility treatment. I had met him at professional meetings perhaps a half-dozen times in my ten years of practice. After his sudden death from a massive myocardial infarction, I was asked to take over his list of patients as best I could, and also to evaluate and prepare for archiving the papers from his twenty- five year career in the field. I discovered that Dr. Franklin had not only kept up with the advances in genetic research which are inevitably of interest to anyone in our specialty, but that he had performed much such research on his own. Many years before he had maintained a fair- sized collection of animals and his work with them was not duplicated until long after, by those whose names are now associated with it. Why he had not published was not clear; I could only surmise at first that he simply regarded the actual preparation of the papers as drudgery. Further study suggested another explanation. One would expect that a physician, especially one specializing in such a delicate matter as helping infertile couples, would be kindly and sensitive if not outright saintly. Probably most are. But there was the case of the doctor in Virginia whose administration of artificial insemination often used his own sperm in place of the husband's. And Dr. Donald Franklin had done something which might have been much worse than that, as I shall show. Aside from the expected records of achieved pregnancies and births, Dr. Franklin had a special file of detailed long-term follow-ups on a dozen children in the Baltimore area, all twenty- odd years in the past. Most of these were straightforward cases of collecting and using the husband's semen but a few involved donations from medical students where the husband was sterile. He explained the follow-ups to the parents as a study of all his cases, to determine if the artificial insemination affected the health of children in any way. By no means all his cases were actually studied, of course. And most of the children represented by the files lived less than a year. All these children retained at birth the body-hair which ordinarily disappears a few months before, but all of them lost it soon afterward. Retention of this hair is of course not really an abnormal thing, however distressing it may be to new parents. Easily the thickest of these folders concerned a female child named Rita Riley. She had been an ordinary little girl, a bit wild but not remarkably so. She was very much of a tomboy but only a little more so than her mother had been, or so the mother felt. Everything was quite prosaic until about eight months after Rita's fifteenth birthday. On a Saturday morning in April, someone reported to the police hearing voices and noises from a house in the Riley's area which had been closed up since the last owner died three months before. The investigating patrolman found the back door forced open and slightly ajar. The downstairs was empty, and he followed the sound of voices to an upstairs bedroom. There he found Rita Riley with eight boys. The policeman told her parents that Rita was "pulling a train". They did not know the phrase, and soon wished that they had not asked for an explanation. For another year and a half, Rita's parents fought a war with her, with long cease-fires. For the spring and summer of that year and the next, she would disappear from their house and return hours later. Usually she would meet boys whom she knew and have violent sex with them. But sometimes she would pick men up on the street. These wild spells lasted only a day or so at a time, and then she would be normal and well-behaved again. September brought an end to that activity until the following spring. Her parents caved in and had birth-control pills prescribed for her. She was lucky enough to avoid venereal disease. In the second September, Rita went to college but still lived at home. In April of her freshman year, she vanished completely. She vanished as far as her parents were concerned, but Dr. Franklin found her again. Whether he called in an old favor or simply knew someone who could easily get the information, he found her within a month. She had been picked up thirty miles away in Washington on charges of soliciting for prostitution and was identified by her fingerprints. She was classed as a minor for the vice charges but she was over the age of consent, so she was given the benefit of the doubt about not informing her parents. Dr. Franklin contacted her and had extensive interviews with her. Whether he became a customer of hers to do so (or of his own will, for that matter) cannot be determined from the records. It is clear that when she had been arrested three times in two days for harassing passersby by offering her body, he brought her back to Baltimore, took her into his home, and kept her in a locked room there. He repeated this several times over the five years until his death, and experimented on her with various drugs to ease her through these mental and emotional aberrations. The only thing which seemed to have any significant effect was a plain strong sedative. His notes indicate that she used contraceptives regularly -- except during these aberrant periods, when she could not remember even to take a pill. Despite these lapses, she never became pregnant. Or rather, she did so repeatedly, but always had a prompt spontaneous abortion. I must admit to being amused at the passing thought that this was evidence for the truth of the old joke about hereditary sterility, but there is really no possible connection between the woman's evident inability to carry a child and her father's low sperm count. The psychological abnormalities seemed to have no proper connection to Dr. Franklin's work, past or present, and I wondered why he had not long before given over Rita Riley's care to an analyst. The press of business brought on by carrying Dr. Franklin's patients in addition to my own kept me from gathering the information given above until some months after the doctor's death. I had only recently finished skimming the file on Rita Riley when I received a telephone call from her. Her voice was hesitant, even timid, and asked in a whispered tone if I had been told about her by Dr. Franklin. I responded that he had never mentioned her to me, but that I had his notes on her and had read them. There was a pause, and then she said that I might at least know enough to be of some help and she wanted to see me soon -- because she felt an interlude coming on. I was unsure that I could help this woman in any substantial way, but I could not in good conscience refer her elsewhere without trying to be sure of where to send her. Dr. Franklin plainly knew something of the problem which he had not written down in anything which I had seen, and perhaps an interview and examination would provide the missing pieces. The interview revealed that while Miss Riley was still estranged from her parents, she had long ago given up the life of a prostitute. She was now employed as an office-worker and book- keeper for a temporary staffing agency. This, she said, provided her with the flexibility which she needed during the spring and early summer. I felt this to be a case of healthy adaptation to an unhealthy situation. My physical examination showed that Miss Riley had pubic hair which extended above her navel and down to her upper thighs. This is uncommon in a woman, though much less so in a man, of course. Of more interest was that the hair was light in color and straight, also soft to the touch. The external body was otherwise undistinguished. The usual oral tests and so forth showed nothing out of the ordinary. She seemed more graceful and supple than most women of her age, and I must admit thinking that this would have been to her advantage when she was working the streets. A gynecological examination (which is within my specialty) turned up no clear abnormalities, though I felt that something was a little off. I could not decide quite what it might be and wrote it off to the after-effects of some disease contracted during the period of prostitution. Miss Riley explained to me that the late arrival of spring this year had given her hope that her cycles of strong sexual desire were a thing of the past. But the unmistakable signs had begun to appear and she almost panicked when she called Dr. Franklin's answering service and learned of his death. She had a normal level of physical desire during the rest of the year, and a moderate sexual activity, but she had been unwilling to commit to a long-term relationship because of those periodic aberrations. Also, she had only been able to reach fulfillment at any time through masturbation. Rita had related to Dr. Franklin that the early periods of intense sexual activity had been ones of alternation between intercourse and masturbation. Dr. Franklin had noted that the later ones, in his locked room, had been marked by frequent manipulation whenever she returned to consciousness. It is of course true that nymphomania was linked to a lack of fulfillment. But this was not quite nymphomania, and I had a feeling that there was another factor to be weighed in here. Rita begged me to let her stay in a side room somewhere and be sedated through the episode that she was sure was coming up. I was sure that this was the wrong answer in the long run, but I was also sure that she would leave, never to return, if I suggested a mental institution to her. And of course she was completely normal now. My own curiosity tipped the balance. I wanted to observe this physical and emotional shift for myself. My offices have two examination rooms; I normally alternate their use, and almost never have both occupied. It was only a matter of moments, especially with Miss Riley's help, to put a stronger lock on one of them. Miss Riley moved in with a cot on Friday morning. The change began late Friday afternoon, and from her experience it should be over by noon on Monday, perhaps earlier. We were fortunate in this timing, both in that she would miss only two days of work and in that there would be a minimum of interference with my own practice. I left Miss Riley meals and pills at intervals over that weekend, and encountered a problem only once. This was the occasion when I entered the room while she was fully awake. She threw back her sheet and implored me to make love to her on the floor. If there had been a more comfortable place, I probably would have. A strong musky smell came from her, more discernible and erotic from a few feet away than I had ever known it to be from the distance usual for OB-GYN work. This was stronger than the usual menstrual or unwashed odors, both of which I had encountered many times. I retreated hastily. She fumbled at the door for a moment, but gave up. The pills had left enough residue to make her weak and loggy. The advent of Miss Riley had jogged me into examining more closely the other files in Dr. Franklin's special section. I discovered one folder from a year or so before the impregnations which were the subjects of the other files, and buried beneath them in the cartons which I had been shipped. I spent that Saturday and Sunday reading this new folder and weighing its implications. This answered many questions I had, but it raised a host of others. Dr. Donald Franklin had made a number of lucky guesses and gone much further, in terms of numbers, than the Human Genome Project had in identifying the locations of individual human characteristics. Also of the characteristics of felis concolor, the cougar or puma. And he had found a way to blend the two selectively. This animal, he said, had been used over others because it had a body-weight roughly comparable to the human. The reason that Rita Riley underwent these abrupt changes is that she was, in some measure, a female cat going into heat! She had returned to normal on Monday morning, but I asked her to stay until my patients had left for the afternoon. I explained to her then that the reason why she had never had a successful pregnancy, would probably never have children, was that she was a forced hybrid and almost certainly sterile. I told her all that I had learned. Rita sat and thought for a very long time, and then she asked me if this was also the reason that she had never felt sexually satisfied with a man. I told her that this was possible, and that there might have been a genetic reason for the gynecological variation which I had suspected. She swallowed hard and asked me then if I were quite sure that there were no others like her left alive. I began to answer yes, I was certain, but then I recalled that I had only found the most important file two days before. I could only swear that there was no other large file. At my home we looked through Dr. Franklin's special files together. There were fourteen folders in all: Rita's, that on the gene identifications and procedures for mixing genes, eleven on children who died in infancy, and one on a boy named Alexander Morris. This boy's mother died of cancer when he was eleven; his father followed not long after in an auto accident where his drinking from grief was involved. Alexander was sent to live with an aunt in Omaha, and Dr. Franklin's information was very spotty from that point on. It ended about six years before, when the boy left home. The aunt had no knowledge of his whereabouts. There were no reports of any physical or emotional irregularities or of difficulties with the police. Dr. Franklin had reached a dead end here. I felt that I had also, but I brooded on it. Three days later I wrote the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta. I told them that I had taken over the records of Dr. Donald Franklin, that there was reason to contact Alexander Morris about a possibly life-threatening genetic disease, and that he could not be reached at his last known address. Almost the truth, as you can see. They took all the information I had on him, footprints, fingerprints, and all. The answer came back that Morris had been inducted into the Army at the age of eighteen, not long after leaving his aunt. He had been discharged across the country four years later, but he was now back in his birthplace and working as a martial arts instructor. I had not thought to look in the telephone directory. I called Alexander Morris and convinced him with some difficulty to come to my office. On the evening of April 25th, which was a Tuesday, I told him about Dr. Franklin's experiments, and that he was one of them. I told him about all of his parentage. He took it calmly; he was, I found, an almost unnaturally calm person, though never totally serious about anything. I have come to think that this philosophy was necessary for his sanity, as well as being absorbed from his training in martial arts. His reaction to the news was slower than Rita's, though he had hee same flowing poise. I did not tell him about Rita. The physical examination showed a pattern of hair unusually extensive even for a male. The only clear abnormality, however, was the hair on his penis. Unlike the rest of his hair, this was stiff and wiry. He confessed that the women he had been with had all complained about that and his only sexual experience in some years was through his hand. When Alexander Morris left my office, he left me with a decision to make. Now that I knew for certain that two of Dr. Franklin's induced hybrids had lived to adulthood, should I tell them of each other's existence? My own perspective as a fertility specialist may have colored my feeling here, but could I in good conscience do otherwise? They were almost certainly incapable of having children, and indeed they would probably not even be attracted to each other -- as any man and woman picked at random would not be -- but I owed these two ultimate orphans some chance to find happiness together. I telephoned Rita Riley that night and told her that I had found Alexander Morris. I told her that I knew where he lived and I asked if she would be interested in meeting him, assuming that he was willing. I asked if she wanted him even to know that there was another surviving experiment. Rita said that she would be eager for both, and wanted to know when this meeting would be. I replied that she and Mr. Morris would perhaps need some time to be prepared for the encounter, and therefore I would suggest early Saturday afternoon, at my home. Rita paused and said that she thought she could hold out that long. I thought that her phrasing was intended to be humorous. I immediately called Alexander Morris, and told him that I now had permission to tell him that there was another surviving experiment. I told him about Rita Riley, and asked if he would want to meet her on Saturday. He quickly agreed, but he asked if the three of us could meet at his apartment instead. There seemed no reason not to go along with this. The night ended with another call to Rita, to confirm the day and time and note the change of location. She seemed even happier about that. Since my home, Rita's apartment, and Mr. Morris's were almost in a straight line across the city, I picked up Rita at ten minutes to one and arrived at the meeting place at one in the afternoon. They seemed awkward and uncertain toward each other, which I suppose was inevitable. Rita fidgeted in her chair, as she had on the way over, and asked: "Dr. Rubin, both Alex and I had in a way three parents each. But I have wondered for the last few days, is the total five or six?" "I have also wondered about that," said Mr. Morris. "Did the same cougar provide the genetic material for both of us?" "Why, no," I replied. "Dr. Franklin had twelve cougars, and I recall that the only one who was used twice was the first one used. That child was a stillbirth, so the total would be six parents, so to speak. But I don't see how that would matter." But they had stopped listening to me. After my first two words they had begun looking at each other very intently. Rita said softly, "I think I'll stay a while." She opened her legs a bit, where before she had kept them close together. The musky smell that I had noted three weeks before was back. She was plainly into the second day of her estrus. The effect on Alexander was very strong and immediate. When he stood up, I saw that he had an erection, and saw also that the stiff hairs on his penis poked through the cloth. He took Rita's hand and mumbled something about apologizing for leaving me alone as they went into his bedroom. Not long after I heard Rita's repeated shriek of satisfaction. Alexander told me fifteen minutes later that he was going to drive Rita home later and that there was no reason for me to stay now. I agreed. That "later" was Sunday afternoon, I learned, when Rita had reverted to her more usual pattern. They were married as soon as the law allowed. All of Dr. Franklin's relevant papers have been passed on to the Human Genome Project at Johns Hopkins, with my own notes. I did not include the information that Dr. Franklin's chief experiments had met, or even their correct names. I felt that no purpose could be served by invading the privacy of these two innocent people. That is how I felt at the time. It has been a year since the two were introduced, and I have had second thoughts brought on by a new problem, or rather a potential problem. I have discovered that I was wrong about the sterility resulting from forced hybridization. Rita had triplets last night, two boys and a girl. One of them hasn't opened his eyes yet. -- If you enjoyed this work, take a moment to email the author. Your comments are their only payment. 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