"This will not be necessary, ," speaks a voice from behind.
You turn around, crouch dodging a possible shot, draw your pistol, flip off the safety and aim it: all in a fraction of a second. The visitors seem unarmed and you decide to hold fire. "Who the hell are you," you bark.
An older intelligent-looking man backs off and shows his empty hands to you. "Relax, . We will not harm you." He nods at the defeated man on the floor. "This was meant to be a precaution. The idiot overacted again. Please, don't be angry with him."
"I don't give a damn what you meant! What the hell are you? Who the hell am I? Where the hell am I? And why can't I remember a damn thing? Answer or I'll blow your head off!"
"Yes, of course. I am Doctor Jones. Let's say, I had a pleasure of working with you. This," doctor points at a good-looking Hispanic woman in her thirties, "is Signora Isabella Rodriguez. She is your, um, hostess."
Doctor pauses, but you encourage him, "Keep talking!"
"Um, you see, , I specialize in, um, genetic research. I have discovered that altercation of certain genes has nearly immediate effect. In other words, you don't need to grow a new specimen from scratch, but can change existing ones."
"Talk," you utter again.
"I found the perfect libido combination! It's very hard to achieve. Many specimens, unfortunately, die in the process and others develop weird side effects by greatly enhancing other skills from their former life. In your case, the side effect seems to be pretty strong. You were a soldier, you know."
"So, you messed with my genes and fucked up my memory?" You take a step forward aiming the pistol at the doctor's head.
"Please, ! It was for your own good! If I didn't buy you out, you'd die in POW camp! And now look at you: you are every woman's dream."
"What?"
"Yes, I altered your genes. I made you into the best male in sex in the whole World! Now, if you still hate me for that, you can shoot me!"
"Hmm, I guess I can't complain about that," you say. "What are you planning to do with me?"
"Signora Rodriguez was kind enough to sponsor my research. I promised to give her my first successful model. She will take you back to Colombia and take good care of you."
The woman smiles hungrily. "Si, you did good, doctor! This one is much better. I think I love him!"
'She's not too bad herself,' you think, while looking over her voluptuous figure clad in tight jeans and light white blouse. A few buttons on the top were left undone showing plenty of tanned cleavage. You think over the situation: "So, I'm a stud genetically engineered to make chicks scream. And I'm supposed to be a pet to this rich Latina signora. Doesn't sound too bad, but maybe I should refuse and have some fun of my own?" |