It's Alive

by S. L. Carpenter

  “Is everyone alright? I’m a doctor…” she yelled at the wreck, but quickly realized she was too late. “Eeeuuuwww.”

  By the look of things, this wasn’t going to end well. The guardrail had split the drivers’ side in half.

  Cars were pulling up to the wreck and their headlights illuminated the crash. Walking around to the passenger side, she could see that the door was open and the guardrail had cut right through both men. Different internal organs dangled and were displayed on the metal like snacks on a buffet table.

  She stared at the car and her first thought was shish-ka-bob. Both men had been pretty much skewered by that damn rail.

  She heard the distant sounds of sirens and sighed. Help was on the way, but there was no helping these poor souls. Dead on arrival, and she would have to put all this on a couple of gurneys and make it presentable for their families to see them. Maybe Inga would take care of it without swapping their internal organs as a joke.

  Sure it was funny and whimsical, but mostly it was a nuisance. She had a habit of mixing and matching. She put three livers into one guy because he died from alcohol poisoning. Another got an extra heart in his lower abdomen because she said he felt emotions with his dick.

  Saddened, Mary lowered her head. She was surrounded by death. Everywhere she looked, people were either in pieces, ripped opened like some kind of potato, or lying peaceful and still, never to wake again. Her life, her job, everything was always death and gore. Perhaps that was why she was so fixated on making something alive from the dead. Preserving a life instead of simply cataloging its passing.

  “Well there’s something you don’t see every day.” A male voice made Mary turn around.

  There stood a six-foot-four inch, drop dead handsome EMT. Mary stared for a moment before coming back to reality, not realizing a small amount of drool was gathering in the corner of her mouth. “I see this all the time”.

  “Not sure if I should bring a stretcher or a garbage can. This is a mess.” He raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mary. “I’m Steve. I was on my way to work and got hung up in the traffic.”

  Oh, I’ll bet you are hung all right, she thought to herself.

  The two of them traded stories as they waited for the ambulance to arrive. It turned into a playful game of “top that”.

  “Well you think that’s gross, we had to separate a ménage-a-trois group that reenacted the Human Centipede theme by actually sewing their privates together. The guy in the middle had it worst because he was inside the woman’s ass in front and had a rather obese, hairy guy in his ass. I guess love knows no bounds. But it also didn’t realize the plumbing issues.”

  As she rolled her eyes and laughed, Mary found herself actually seeing Steve as the type of guy she could be with as more than a fuck buddy. Smart, not queasy or freaked out by blood and guts, funny, easy on the eyes, and most importantly, he was real.

  She reached over and poked His chest.

  “What was that for?” He raised his eyebrows.

  With a wicked smile Mary replied, “Just checking.”

  Maybe instead of focusing on building a man, she could find one and train him to be perfect for her. Seriously, she would have to be in charge. Spoil her a little, do what she asked. Sex four nights a week, the other three were for watching taped shows and having some “Mary” time.

  Too bad he wasn’t on her slab in the morgue, she would use him for all kinds of experiments.

  The sirens echoed around the wreck. She reached into her trunk for her kit and realized he was behind her taking a serious look at her ass. She knew he was looking because he said, “Dayum, nice ass.”

  Steve definitely had promise because he appreciated the better things, like her ass. But, he also made the mistake of wanting a better look and stepped back—right into the path of the emergency vehicle speeding by.

  Fate was so messing with Mary’s life. She turned around, saw Steve smile at her, and then there was an explosive spray of blood and a whoosh when the ambulance hit him.

  What was left flew about twenty five feet and landed between two firemen who held up their arms, signaling “goal”.

  “Well fuck me sideways,” thought Mary, stunned beyond belief. Another potential guy gets killed by the pussy of death. “Wait a second…Maybe…”

  * * *

  Inga stood next to Mary and peeked under the sheet. “Shame.” She nodded. “That is one fine ass hunk of man-meat. Jesus, look at the size of his…I would think about switching back for a ride on that.”

  Mary’s mind whirled and she knew there was a totally inappropriate smile on her face. For her, this was a real find in a couple ways. He was dead, which meant she didn’t have to kill the guy just to bring him back so she could fuck him to death. Secondly, he was big, strong, muscular and smart. She didn’t have to do anything. Just bring him back to life and train him to be her sexual slave. Piece of cake.

  The downside was that he was broken up a bit. Some leg bones were shattered and protruding from the rips in his flesh, and his blood had stopped circulating with his death, but Inga would be able to put things back in place.

  “Inga, how would you like to try something that people would see as creative?”

  She peeked up over the sheet at Mary. “The last time we did something creative we had problems disposing of the body.” Inga paused. “That guy deserved it though. Getting me drunk then getting mad when I told him I was a lesbian. I don’t take well to a guy hitting me. Or forcing me to suck his stinky little cock.”

  “Well still, you kind of owe me.”

  The night in question had ended badly when Inga ripped the penis and balls off this jerk in a move she learned from a lover who was a Chinese martial arts expert. The woman taught Inga how to dig her nails into the flesh behind the balls between a man’s legs and rip forward. It was quite bloody and would have been bad enough by itself, but Inga added a unique touch by sticking his cock and balls down his throat as well.

  Mary was her first call and of course had helped her deal with the situation. Her chemical knowledge of acid and solvents helped decompose everything but the bones and those are scattered across a small stretch of road in New Jersey.

  Chasing her memories away, Mary put a hand on Inga’s shoulder. “Well, we won’t have to dispose of anything. It’s actually something groundbreaking. I want to bring that hunk of man-meat back to life. I want to make my own personal sex slave.”

  The lighting in the lab flickered as if crackling around Mary in a moment of epiphany.

  Inga blinked, then grinned. “A Franken-Cock.”

  Chapter Six

  Over the next few days Inga did her magic and repaired or replaced the internal organs that had been damaged by the wreck. Working in the morgue helped her find new pieces for the old or broken ones. She felt like a mechanic fixing an old Chevy and turning it into a Ferrari.

  “Well Mary, I think that’s it. Everything should be fine. Keeping the blood flowing through him preserved most of the organs but his spleen and some lower intestines were like scrambled eggs. I had to remove a part of his colon too.” Inga paused and grinned at Mary.

  “Okay, okay, go ahead and say it.”

  “He has a semi-colon.”

  “I hate that joke.” Mary was actually smiling. It had been some time since she had anything to be this happy about.

  They needed to be cautious and focused, since at a time like this, science and medicine might well be changed forever. It was a tense moment and deserved respect, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t relieve the tension with a quick chuckle.

  “Cannonball!” With a loud splash Inga pushed Steve’s repaired body into the tank.

  “Inga? Dammit be careful.”

  “Why? It’s not like he’s going to complain.”

  Since he was so tall he had settled into the fiberglass tub in a fetal position. They had used the most up-to-date liquid ingredients—water, salt, some Old
Spice aftershave, a couple bars of soap, some aloe, a snorkel, and some noodles.

  “What’s with the noodles?”

  Inga patted the bag on the counter. “Because if the water boils but the experiment fails, we can still have soup. I’m hungry. And we’re almost ready.”

  “What do you mean almost?”

  “All this talking about colons has made me need to cleanse mine. One too many sushi for breakfast. I’m scared I’ll leave a trail. Damn why now. Shit happens.”

  Mary sat for what seemed like an eternity waiting for Inga. After two whole minutes she still wasn’t back.

  “Fuck it.”

  She walked to the wall switches and hooked up the six car batteries to the cords fastened to the base of Steve’s tub. They, and the defibrillator, would blast just the right amount of energy through him, restarting his heart. They would all power the small generator that would send the jolts of electricity through the water Steve was submerged in. It was like a vente latte, double shots of espresso, with French vanilla and whipped cream topped with a caramel swirl.

  The electricity made Steve glow and in theory it should fuse his body together. It was a low dose and should be just enough to not destroy anything but enhance and enlighten him within his watery bath. His fetal curl shuddered and suddenly he began to jerk in the water as the electricity coursed around him.

  He was coming to life.

  Like Wolverine bursting from the water, all wet and muscular, Mary’s man would too. Only hers would be a creation for science. And also for need because she really wanted a personal fuck-toy that didn’t have batteries or strings attached.

  As she shut down the current, she stared at the water, waiting for a sign. Some signal that showed life in her male specimen. After a few seconds she saw something on the screen indicating movement in the tank. Looking closer she saw the legs twitch and there was a rumble in the water. Bubbles rose from his ass.

  Of all the things that could have happened, her creation had gas.

  She sighed and realized that it wasn’t as easy as they made it look in the movies. She thought she was building Steve, her male equal. But things don’t always work as planned. Her experiments with a living penis had ended up badly because they kept imploding when they had an orgasm and now she’d gone and made a fart machine masquerading as a man.

  In disgust at her failure Mary swung away from the tank and knocked over Inga’s bag of pistachios. They scattered all over the floor and as she stared at the mess, tears filled her eyes. Nothing worked out for her.

  As she stood there the lights flickered in agreement and went out.

  “Fuck. Now what?”

  The emergency lights kicked on, illuminating the room in a red glow. Mary stepped back and her shoe slipped on one of the pistachios. As she began to fall, she grabbed whatever she could to keep from landing on the hard tile floor. Without realizing it, she had pulled a cord loose from the center island and slammed downward, smacking her head on the edge of the island and knocking herself unconscious.

  She thus had no idea the cord she grabbed and ruptured was causing a chain reaction.

  The loose part of the cord caught around a chair and toppled it into a coat stand that tumbled downward and engaged a switch that lowered a power supply above the water tank. Inch by inch it lowered into the water and neared Mary’s creation.

  The entire unit disappeared into the water, resting next to Steve’s cock.

  With a snap, a hum and a crackle the lights came to life, signaling the power kicking back on, and there was a massive fizzing sound as an intense surge of power jolted the water in the tub. Electricity arcs shot around the lab from metal piece to metal piece and a bright white glow radiated from the experimental tank containing Mary’s man.

  There was a pause—followed by a loud explosion and water shooting high from the tank, raining over the room. It was like a massive climax originating from the area of the displaced power supply…and Steve’s cock.

  It must have been a direct link to his higher mental functions. It is, after all, common knowledge that a man’s brain isn’t always located in his head...

  A loud thud echoed around the room and Mary’s eyes widened in disbelief as the cold droplets brought her out of her unconscious state.

  A wet hand was rising from the fiberglass tank. It waved and flailed frantically in the air, then the fingers scrabbled to hold the side of the tub. As the water dripped to the floor, Mary found her voice.

  “Oh my fucking God…it worked. It’s alive!”

  * * *

  He climbed out of the water, the perfect specimen of alpha male. Coughing up liquid from his lungs and stomach, his muscles flexed and tightened. He was big, hard and sexy as fuck.

  Mary blinked a few times to clear her vision and gasped when she saw him stand erect. He was indeed fully erect. Holy shit…he was huge.

  She swallowed as Steve’s glare found her. He appeared to be everything she had dreamed of creating. He grabbed his cock and tugged it a few times then smacked his lips and scratched his balls. He held on to the side of the tub and stepped over it toward Mary. Slipping on the wet floor, he caught his balance then slowly knelt down and crawled to her as she lay among the debris and water splashes.

  Like a dog he sniffed her hair and his nose brushed against her skin, sending a shiver through Mary directly to her pussy. There was a small electric discharge from his wet skin touching her and the tiny crackle only excited her more.

  He reached towards her face and softly stroked her cheek. She guessed that everything was new to him. His eyes were focused on her with such curiosity and attention that she was overwhelmed. With a body like his, a look in his eyes like that, and a cock always hard, she was done for.

  She had made exactly what she wanted. Here was a man that didn’t talk and just wanted to take her and fuck her to oblivion. She needed to take him home, like now.

  Inga stepped into the smoky room and coughed. “Sonovabitch! The lights go off, the stall I was in was out of toilet paper and I had to wipe with the rough hand towels. I tried to stand on the counter and have the hand dryer blow me dry but there was no power. My ass will never be the…”

  Her voice trailed off as she took in the morgue in a shambles, and the water puddles scattered around. Holding onto the tables she made her way toward the back. “Dammit Mary, you couldn’t wait. You just had to do it.”

  Mary turned her head and tried to stand up. She was unstable, her eyes were glazed and yet she was smiling. “Inga, we did it…” She fell back down and fainted.

  Steve slowly rose to his feet. He still had an erection that was hard as steel and as big as that Pringles can. The water still dripped from his hair as it dangled over his eyes. A smile widened his mouth as he stared at Inga standing in the dim light.

  Her jaw dropped “Well fuck me, it worked. She actually created a Franken-Cock!”

  * * *

  Everything was finally going right. Mary had brought a dead man to life. It may have been accidental but it worked.

  Steve was perfect. Except for having an erection all the time. But that was a sort of good/bad problem. He also had high levels of electric current running through him so he shocked things a lot and made Mary jump when he touched her. But she figured that would go away over time, unlike her herpes.

  Mary and Inga cleaned up the lab area and decided to let Steve go with Mary for research purposes. She basically wanted to see how long he could maintain his erection. They’d agreed that dressing him as a staff member would be the best course of action. The anonymous scrubs would work just fine.

  Inga had to go get a patch for her eye because when they were dressing Steve Inga pulled the pants up and his cock poked her in the eye. She didn’t mind so much but said, “This reaffirms why I’m a lesbian.”

  The disguise worked, and Mary walked with Steve through the parking lot to her car. It was a new beginning for everyone involved. Steve had been r
eborn after death and Mary had found her perfect mate. She almost felt like a proud parent and was looking forward to teaching her new creation everything.

  As they drove away, Inga smiled from the steps of the lab and and waved goodbye.

  The End

  Author’s Note: Really? You thought I was going to end it like that? This is ME remember…

  Sometimes getting all you wish for has its downside.

  Mary and Steve were like rabbits for the better part of six months. Steve was a sex machine on overdrive and fucked Mary constantly. He ate, slept and fucked her every day. She ended up with a misaligned hip and bowlegs from the constant abuse to her pelvic girdle.

  They made some home porno movies, but after re-watching them Mary didn’t like how she looked. She was convinced her ass looked fat.

  She ended up renting Steve out to women. She was so worn out from sex she couldn’t take it anymore. Her pussy had calluses and her jaw was out of whack. She needed a break and after a few Facebook friends talked to her about their own sexual needs, she realized it would be easier to let Steve do his thing but at least get paid for it.

  Franken-Cock Industries was born.

  Only bad thing is, like all men he lost a little zest over time and she had to devise a way to recharge him. So she developed a USB charger that connects the head of his cock to any household outlet. There’s also a version that works with the cigarette lighter of any car and charges his gift up for those make-out sessions in the back seat.

  He is now the base model for the battery-operated-boyfriend.

  Inga decided she needed a change. She started writing lesbian porn, based on her adventures, and went on to become a bestseller. Her book, 69 Ways To Eat-Out Your Lover, hit the top spot and stayed there for three months.

  It was optioned by a top Hollywood studio for an absurd amount of money after a record-breaking bidding war, and right after that Inga invested in her own private island. She built a hideaway for herself and Mary, where they held occasional parties for invited guests only.