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COPYRIGHT INFORMATION
Copyright © 2007, 2012 by Victor J. Banis
Published by Wildside Press LLC
www.wildsidebooks.com
DEDICATION
Special thanks to Lee Appel,
Who had the idea first
CHAPTER ONE
Poor Dick lasted exactly 48.3 seconds. In less than a minute, he had gone from a robust, feisty, a notably horny, tomcat to a shredded mass of black fur and guts and blood splattered across the walls of the cage. His Ee-Yow of surprise and terror had been mercifully brief. In its wake, the scent of fresh blood and suddenly released feces mingled with the chemical odors of the laboratory, creating a pungent perfume.
That did not mean that She Cat Number One, into whose cage he had so recently and hopefully been introduced, was actually through with her would-be paramour. She spent the next several minutes reducing the smelly pieces of fur and bone and entrails to smaller and still smaller pieces, muttering angrily under her breath the entire time, a steady stream of hiss, growl, hiss growl, hiss....
For their purposes, however, the two white-coated women watching from outside the cage considered the incident over. Doctor Melissa Hyde switched off her stopwatch and washed some errant droplets of red from her hand before she sat at the computer and typed a few brief notes into a file labeled “Alley Thing.”
“I think we can conclude that batch was way too potent,” she said with a sigh. “Poor guy. He hardly knew what hit him.”
“Personally, I would be tempted to go with it just as it is,” Janet Jackle said. “Think how many rapists and mashers we could be rid of in no time if we turned the women of the world on to this stuff.” She patted the wire of the cage. “Nice She Cat,” she crooned. “Good puss.” She Cat snarled over her shoulder and continued her efforts to remove every trace of her late would be Romeo.
“The whole point of the project, my dearest,” Melissa said, “Is to empower women, not to make monsters of them.”
“She Cat is certainly a monster, that’s for sure.” Janet chortled. From her cage, She Cat hissed in agreement. “Look, so what if we did make monsters of a few women? We would just be balancing the scales a little, if you ask me. God knows there are plenty of male monsters roaming around out there, aren’t there, too often using their brute strength to take advantage of women.”
“Yes, that is certainly true,” Melissa said, “And if we can make women physically stronger than men, and boost their aggressiveness at the same time, we can put a stop to that forever, and that is a goal devoutly to be desired. But my darling, the whole idea of Alley Thing is to liberate women from the prison of male physical dominance. We would do the women of the world no favors if we landed them in cages of a different sort. We do not want women emulating She Cat: ripping their would-be lovers to shreds and going to prison for it.”
Janet, who personally thought that there were plenty of men out there who deserved to be ripped to shreds—she could think of one or two she wouldn’t mind tearing into herself—shrugged.
“Well, we know we’re on the right track, anyway,” she said matter-of-factly, “It’s just a question of fine-tuning the formula. Do we feed She Cat before we go?” She slipped out of her white smock.
“I think she’s taken care of that for herself.” Melissa thought for a moment and made another brief note in her file and closed it. “That was the last of our male subjects, wasn’t it? We’ll need to find some more volunteers.”
“Fortunately for us, there’s never a shortage of fellas looking for a little action,” Janet said. “What number was this last one?”
“Number twelve.”
Janet wrote the number on a pair of labels and glued them to the vial and the syringe. “That’s the end of the B trials. We will have to start with the C series tomorrow.” She glanced at her partner and saw her look of dejection.
“Cheer up,” she said, dropping an affectionate arm about Melissa’s slumped shoulders. “We’ll get it. You will, anyway. I know you will. There’s no one brighter than you are. And just think of what we’re working toward. When we’re done, when we’ve made a success of Alley Thing, no man will ever again dare try to force himself upon a woman. It will change the course of history.”
“That certainly sounds wonderful,” Melissa said. She glanced at the big clock on the wall and grimaced. “But, you know, darling, we have been working for thirteen hours straight. I think tonight I will settle for a cold beer and a pastrami sandwich.”
“And a soak in a tub,” Janet said solicitously. “And a nice rub with some pretty smelling oil, to get you properly relaxed, and who knows what else might happen after that? What do you think, Missy?”
“I think I prefer not to be called Missy, if it’s all the same to you,” Melissa said, but she softened the remark with a smile.
“It’s just a pet name,” Janet said.
“Then give it to a pet.” Melissa motioned toward the cage. “Give it to She Cat. She can be Missy if you like.”
“First rule of the business, never give pet names to lab animals. It personalizes them,” Janet said. “Never a good thing to do.”
“And a good second rule is, be careful about giving them to girl friends,” Melissa said. “Particularly to girlfriends who don’t welcome them. My dad used to call me Missy. When I hear that name, it makes me feel like a little girl again, all helpless and insignificant.”
“Ah.” Janet nodded her head in understanding. “And still waiting for that approval from Daddy that never came, I’d bet.”
“You’re probably right,” Melissa said.
“In that case, Melissa it shall remain. Though I still think Missy is cute. And, to be honest, the thought of you helpless in my power is definitely a turn on.” She pulled her partner to her and kissed her warmly.
For a fraction of a second only, Melissa hesitated. This woman-on-woman thing was still new to her. Then, any reluctance vanishing, she happily and ardently returned the kiss.
The woman thing was new to her in the physical sense, at least. If she were to be completely honest with herself, however, she had entertained fantasies of women for years, all the while that she had played the role of a straight woman. Oddly, those fantasies had usually featured the centerfold types of beauties, airbrushed and silicone-filled and glossy, and not anyone even remotely like this thin, angular woman with the thick glasses and the unmanageable copper hair who more commonly smelled of formaldehyde and ethyl alcohol than she did of flowery perfume.
It was Janet, though, who had rescued her from an abusive relationship into which she had fallen, who had restored her dignity and her sense of self worth to her, and who had made her feel like a whole person again.
It wasn’t just gratitude, either, that made her tighten her embrace fleetingly. It was Janet she loved, loved not only for her body but for her mind as well, loved her courageous spirit and her good sound sense.
I am a lucky person, she thought to herself, to have someone so dear.
“I’ll
