I trust my readers enough not to bore you with a standard disclaimer, so I would like to share a short anecdote here instead.
Of all the Literotica categories, "Erotic Horror" gives me the most trouble. The reason is quite simple: women are scary enough as they are. Give them fangs, or hypnotic powers, make them incorporeal, or strip them naked - they remain what they are are - women. You can't plan against a woman, you can't defend against a woman, and you can't resist if one decides to keep you.
Every story featuring women is already a horror. But when something as scary is established as a baseline, what else is there to write? "Large muscular woman", "many women", "a man found himself turned into a woman"? All has been tried and written, by authors more skilled than I am.
Seeking for the ultimate horror, I have finally found something. What if...
Please stop reading right now if you are faint of heart.
What if...
Remember! This is just a sick fantasy. It will never happen to you!
But... What if... women desired you sexually?
Irresistible Doctor Frank Stein
Or; The modern-day Eros
In his place of employment, he was a ghost.
Just like any other day he arrived at the office, shook hands with his friend Robert Walton from the logistics, left the elevator on the floor labeled "Compliance" and headed towards the cubicle with a label that stated "Subject Matter Expert". On his path he politely nodded at Jinny - an open lesbian, fruitlessly flirting by the water cooler with Clara - whose heart must have been occupied by somebody else.
At 8:55 sharp he sat down in his office chair, got his notebook, checked his pen and paper supplies, logged in, and put his noise-canceling headphones on. His job has begun.
Colleagues have often joked that it is easier to reach him by email, rather than coming over and trying to talk.
His job was ensuring accuracy and consistency in every single text - from patient filing to web ads - his company was going to publish, in five languages. When he runs out of texts to review, he switches to internal documentation, often causing outrage with his pedantry.
He never takes any lunch breaks, preferring to go home early.
Shortly before his day would end, a popup flashed on his screen. An urgent one-to-one with his direct manager Maria Krempe. An invitation he can't ignore.
"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Doctor Stein," greeted Maria.
Her subordinate took place across the old wooden office desk without saying a word.
"Before we begin, I would like to highlight that upon recruitment we had... some concerns against employing you." Maria waited a bit, but no response came. And so she continued: "A PhD in biochemistry from the University of Genoa, a holder of several active patents, a man with, well, controversial, but almost a dozens of papers on a wide variety of topics would certainly seem overqualified for the position we offered? And while we were... understanding and even sympathetic with the circumstances of your past... termination, the common consensus was that you would not stay with us for long and either try to switch into an R&D - or leave for a better option."
A middle-aged woman in a business suit reached for her "#1 Female Boss" mug but changed her mind at the last moment and grabbed a stress relief ball instead. In the silence that befell the office room, you could hear gel bubbling inside a ball, as she rolled a toy from palm to palm.
"And yet, you exceeded all our expectations. Your work is impeccable, you branch out into new domains with ease, and your refusal to attend any overtime activities is reasonable, considering how consistent you are with meeting every deadline... Your cross-team remarks, however rare and despite their form, have saved us months and millions, and even though they provoked some... tensions between branch leaders - none of that is your fault."
Maria paused and turned towards the window. She took a few deep slow breaths through the mouth before proceeding.
"In other words, Doctor Stein, your work is seen, valued, and appreciated."
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
Doctor Frank Stein remained silent. Such long praise on a meeting like this is destined to have some sort of "but."
"However..."
And there it was.
He already knew that an even longer tirade was coming. The one that will use words like "sociability," "engagement," and "team spirit." Soft skills and company values will be mentioned, anonymous complaints will be brought up, and maybe it will even result in a "strike two." All within the bounds he considered acceptable.
Maria wore a business suit with a white jersey underneath. A bit too low cleavage for breasts of her size was certainly no accident. Image of professionalism with a slight hint of feminine grace and beauty.
Maria was an interesting specimen. A perfect balance between ambition and adaptability, she made an impressive career by always doing what was needed, yet never sticking out too far.
Her body was the reflection of her willpower, an alluring testament to her discipline with curves in all the right places without a single extra kilogram.
And yet, her naturally massive breasts were the most captivating. Two massive orbs draped in, no doubt, an elegant undergarment were begging to be released, touched, and played with. Or was it a voice of his own desire?
He realized she stopped talking just as she crossed her arms, covering her breasts from his gaze. Right, eye contact, he forgot about it.
Maria's face appeared annoyed now.
"Let me guess," she said angrily, "you are still single?"
The silence was her response.
"Look... Frank. I know it's not my place, and certainly hope you will not take it the wrong way, but I'm certain that a lot of girls out there," - she vaguely waved either at the door to the office or to the outside - "would dig this... 'absent-minded genius' type of yours!"
She paused more out of habit before continuing: "It's not my thing - I'm just saying it out loud now, but I would understand those that do. But you gotta give something back! Buy fresh clothes, do your hair, attend a goddamn conversation!"
She paused again, their eyes locked.
"And change your fucking perfume, you reek of a dead horse!"
Product #241015 field testing status:
FAILURE
***
The storm was brewing.
The crowd was rushing, trying to finish their chores and get home before it hits.
A single tall figure marched at their own pace. Doctor Frank Stein's mind, driven by his great purpose, was elevated far above the common folk's concerns.
In one hand he held a bucket of a cheap Kartoffelsalat from a supermarket. Another one griped onto a long-awaited package from the post.
The wind was blowing against his high cheekbones, tossing his unkempt long hair around.
In the descending darkness, his eyes were lit with the primal fire.
***
He crashed into his "laboratory" - cheap apartments, refurnished in the abandoned attic - right as the first drops of rain started banging on the rooftop. Although he hadn't eaten in days, he barely felt any hunger.
His mind was starving for research, for experimentation. For results.
The air was damp, and he opened the windows, inviting cold wind.
Long ago he was curious to master the secrets of life. What a childish foolishness that was! What good is an eternal life, when there is no one intelligent to talk to? What good is artificial life, created by stitching the best parts together, when society has no good parts to offer?
Although it has been years since he was allowed to set foot in a "real" laboratory, his craftsmanship and ingenuity allowed him to put up a decent setup at home for the task at hand.
The vials were washed, the equipment cleaned, and he was ready to start anew.
Water. Oil. Ultrasound generator - for mixing the two substances.
He saw it everywhere - the decay plaguing the world, the corruption creeping into minds.
Tea leaves from Portugal - the only European country growing their own tea, on remote volcanic islands.
Society stagnated, development halted. The dullards were everywhere, wallowing proudly in their ignorance, and being repugnant in their complacency.
A portion of tobacco from the Ivory Coast. A slice of cinnamon from a supermarket. A saffron leaf he still had over from somewhere.
But worst of all was the field of natural science. A torch of human knowledge carried proudly from ancient times against forces of darkness might just as well be extinguished by now.
He carefully ground an emerald green Spanish fly shell into powdered dust before mixing it with a precursor.
No breaking research, no brave experimentation, the field of science has devolved into a chorus of feeble-minded bureaucrat yes-sayers eating scraps of the palm of the rich and obsessed with their pathetic consensus!
