Character Creation
Chapter Five – Feeblemind

      The law of unintended consequences is one harshly enforced in any role-playing game. Helping a lord wipe out some bandits only to learn the bandits were a resistance movement to his tyrannical regime; scoring a critical hit that deprives the party of a crucial informant; lobbing a fireball into a room full of goblins only to learn that their innocent slaves dwelled among them… all of these can and inevitably will happen at some point. Clever players, however, will strive to find some way to turn these misadventures into proper adventures…
      
      
      
      “We did it!” Alice Langley cried, hugging me on impulse. It was one of the few times she’d ever deigned to touch me in any fashion more intimate than a handshake, actually, but the triumph evidently broke through even my frosty employer’s barriers. It last only a moment before her brain caught up with her surge of jubilation.
      Still, neither of us could help smiling. The confirmed test of our drug osyluth had been two years in the making, the product of countless late nights in the lab and weekends crunching data and tweaking the chemistry. Tonight, we had watched in breathless anticipation as our analyzers confirmed osyluth had done what it was designed to – reach into developing stem cells and make sure they developed free from a crippling genetic defect. Tonight, the Alice Langley Laboratory had finally done it.
      Osyluth was no miracle drug, no malaria vaccine or the like. The disorder it prevented was in fact not a common malady – only a few million people worldwide were at risk for developing it – but it was nevertheless debilitating for those who contracted it. In its later stages, its symptoms were excruciating, and eventually fatal. Now, thanks to Dr. Alice Langley and Dr. Douglas Cross – that’s me – we had enough data to proceed to human testing, and from there, start saving lives.
      It was why I’d gotten into medicine – to help people. Part of our struggle had been the endless pleading for funding to keep our work privately owned, but to my mind, it was worth it. Since I was a young man one of my heroes had been Jonas Salk, and I too dreamed of giving osyluth as a gift to anyone who wanted it. 
      Alice had been much harder to convince, but I had managed to crack through her hard exterior and appeal to her humanity. Though she was still a young woman, relatively – she was barely thirty, more than ten years my junior – she was the senior partner of the outfit. The Langleys were a very wealthy family, and that had been the only way we’d gotten our project off the ground. She’d been courted by many of the big pharma corporations, but she’d chosen to stick with me. “I know genius when I see it,” she had said when she hired me.
      Of course, I eventually realized part of her motivation was to be in a position of total power of a company with no one over her, and the afore-mentioned genius willing to work for peanuts, as often happens to us true believers. Alice liked being in charge, and though she was my assistant in the lab, she never let me forget she was the boss.
      After sharing a bottle of celebratory champagne and letting me wax romantic about my ambitions for osyluth, she bid me a good evening and left me to sanitize the lab, which I did with an uncommon bounce in my step. I couldn’t wait to get home and pour over the data in greater detail! Only Alice had left the read-outs in her office. She hated it when I went in there without her permission, but I had a key for emergencies, and I couldn’t imagine she’d make a stink after our break-through.
      To be clear, I hadn’t meant to snoop. Only… she’d left her computer running, and the monitor on. With an email showing. 
      From a name I recognized all too well.
      Oliver Maxwell. CEO of Homunculus Pharmaceuticals. The devil himself – the sort of guy that so-called “pharma bro” in the news would worship as a hero. The kind of guy who’d charge his own grandmother a 1000% markup on life-saving medication if it drove up his stock price a hundredth of a point. What would he be corresponding with Alice about?
      So I read it, and of course, it was exactly what one might expect – what I should have seen coming a mile away. There it was in black and white, a months-long negotiation to sell him our company – her company, I suppose it was technically. The distinction had never mattered before – we’d been like-minded, or so I’d thought – but suddenly, it slammed home. Everything I’d done, all my hard work, had been to enrich one of the men I despised most. Maxwell and his cohort of fiends were going to own osyluth, and find one more way to make a buck off of the terminally ill.
      Alice had betrayed me. Betrayed my dream. In the morning, while I was analyzing data and drafting proposals to the FDA, she would be sitting here selling my brain child to Oliver Maxwell. I could make an impassioned plea, but really, I’d been doing that from day one, patting myself on the back for charming the serpent with my idealistic song, when in fact it was the serpent who’d hypnotized me.
      Dejected, I let the lab sit. What was the point? I changed out of my labcoat and made my way down to the subway station, finding a quiet nook in which to stew. My fellow riders were doing a good job of leaving me to it, right up until a little old man – must be some kind of orthodox priest or rabbi or something, from the way he was dressed – sat down right next to me. I grunted a hello, hoping my gruffness would clue him in that I wasn’t in the mood to chat up a stranger.
      It didn’t. “Greetings, traveler, and well met!”
      “Uh, yeah.”
      “If you’ll pardon an inquiry, may I ask – why so glum? I have a sense that you had a great victory tonight, but by the look of you, I’d say you’re recovering from a thwarting!”
      “That’s basically it – just had a major break-through at work. Made a drug that could help some people who really need it. Then found out my boss is going to sell it to the highest bidder so they can make it as expensive as possible for the people who need it to get it.”
      “Oho, a healer! Of course. I thought I saw an aura of great brilliance around you. A man who appreciates the gift of intelligence.”
      I smiled a little. “Thanks. Not sure how much good my ‘aura of brilliance’ is doing me, but thanks.”
      “Well, perhaps a man who appreciates the value and purpose of intelligence – and one who might be in need of a miracle himself – might appreciate this?” He reached inside his robe and pulled out, of all things, a piece of old parchment paper, neatly rolled up. Then he handed it to me.
      “Um, what’s this?”
      “Oh, just read it to your boss, and I assure you, it will change her mind. Hahaha!”
      I unfurled it; it was some kind of writing in a language I didn’t recognize, much less know how to read. Still, he seemed proud of his gift, and even if he was just a senile old man on the subway, I didn’t want to embarrass him. “Thanks. I’ll… do that.”
      The train came to a stop, and he stood up. “I hope you do, good sir cleric!” He got off the train, and I went back to my stewing.
      
      
      
      The next morning, I realized two things. The first thing was that I still had no way to persuade Alice to do the right thing, and that by now, I’d given her enough that she could proceed without me if she had to. Dragging my feet would just lead to being fired – my only bargaining chip was worthless.
      The second thing was that I found I could read the scroll. It still looked like gibberish, only somehow, I could sound out the gibberish. Something told me not to, just yet – to wait until the right moment. It didn’t make sense, but… somehow, I could tell there was power in these words. Maybe even the power to change Alice’s mind, like the old man had said.
      Alice arrived at the lab only moments after I did, looking around in distaste. “Good morning, Doug. You left the lab in sorry state last night.” Never mind that she didn’t even know how to sanitize the lab, and that I’d done so unfailingly day in and day out for more than two years now.
      “Sorry about that, Alice. I guess I just got excited last night. Here we are, on the eve of unveiling osyluth to the world, for everyone who might ever need it.” I was watching her closely; she schooled her features well, however. I suppose she’d been practicing it for a good long while now.
      “That we are. Speaking of, I suppose I should get moving on the next phase, shouldn’t I.” She smiled politely and excused herself to her office. No doubt to email Oliver Maxwell the good news.
      In desperation, I pulled out the scroll, and read the words. “Osh thar odalidor!” A shimmer of power struck her right in the head, and she stopped in her tracks.
      Uh oh. What had I just done.
      “Alice?” I said softly. She didn’t respond. “Alice, can you hear me?” Still nothing. I approached her and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. At my touch, she turned to look at me.
      “Buhhh?” she asked. Or said. I couldn’t tell. I wasn’t sure she could tell. Her eyes were glassy, vacant of comprehension. She looked at me like I was just another object in the room – in a room full of objects she didn’t really understand.
      “You’re OK, Alice. Aren’t you? Oh please be OK…”
      Her head leaned to one side, confused. “Ushpuh, huh. Pluh,” she said. She left her mouth hanging open at the end of the chain of nonsensical syllables. Oh shit.
      “Alice, why don’t you sit down,” I said. She didn’t move, just looked at me vacantly. Worried, I snapped my fingers in different directions around her face, and she looked at my hand each time, finally reaching to swat playfully at me. It reminded me of nothing so much as a kitten batting at a dangling bit of string.
      “Can you understand me? Blink if you understand me.” She blinked, only I got the decided impression that she just happened to be blinking. I tried again, and this time she didn’t. “OK, smile if you understand me. Raise your hand if you understand me. Oh shit, what did I do!”
      As panic set in for me, she lost interest in me and started walking around the lab, scratching at her chest and back with an annoyed expression. Alice picked up a beaker still half-full of hydrochloric acid, and sniffed at it curiously. She coughed in distaste, then made a face and threw it over her shoulder. It wasn’t aimed at me, but it came much much closer than I liked before shattering on the floor, sizzling on the tile floor.
      “Alice!” I shouted. She glanced in the direction of the noise, but only glanced, as she continued picking up containers and dropping them one by one while I rushed to stop her. Luckily none of the others held anything dangerous.
      “Don’t do that. Stop it!” I pleaded. She looked at me curiously, then picked up a volumetric flask half-full of a blue-green chemical and prepared to pour its contents into her mouth. I slapped it away just in time, and she looked at me angrily. My boss once more scratched at her chest angrily as she walked away from me, then simply plopped herself down on the floor in a rather un-lady-like fashion and started plucking at her bra through her shirt in agitation.
      Suddenly, the barrier I’d erected in my mind not to notice my boss as the attractice woman she was began to shudder somewhat. Not that seeing her reduced to this idiotic state was a turn-on – the opposite, really, as I valued intelligence in a romantic partner – but still, seeing the pretty brunette grasping at her pert breasts and spreading those long legs wide without a thought to the message these actions sent… well.
      I sat there pondering what to do as she pawed at herself for reasons I hadn’t yet figured out. First things first, I retrieved the scroll from where I had dropped it after using it only to find that it was now a completely blank piece of parchment, not a single word written there on either side. Oddly, I couldn’t even remember what it had said now – like the information simply left my brain once I’d read it.
      I went back to Alice to find she was rolling around on the ground, writhing in frustration as she clutched at her chest and back futilely. What on earth was she doing? She finally managed to grasp the divide in her blouse and tear the thing open, revealing her pale but unblemished torso, including a black bra that contrasted fantastically against the creamy, unblemished skin beneath it.
      That done, she grabbed the cups and tugged them down, whining at their refusal to budge far. Still, I suddenly found myself looking right at my boss’s bare breasts. I almost looked away out of a sense of propriety, but she didn’t seem the least bit bothered to have an audience for any of this.
      Finally, it dawned on me. “Is it… is it your bra? Is it uncomfortable?” She was acting like an animal; I remembered the time I’d tried to put a sweater on my old cat and how violently he had lashed out at me for it. Could that be it?
      Alice didn’t respond – unless you count “eeeyeeeeech!” as a response. I approached cautiously, and not knowing what else to do, I began looking for a clasp. It wasn’t in the front… Nervously, I pulled at her top. She didn’t cooperate in the least, but when it came off, she smiled somewhat, then resumed trying to wriggle out of her bra. If not for the shoulder-straps, she might have. Still, with her top out of the way, I was able to get at the clasp. She kept squirming, making it none too easy – and add to that how very out of practice I was at bra mechanics – but I soon was able to undo it, and slid the thing off of her.
      “Durrrrg,” she said. Topless. Dr. Alice Langley, sitting in front of me, topless and smiling.
      Wait, had that been my name? I pointed at myself. “Doug.” I said it slower, over-enunciating the consonants. “DOUG.”
      “Durrrg,” she said, smiling and scratching at where the underwire on her bra had been bothering her.
      I pointed to her. “Alice.”
      She just kept smiling and stood up, then resumed looking around. I followed her closely, making sure she didn’t get into anything dangerous and getting the fragile and expensive items away from her. She didn’t like me intervening, but she didn’t fight me on it too much.
      I needed to get her somewhere safe though, before I got careless for a moment and she ingested something dangerous or cut herself on some of the broken glass she’d already created. I took her hand and tugged her behind me towards her office, but she jerked her hand back when she saw I was taking her somewhere she hadn’t wanted to go. Same result when I tried a hand on the small of her back.
      Then an idea hit. I ran into her office and found the drawer where I wasn’t supposed to know she kept her junk food. There it was, a candy bar. I unwrapped it and carried it out into the lab.
      “Alice – look Alice. Yum yum, huh? Yummm.” I waved it in her direction. Whether from some latent memory or just from the smell, she seemed to recognize it – her eyes went wide and she immediately started walking toward me as I back-pedaled into the office again. Once we were in, I closed the door behind us and, in spite of myself, hoped she couldn’t figure out how to work a doorknob.
      My instinct to experiment soon kicked in as I tried to assess what had happened, and I deducted that I’d somehow managed to – in not-so-clinical terms – turn Dr. Alice Langley into a vegetable. She did still seem to enjoy her junk food, although I only gave her half the candy bar.
      My first experiment was one of name recognition. Was she, in fact, still Alice Langley, or did she no longer even recognize herself? I waited for her to finish swallowing – then for her to finish noisily licking her fingers clean – before I tried to get her attention.
      “Alice?” I said. She glanced over, but no more than. “Alice,” I tried again. “Alice – that’s your name. Alice Langley? Dr. Langley? Dr. Alice Langley?” She kept looking over, but I couldn’t get her to stay focused. Surely she could at least learn to respond to her name, couldn’t she? Even my next-door neighbor’s cat knew to respond to Bootsy.
      Was there something else she would respond to? I did remember meeting her parents, once, at a fund-raiser they’d thrown for our enterprise. “Allie?” I tried. They’d called her that, and I remembered how she’d bristled. 
      Presently, she looked over to me and smiled placidly, then walked over in my direction and leaned herself against me, her breasts squashed against my arm in a most distracting fashion. So at least she was still, on some level, herself.
      Her half-naked, guilelessly innocent self. Maybe next I  should test to see how she’d react, if I…
      No. No, that would be wrong. 
      Then she licked my cheek playfully and giggled.
      No.
      Then she sunk to her knees and thrust her nose into the vicinity of my crotch, nuzzling at it. She looked up at me with pleading eyes, still smiling, the expression somehow reminding me of nothing so much as a puppy with its tail wagging.
      “Allie, no,” I said, squirming back. The same way I would have to that puppy. She just followed me though, rubbing her face again at my groin and eyeing me hopefully. She gave a few suggestive licks to the front of my pants.
      Well, if she really wants it… I’d be lying if I said I’d never imagined her, my alluring, domineering, brilliant boss, on her knees, sucking my…
      “No?” I said again, but I couldn’t even make it sound forceful.
      Fine. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong. It was an experiment, after all, to see how she, um, responded to a, uh, male presence? Sure. Sure, that was it.
      I unfastened my belt and lowered my pants. I was already rock hard at the thought of her warm, wet mouth wrapping itself around me, her tongue gliding along my…
      Allie ignored it, following my pants down to the ground, immediately beginning to nibble and gnaw on one of my pockets.
      The one where I’d left the other half of the candy bar. Of course.
      Feeling foolish, I put my pants back on, and was halfway to giving Allie her prize when I remembered my lessons in training my last dog – that they need to earn it with behavior, not begging.
      Less than an hour, and already I was beginning to think of her as a pet, yet from her sulky expression as I withdrew my hand, it was the most logical way to approach things. For now.
      Allie scowled as I replaced her treasure in my pocket, and now that she saw how I’d gotten it in there, she reasoned how to get at it herself. “No, Allie,” I said, stepping back.
      She made some nonsensical but nonetheless displeased-sounding noises, and reached again more forcefully. By reflex, I slapped her hand. “I said NO, Allie! Bad girl.”
      Had I really just said that?
      She pulled back, stung, her eyes welling up with frustrated tears. I’d always been a push-over when faced with the waterworks, but still, I knew if I comforted her it would just teach her to keep misbehaving. After all, if Allie was functioning with an animal’s intelligence, she was a decidedly large animal, and could potentially be dangerous if she decided to be aggressive.
      I sighed. With that thought in mind, at least until I could find a way to reverse this, I had a responsibility to train her.
      After three hours of training exercises, I had learned two things. First, Allie was not an especially bright creature. At best, she was functioning like a not-too-bright dog. Clearly she was nothing compared to a human – a normal human that is. She’s still human, I reminded myself. She took copious prompting to handle even basic tasks. Getting her to sit meant grabbing her hips and more or less pushing her into her desk chair. “Heel” required taking her by the waist of her skirt and pulling her along behind me.
      The second thing I realized was that if I kept feeding her bits of candy from her stash every time I wanted to reward her, I was going to make her sick. She didn’t seem to care, but I didn’t doubt she’d puke on the floor if I kept it up. I was going to need something else to reward her with.
      So the next timeI got her to sit, I reached down and gave her cheek an affectionate stroke, then ran my fingers through her lustrous hair. “Good girl, Allie. You understand? Good girl.”
      She looked at my hand, probably hoping it held more candy, but then smiled at the touch. She sniffed at my fingers, detecting some of the residue of the sticky chocolate, and gave them a lick.
      God help me… I didn’t stop her.
      She lapped at my hand insistently, and soon, took a finger in her mouth where some portion of her primitive mammalian instinct told her to suck. So she sucked, eyes locked on mine, cooing around my finger.
      The thought formed before I could stop it. What else could I train her to suck?
      “Absolutely not,” I scolded myself aloud. “She’s your boss, and a human being to boot. You can’t. It’s immoral. You do not, cannot, cross that line. Never.”
      The lecture would almost certainly have failed and left me brainstorming ways to get my prick in her mouth had her computer not beeped to indicate the arrival of an email. I took my finger out from between her lips and wiped it off on my pants; she just smiled at me gratefully. Then I opened the email.
      It was from Oliver Maxwell. Reading it, I saw she’d already contacted him last night about the successful test. “Couldn’t even wait until the ink was dry, could you?” I said. She just smiled uncomprehendingly. I read on. 
      My lab boys have looked over the data you sent, and they’re impressed. You know as well as I do what people will pay for a viable cure, and even if we’d rather have a treatment, it’s still a valuable piece of work. I’m prepared to offer you $9 million for full rights and access to data, and, as discussed, the termination of Dr. Cross. Our information just isn’t secure while he still has access to it. Get back to me with a response – looking forward to doing business with you, Alice.
      “You’re a bad, bad girl.” She frowned at me nervously, unsure what she’d done wrong. I sat down at the keys, and hastily sent a response from her account.
      I’ve thought it over, and I’ve decided not to sell. Cross was right – the people deserve osyluth, and I’m ashamed of myself that I ever considered selling it. Please consider my interest in your offer withdrawn. 
      I didn’t hesitate to hit send – and it was only then that I realized that, if I wanted to make good my intention… I couldn’t heal Alice even if I could discover how. I couldn’t imagine how upset she would be if she remembered any of this, but more importantly, it would mean putting the osyluth back in the bottle.
      Alice had to stay Allie. Analyst that I was, I started to make plans.
      
      
      
      It took weeks to train her to the point where I could leave her alone in the house. In fact, I just decided to move on in to hers – my shoddy little apartment was nothing compared to the luxury she lived in (even aside from the risk of having my neighbors finding out I’d adopted a pet human), and I soon had made myself at home.
      I’d Allie-proofed it immediately, stowing fragile and sharp objects out of the way. I forgot about choking hazards, at first, but when I caught her putting pebbles from a decorative table setting in her mouth, I got those too.
      As days passed, she took to her training rather well. She learned most of the basic, relevant commands one teaches a dog – come, sit, stay, heel, and so on. Toilet training was a nightmare; it hadn’t occurred to me at first, leading to an unpleasant incident in her office that first day. Thereafter, I got some adult diapers that she just barely tolerated, and it was still more than two weeks before she stopped making messes in them and began to use the toilet. (She couldn’t figure out flushing, but still, I called it a victory.)
      I drafted and submitted my petition to advance to human testing to the FDA, forging Alice’s signature where necessary, but with the need to keep a close eye on her at all times, I seldom made it in to the lab. As I took total control over her life, I was grateful for her relatively tame social life. She was single, childless, lived alone, her family lived almost a thousand miles away, and what few friends she had were easy to keep away by text and email. Her dating profile was popular – very popular – but I quietly deleted her account and the endless notifications from her phone stopped.
      There was a brief, mortifying incident when her cleaning lady came in, surprised to find her employer sitting on a cushion in the living room wearing nothing but a diaper. The poor woman turned bright red and ran out of the house; I was able to find her contact info on Allie’s phone and politely told her that her services would no longer be required. She simply replied with the word “pervert” and that was that.
      It’s funny – objectively, I’m still surprised that in those weeks I didn’t touch her in any sexual fashion. She liked to lick, and I allowed that sometimes if it wasn’t too disruptive, but otherwise, I mostly behaved myself. It wasn’t even all that difficult, really. While there are those who might find the sight of a woman in a diaper to be a turn-on, I don’t count myself among them, especially when I’m the one who has to change said diaper and clean her up after.  
      As those became unnecessary, and my efforts to block those memories became more effective… I became increasingly aware of her. She did have those delightful little breasts after all, and a butt that was just too a little too wide and pert for her petite frame. (I would later learn that she’d had it surgically enhanced.) Petting her had been a bit strange, for a while, but perhaps I could… show affection in other ways. That wouldn’t be so wrong, would it? 
      Allie might now be a complete dunce, but she was still very human in the physical sense. 
      Should I have felt bad for using her predicament as an opportunity to enjoy her body? Maybe. Still, she was what she was now, and I didn’t doubt that even if it had been a tragedy in a personal sense, the world was a better place for it. Besides, in her current state… she liked it. 
      I’d wondered if she might still have some kind of natural instincts that might make her dislike being touched in familiar ways. Then again, I’d driven by the dog park on my way to and from the lab every day and none of them seemed to mind having another dog’s nose buried in their genitals. 
      They’d been there, tempting me, for days. Years, if I’m being honest. 
      “Allie, come,” I said to her. She lazily stood up, stretched, and trotted over to me.
      Here goes. I reached out and took a breast in my hand. She watched curiously as I squeezed it softly, my fingers eventually meeting at the nipple, pinching it softly.
      Allie’s eyes widened, and she inhaled sharply. “Guhhhhh…” she said happily.
      “Allie, sit.” With the dopey smile lingering on her face, she sunk to her knees and sat on her heels. I cupped her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Her hands grabbed at mine, trying to keep my hand in place. She knew better by now than to try to use her hands to bully me into doing something, but still, it took a little tugging to get my hand back.
      “Allie, up.” She practically leapt up to her feet, then leaned forward to offer up her tits. Instead, my hand went down between her legs. She was wet – as wet as any woman I’d ever known. She made a startled, delighted noise, then adjusted her stance to make it easier to touch her. I went right for the clit, giving it a few soft strokes.
      “Good girl.” I patted her head and walked away. Another minute of this and I’d be having sex with her, and surely that would be wrong. Surely.
      I woke up to her shaking my shoulder and whining at me in the middle of the night. I glanced at the alarm clock beside her gigantic bed… almost three in the morning. “Go back to bed,” I grunted. “I’m not taking you for a walk now. No.” She did so love to be taken out into her back yard and be allowed to run around a little, chasing bugs and inspecting lawn ornaments for indecipherable reasons. Thank goodness for her privacy fence and the lack of proximity to her neighbors.
      She kept shaking me. “Purrgh,” she whimpered. 
      By reflex, I reached out and swatted her big butt reprovingly. “I said no!”
      But she’d been ready for it – with my arm extended, she pounced on it. With her pussy. Before I could react, Allie was vigorously and artlessly rubbing her pussy on my hand and forearm. 
      “Allie!” I cried. I tried to pull my hand back, but she had nearly her entire weight on it, and while she was a small woman, desperation gave her strength as she humped me with abandon, groaning and clawing at her breasts. I was helpless to stop her as she humped and humped until at last she screeched in release, her body shaking until she just fell over on her side, mouth open, jaw slack, drool trickling out from one corner into the sheets.
      She’d woken me in the middle of the night to force me to get her off, that bad, bad girl. I wanted to spank her. Why, I ought to…
      Wait. What the hell was I saying? I had a beautiful woman – a beautiful woman’s body, at least – on hand, desperate for my touch, unable to sleep with her burning need to get off. I kicked off my pajamas and crawled across the bed to her, lifting her leg and hooking it over my shoulder. Still coming down from her orgasmic high, my former boss just looked at me dumbly as I lined up my dick with her dripping-wet slit.
      “Greeerp!” she squealed as I slid into her. She didn’t move, probably didn’t know what to do even if she wanted to move, as I fucked the bitch. And fuck her I did. Years of pent-up desire co-mingled with a like amount of pent-up frustration.
      Allie lay there gurgling happily as her pussy got good and stuffed. It was appropriate – here I’d been trying so hard to treat her with as much respect and dignity as I could, but really, this was what she was now. Little more than a toy. A sexy, brainless body that had only one real use. 
      “Try to sell me out, huh?” I grunted. “You were gonna fire me? Steal my research? Get rich off of my brain? Well looks like that’s the only thing keeping you going, now more than ever!” Allie didn’t hear any of the few command words she recognized, so she just smiled and played with her tits.
      “That’s right, you little moron, just giggle and get fucked like the stupid bitch you are. About time you became useful – this is the most help I’ve gotten from the great Dr. Langley in years!” I hadn’t called her that in weeks now – it no longer really applied.
      I came in her before long, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy me – wasn’t even close to enough. I fucked two more times – once in the wading pool I’d set up for her in the backyard, (I didn’t trust her not to drown herself in the real pool), and again bent over the desk in her office, that too-perfect ass bouncing wildly as I drilled her in the very spot where she’d conspired to betray me.
      Allie was still grinning after I came in her the third time, and she shook her ass at me enticingly, happy to have another round of cock, whining a little when she saw she wasn’t going to get it.
      
      
      
      In hindsight, I didn’t like the side of myself I’d seen that night – it had been petty and mean-spirited. Sure, Dr. Alice Langley had been a liar and a sell-out, and if she were here, I’d give her a piece of my mind. Instead, all I had was Allie – sweet, simple Allie. A gentle, albeit dim-witted, creature, who asked nothing more from me than the basic essentials for life and the reciprocity of some of her ample affection.
      So when I trained her to suck cock, it was not an act of malice, but just another fun game between us, the way cats chased a laser pointer or dogs played fetch. 
      Allie was a proud girl, liking to show herself off and be recognized for her good behavior – which didn’t happen as often as she thought, but still – and this lead to her wanting to suck me off far more often than I could manage, but it was a good problem to have. She tended to wolf down her meals just so she could rush over and suck me off while I ate mine, knowing that if she did a good job I’d give her a few scraps from the table.
      In time, I learned to manage her well enough that I could even resume work, though finances were now incredibly dicey. All of Dr. Langley’s finances were password-protected even on her own computer and phone, and so I had no way of getting at her fortunes. She could have asked her parents for money as well, but… obviously that was off the table. Hell, without Dr. Langley, I couldn’t even cut myself a paycheck any more. It wasn’t three months before the meager scraps I could scrounge together ran out.
      I had to close the lab. It’s just temporary, I told myself. For now, I could work on processing results, trying my hand at fund-raising, auctioning a few odds and ends from our mansion, and other things to keep us afloat.
      Then one day, I got an email.
      
      From: Oliver Maxwell, CEO, Homunculus Pharmaceuticals
      To: Dr. Douglass Cross
      Hello, Dr. Cross. I’ve been hearing some pretty amazing things about your research over there – Alice said you had quite a break-through. You know, I’ve always thought you were one of the best in our field – to think what a man like you could do with a bigger lab, a staff working under him, and of course a little more money… 
      Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you, let you know that we’re all very impressed. Do you golf? We should hit the links sometime. Call my secretary – she’ll set it up.
      – Oliver
      
      There it was, the answer to my financial woes. Oh, it was all innocent enough on the surface, but Oliver Maxwell didn’t play golf with geneticists unless he was working an angle. Since he hadn’t been able to buy Alice Langley Laboratories, he thought he’d do the next best thing and buy out its talent.
      I knew what it would be like – I’d heard from friends I’d gone to med school with about the lavish salaries, benefits, the resources in the lab… it was a dream come true. I could have all that, perfect and patent osyluth. I’d have financial security and then some. 
      All I had to do was be willing to let that patent be in the name of Homunculus Pharmaceuticals and let Oliver Maxwell turn my benevolent dream into a tiny sector of his profiteering empire.
      I opened up a response email, but just sat there staring at it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to just hear him out, see what kind of offer he would make. I could always say no – and I’d feel proud of myself for rejecting it. Right?
      Is that how Alice had felt when he first reached out to her?
      Presently, she plopped her big ass down on my desktop and thrust her little boobs in my face, the way she did when she wanted to play. Stressed as I was I didn’t have the energy for anything substantial, so I just scooted back and dropped my pants. Gleefully, Alice bent down and swiftly sucked me to hardness, then plopped herself down on my lap, impaling her pussy on my cock and bouncing along merrily without a thought in her head but getting her next orgasm and maybe an oreo if she did a good job.
      I was envious of her sometimes. For my part, I was mostly just grateful for a chance to not have to think about my dilemma, and to let my sweet, stupid, boss-pet fuck herself silly. 
      She screeched happily as she got herself off, and then came the inevitable post-orgasmic pumping to steal a few extra ones in the aftermath. Allie finally just slid off my lap to the floor and wriggled happily, then licked my cock clean like she enjoyed doing. (Vain thing that she was, she loved the taste of herself.)
      Now that my field of vision wasn’t limited to little more than Allie’s tits pushed in my mouth, I saw that the monitor had changed. Somehow, when she’d sat on the desktop, she must’ve plopped her butt down on the keyboard. The email I’d opened to Maxwell had been closed, and in fact, his email to me had somehow been deleted.
      The pressure left. What had I been thinking? To sell my soul for the quick and easy route? I was better than that. By removing the temptation, she had helped me remember. I looked down at her, smiling around my cock, and stroked her hair softly. “Good girl, Allie. You may not have been much of a boss, but you’re a heck of an assistant.” 
      She wagged her tail end happily.