Altered Ch. 06

"I see, then we will let the fates decide," I smiled and she nodded.

The rest of the dinner was a muted affair. We didn't talk much and the mood seemed to be likened to water poured over hot coals. The evidence of fire was still there but the blaze had gone out.

We walked back to the store. I told her I wanted to pick up my things, (all I had were the clothes she gave me so it only took only a minute). I walked her back to pick up her daughter from her neighbor's then we walked her home. Catalina gave Chiara the key and told her to go on ahead, she would be up in a minute. She lived on the third floor and had to walk up and down two flights of steps everyday but didn't mind because it gave her a better view of the ocean.

"I don't know what to say to you. All my life I've been the loner, never able to make small talk, contented to be alone. Now something has changed me. I now feel a need to be with someone and I know that if it was you I'd be a happy man. The fates may not have put us together, but tonight they did. If you need more..." I began, and she stopped me with a kiss which was full of passion and promise.

"I don't do one-night stands but if all we have is tonight then come..." she said grabbing my hand and pulling me to follow her up the stairs.

We went up the two flights of stairs and it felt surreal. It's not like I've never slept with anyone before but this would be my third woman in less than two days. I always had this moral code when I started having sex. To not sleep with anyone, you wouldn't sleep with again. To not have sex for sex's sake. To make sure that my actions with a woman didn't bring her any hurt or any harm. This all stemmed from my therapy sessions growing up. As a victim of molestation, I had to come to terms with how wrong it was, (I thought I was in love with her and they taught me I wasn't). They thought that I would likely harm others so part of my treatment was to come up with a code that I would follow as a constant reminder.

I wasn't ugly before, I was a good looking, maybe a 7 on a ten-point scale if you only counted looks, a 6 if you counted my antisocial behaviors. I had no problem getting women, but with my code it almost became easier not to try.

With my code and my years of therapy I would never consider a three-some, a one-night stand or rough sex and yet all of these things I had either done or was about to do without any feeling of guilt. It's like they brainwashed me in the lab, making me a sexual sociopath. I felt no guilt about possibly getting these girls pregnant, only the memory that I SHOULD feel guilty caused me pause.

Catalina put her daughter to bed and she begged me to read her a bedtime story. I looked at Catalina and she gave me a nod of approval. Unfortunately, the books were in Italian but I recognized a few of them, only one was in English.

"Ahh, 'The Wing Ding Dilly' by Bill Peet. My mother used to read me this when I was your age." She brightened up. "Would you like me to read it to you?"

"Oh please, would you?" she asked, nearly shaking in excitement.

"I bought that for her because she loved the pictures," Catalina explained, "She has never heard the story."

"Ah, well you are in luck! Because when I was little, my mother read this to me sooo many times that I had it memorized. My mother started making up stories based on the pictures one day and OHHH I was SOOO upset, but you know what?"

"What?" Chiara asked, enthralled.

"I soon came to love my mother's made up stories too. But for now, ... I will tell you Bill Peet's story... As best as I can translate anyway, excuse me if I have to take liberties ok?"

Unlike most kid's stories, "The Wing Ding Dilly" takes a half-hour to read. But, she stuck through it despite fighting off sleep the whole way, and I could see the wheels spinning as she listened. The story is of a dog who didn't want to be a dog anymore and instead wanted to be a great horse, something everyone admired. The dog was instead changed into a monstrosity called the Wing Ding Dilly. It caused me pause, it almost felt like Bill Peet was talking about me. The funny thing was, Catalina had never heard the story either as she could not read English very well and by the end she looked just as lost in the story as her daughter.

Finally, I got up from the chair beside her bed and told her good night and left her mother to tuck her in. I sat down at the dining room table and waited on Catalina and saw that she had brought out a bottle of wine and a cork screw, so I got to work opening up the bottle. I looked through her cupboards for her glasses and found two wine glasses and set them on the table just as she finally reappeared.

"She has never fallen asleep so fast. You have a way with children," she smiled.

"I have never had kids of my own and I never had any children that I fostered in any way either. But Chiara could melt anyone's heart with her sweetness."

"Yes, she doesn't trust men usually, her father was abusive..." she said, and I gave a questioning look. "No, not to her... to me! But, for some reason she trusts you."

"According to Emelia, I am a father of at least four children that I don't know. I hope that if I ever get to meet them that they will give me half of that love. She is a wonder, your daughter."

We drank some wine and started talking about this and that. The water-soaked fuel was dried out and slowly the embers burned, until a small blaze grew once more.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my seat. She led me to her sparse room and kissed me then kicked the door closed. We made love for hours, (I used condoms this time). She was kinkier than I expected and we ended up doing things and taking positions I would expect with a younger lover. She moaned and screamed and called out my name and I whispered loving things in her ear as I brought her to orgasm after orgasm. Finally, exhausted she called it quits and fell asleep beside me.

I was wide awake so after I waited until she was in a deep sleep I cleaned up our mess. Threw the used condoms in a baggy so I could dispose of it in the garbage bin downstairs. I left Catalina a goodbye note and a promised to come back as soon as possible.

I took off to see Anna. It was time to 'help' her.

I walked to Anna's Mansion on the hill, and although it was probably one or two in the morning I knew she would still be up. I rang the bell over and over, and she finally opened the door.

"Of course, it's you! You're up a little late!" she said, perturbed. "Come in."

The place was a mess, dust everywhere, things strewn about haphazardly.

"What brings you over here at this late hour?"

"I knew you'd still be up. I was right, wasn't I?"

She gave me a murderous look but shook it off and answered, "Yes..."

"I came to tell you that although your offer of marriage is a generous one, I cannot do it. I'm sorry."

She looked defeated, "This couldn't wait until morning."

"No, I have come to cure you, then I am leaving."

"I told you I will not have sex out of wedlock."

"We aren't going to HAVE sex," I replied.

"From my research, you would have to have sexual contact with me in order for you to sample my DNA and produce the correct antibodies custom for me..."

"Well, I did a little research in Catholicism and Italian culture and heavy petting is frowned upon but not considered sex. Many women in other faiths believe anal sex is an acceptable alternative to vaginal sex..."

"I am NOT having sex in my... my butt!" she said.

"Even if it saves your life?" I asked. She gave me a look that would kill, so I went on, "I wasn't proposing to have anal sex anyway. Oral."

She looked at me like I was crazy, but no longer had a murderous tint.

"Are you crazy?" she asked.

"No, you are going to have to give me the longest blowjob of your life, the longer the better... I will hold off as long as I can..."

"But, the research suggests that swallowing cum is not as effective and I doubt it would cure me."

"True, but you aren't going to swallow it, you are going put it in you afterward... I will jerk off into a baggy or something, you can turkey baster it or something."

She sat there stunned and looked at me, through me really, but they she snapped back, "But..."

"No buts, this is a technicality, it gets around your rules and it will save your life... You don't even have to take your clothes off," I said unzipping my pants.

She wanted to protest, but then she moved toward the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To get a baggy!" she said. I forgot about that.

What proceeded was the unsexiest blow job I ever had. In a way it was good because I needed to last as long as possible, but in another way, it sucked because I was going to have a hard time cumming. After an hour of pretty much rubbing my dick inside her mouth she started getting sore, so she started jerking me off at the same time. I fantasized that I was with Victoria and Catalina at the same time. Both of them on top of each other, with the pussies stacked so that I could fuck them both like I'd seen in a porno. The fantasy did the trick and soon I pulled out and grabbed the baggy and jerked myself a few more strokes and I came and came over and over again practically filling up the sandwich bag full, then I sealed the zip.

"Can you do this yourself?" I said holding up the baggy, "Or should I get you some help?"

She looked at me funny, "I think I can handle it... I have special pillows the prop me up in different positions. I am still strong enough to do it myself, with some effort," she answered.

"Fine, get to it. I'll wait here."

"You can go... I don't need your help."

"Maybe not but if you mess up and spill the package, what then? No. I'm going to stay until I'm satisfied it is working," I said. "Besides, it will make you sick for a while, you'll need someone here. I'll just crash on the couch."

She gave a huff as if putt out but I could see in her eye she was grateful. And off she went, baggy in hand, the other steering her wheelchair to her room. She had a wheelchair lift that took her chair up and down the stairs and her chair had a lift built in that helped her into her bed.

I couldn't sleep so I started cleaning her house. I don't know why but it gave me something to do to keep my mind off of what I needed to still do. After four hours I finally had it looking pretty decent. I was getting tired so I laid down on her couch for a quick cat nap. The sun was rising outside so I covered my face with a throw blanket and soon drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of screaming and moaning. I jumped off the sofa and rushed over to source of the screams. I practically broke down Anna's door since she had it locked, the oaken wood splintered and the doorjamb broke free of the wall. I saw Anna, writhing, face twisted in pain and sweat soaking everything. I knew this was part of the healing process but it was still disconcerting. It was like having a fever squared, her body wasn't just fighting off her infections, it was fighting itself as her very DNA was 'corrected.'

There really wasn't anything I could do except ease her pain and help her as best I could. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed a serving tray, filled a pitcher with cold water and filled an ice bucket with ice. I wasn't sure if pain killers would work, according to what I knew the process defeated any drugs in the system so painkillers would probably at best unsettle her stomach or even lengthen the process.

When I got back I grabbed a hand towel on the side of her bed and poured water on it and wrapped it around some ice then used it to cool her head. She seems to calm down a bit but she still writhed in pain. I filled a glass with water and pulled her to a sitting position. She seemed to barely acknowledge that I was there, but she must have been used to being cared for because she drank the water in a way that bespoke of old habits.

I stayed by her side, comforted her as best as I could and after what seemed hours, she finally calmed and fell asleep. Her bed was soaked in sweat, but I didn't want to wake her so I just covered her in a blanket and kept vigil.

I heard a knocking at the door downstairs so I walked down to answer. When I opened the door, a buxom blonde was standing expectantly. She looked to be Norwegian or Swedish, definitely not Italian and her accent confirmed it.

"Hi, I'm Greta..." she said, as if I should know who she was.

"Hi, Greta... I'm Mike..." I said, hoping she would elaborate.

"I am Anna's personal caretaker," she said. I looked at her confused so she expanded her explanation, "She called me and offered me a raise and a bonus if I came back to work for her so... Here I am," she said, kind of bubbly. Damn Swedish woman could be attractive and she was a bombshell.

"Come in, Greta... Um, I guess you've worked here before so you know where everything is... Just one thing though. She is kind of sick right now. She had a fever and her bed is soaked with sweat. I cleaned most of the vomit on the floor but she will probably need cleaning when she wakes up."

"Oh, my. Let me go check on her..." she walked toward her door and she noted the broken door with her eyes.

"She locked the door and she was screaming in pain so I had to break it in," I explained.

When she saw that Anna was still alive she looked disappointed and I was confused until the roundhouse high heel to the face nearly took my head off. I was lucky I moved in time and she missed my temple. The pain still knocked me unconscious.

I must have recovered in seconds, because I woke up to a blurry image clearing of "Greta" preparing a syringe at Anna's bed side. I shook my head clear and jumped back.

"Assassin! Let's try that again, bitch!" I growled.

She looked at me unconcerned until I rushed at her with an unnatural speed that made her eyes suddenly go 'oh shit, I underestimated him.' She reacted with the last ditch offensive maneuver, another roundhouse, which she realized mid kick was the wrong move to make because I was moving faster than she anticipated.

I rushed past her swinging heel and got in so close that her thigh slapped my side and caused her leg to wrap around me. I hit her with a palm strike to the chest, as she stuck me with whatever was in that syringe. She flew over the bed and tumbled to the floor on the other side.

The poison, whatever it was burned in my veins. My head was spinning and suddenly filled with images and thoughts.

'You thought you could beat me so easily?' thoughts invaded my mind.

My mind filled with pain and it drove me to my knees. I fought with my mind trying to rid myself of the pain. Suddenly I was filled with painful memories, it was like everything bad that happened to me was suddenly being reviewed. My mother being handcuffed and taken away from me. Me being dragged from my house into the waiting social workers car. I could remember things that I couldn't before. The memories of growing up with my mother. The love she always had in her eyes for me... She taught me how to defend myself. She taught me how to use emotions to block psychic attacks!

Rage! I filled my mind with hate and anger, driving out the pain and the mind manipulations. They did not relent but I could slowly move my body again. I grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled myself to me feet. I could barely walk, so I leaned against the bed and used its leverage to move around to the other side. There she was, Greta, her eyes not as confident as I steadily moved towards her. The drugs were slowing me down and her mind attacks kept hitting me like rubber bullets.

Greta did not look like she was doing very well, her breathing was shallow, and her body was bent at a weird angle. She looked like a crumpled and tossed ragdoll.

I dropped to my knees beside her and grabbed her thigh. I knew. I remembered everything.

"Assassin bitch," I said as I drained her.

I could see the life drain from her eyes, her skin looked pale and translucent, she reminded me of a Gelfling from "The Dark Crystal". Her eyes seemed to sink into their sockets and turned bloodshot.

I felt the rush as her life force boosted my healing exponentially, the poison in my system was driven out and my mind became clear once more. I released Greta before I killed her. She may have deserved to die but not before she answered some questions. I knew that the longer I sapped someone the more and longer control I would have over them. I couldn't control them like a puppet, more like a lovesick desperate lover who would do anything to please you.

I grabbed Greta by her shirt and pulled her to her feet. She felt lighter and looked older like a convalescent atrophied patient. I knew from past experience she would be dehydrated, that accounted for most of the weight loss. But I also had a boost of strength that would last for days; that combined with the alterations of strength and stamina that I already had from the lab experiment made me... well I would love to say a figure as say I was twice as strong but I just knew I was stronger than before.

The sucky thing about draining someone's energy is that they become like children. You have to take care of them, they suddenly become less alert, less intelligent and forgetful. Not to mention the effects it has on your body afterward. After the effects of the strength and stamina gain diminish, you kind of crash. You become weaker for a couple of hours and you feel dizzy, nauseous and headachy like having a hangover.

The problem was, that I was a special case, I have unusual powers that extended beyond a normal vampiric psychic. I created the same need in my partner while having sex that I would have if I drained them. It's why both Theresa and Vanessa were both so agreeable to me, at least I thought. If I stuck around, the same would be true of Catalina. The thing was, the effects faded over a day but they never go away completely. In theory, the more I had sex with a person the stronger the permanent link became and wearing a condom didn't help, any skin to skin contact during sex did the trick.

I remembered everything, somehow Greta in her desperation to attack me removed the mental block I had. They hadn't taken my memory of my first twelve years away because of my mother; they did it because my abilities posed a threat.

My father didn't hire the psychic, there was a secret society of Ataruians called Oririri Ex Cinere or OEC for short. They were a secret society of Ataruians they appointed themselves overseers of Ataru society here on Earth. Their leader was a real psychopath and was rumored to torture and experiment on people for the betterment of Ataru kind. It was one of their representatives that proposed that if I had sex with someone I had just drained, the link that I created with that person would make them a permanent thrall. This potentially threatened the OEC powerbase so they had my memories blocked to neutralize me. I guess I should be grateful they didn't simply kill me, which was their normal modus operandi.

I needed answers from this assassin and quick, "Who sent you Greta?" I asked, as I gave her a glass of water.

Greta looked like she was going to cry. She was proud of her body, but as she surveyed it, she looked like a shriveled prune. Like she was in the water too long but all over her body.

After she finished her first glass of water she answered, "Please, they'll kill me if they find out I said anything... It was the OEC."

The OEC? My mother used to tell me all about Ataru society. I remembered that the OEC had a pact with the Illuminati and so it didn't seem likely they'd try to assassinate an Illuminati member.

"What? Don't they have a pact or something?"

"They did, until recently. The OEC murdered a few people to get to someone people are calling the Ataruian Messiah. Things went badly and they were exposed on national television. The Illuminati wanted nothing to do with it and have cut off all ties with the OEC. I just follow orders, they say jump I say how high."