Mare's Tales - Chapter 30 – by: Beverly Taff

With our long sojourn at an end we finally returned full circle to
the same pretty yacht haven we had left so long ago. Things had
changed enormously for all of us but not so much as to damage or
affect the intense feelings we still had for the friends we had left
behind. Margaret, Jane, Diana and I were overjoyed to see our centaur
friends waving excitedly on the quay as our weather-beaten yacht
nosed its way into her old familiar berth.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the centaurs created not
a whisper of comment. Their existence was well known throughout the
district now and the locals took them in their stride. A few heads
turned amongst the foreign visiting yachts but that was of little
consequence. More local heads were turned to study the return of the
large yacht whose berth had lain invitingly empty for so long. It had
often been used in our absence by visiting yachts but the haven master
was more than pleased to see one of his old charges return to her
proper place. The arrival of a large weather-beaten sailing cruiser
added a certain dimension to the status of the marina. 'A proper yacht'
as the haven master observed when we berthed.

Jacqueline, Jennifer and Cynthia were literally prancing with
excitement as the last ropes were secured and we joined them on the
wooden pier. Their hooves were beating out a veritable tattoo of
anticipatory pleasure as we hurled ourselves ashore to hug and be
hugged in turn.

The three older children, Bernadette, Jeanette and Susan were overjoyed
to see their old friends and gleefully wrapped their arms around the
centaurs upper human torsos. Our younger children Nicholas, Christine
and Pauline simply squealed with delight and demanded to be allowed on
their backs. This was agreed and we happily marched off to the marina
clubhouse. Here I was delighted to meet Veronica again with two tiny
toddlers in her charge. They were Jacky's and Vee's babies who had been
conceived before we'd left. I could see my likeness and turned to kiss
both Jacky and Vee as the children clambered up onto their mother's
backs.

At the Marina office I left the boat in the care of the staff and we
entered the restaurant to have a meal. The centaurs had been regulars
at the yacht club during our absence and their attendance at the bar
and restaurant caused no fuss. They even had their own special 'table'
installed in a large bay window. They had paid this additional feature
from their own funds when the clubhouse had been refurbished so the
centaurs were welcome 'regulars'.

Finally, after a slap up meal we squeezed into the large campervan to
make our way home. Once inside the privacy of the van Margaret and I
explained about our microchip inserts and the pleasure we could enjoy.
The centaurs were excited and intrigued by the operation and expressed
a real interest in them. We also discussed the advent of the comet and
the consequent worldwide sterility. For the time being though,
Margaret, Bernadette and I kept our fertility a secret and exchanged
sly smiles as we hugged our desperate secret close to our breasts.

As evening fell, we stopped at a pub for a break. I couldn't help
noticing how much my centaur friends were taken for granted and caused
little stir amongst the locals. Admittedly we lived only a few more
miles up the road and my friends were now often seen out and about.
Their ready acceptance however, was great comfort to me as we settled
under the orchard trees in the pub garden enjoying our reunion.

The meteor's appearance had changed many things and the whole
perspective of mankind had altered. As the whole human population
nervously waited any developments by scientists they had adopted a
much more tolerant attitude. Nobody had any idea where the solution was
to be found and Debbie's unique pregnancy in the U.S.A. Had only served
to confuse and cloud the issue. My friends told me that they had
received many requests to engage in research to try and help resolve
the problem. Even to the point of possible impregnation by other
species. Less knowledgeable people had thought that the centaur's
condition was a congenital one and were disappointed when informed
otherwise. There appeared to be no hope for mankind and every passing
year made the issue more desperate.

All this and more, our group discussed as we sat and chatted under the
warm dying rays of the midsummer sun. As the soft evening twilight
turned to night, it brought an uncomfortable chill into the garden we
eventually clambered into the campervan and arrived home in the short
dark hours of midnight.

Dear old Dot the maid was waiting up for us and the scene at the yacht
haven was repeated again as we exchanged delighted hugs and kisses. We
then tumbled into the living room where she had thoughtfully prepared
some hot cocoa drinks and biscuits. We did not linger long however.
Diana, Margaret and I couldn't wait to get into the big bed to
demonstrate the new microchips and our subsequent enhanced abilities.

The prospect of enjoying a nightlong session of uninterrupted pleasure
left us tense and eager with anticipation. The centaurs, ever sensitive
to atmosphere, sensed our tension and we ended up abed before the cocoa
was even finished.

Our titanic performances that night left our friends in no doubt about
the benefits of the microchips and they unanimously decided to have
them implanted. We decided to do Jane and Jenny first. They had the
only other cocks amongst our widening circle and I was to be
excessively in demand until they could be 'done'. We contacted Miss
Green who despatched the microchips and Doctor Tomlinson to assist in
the operations.

On the second day of our return I was surprised to hear a baby's cry
from Jacky's bedroom. My blood ran cold with surprise as I tried to
imagine what possible explanation their lay behind Jacky's door. I
tapped gently on her bedroom door and a worried voice required me to
'wait a minute'! Curiously I did as instructed before the door finally
opened slightly and Jacky's nervous face appeared in the narrow gap.

"What d'you want?" she whispered.

"That cry," I replied. "It sounded like a baby. What was it?"

Jacky paused nervously as she fumbled with the chain.

"You may as well come in. You'll find out soon enough anyway."

I paused at the threshold of the bedroom as she stared dejectedly at
the floor. My eyes settled on a large crib device where I noticed a
blanket with something moving underneath.

"Good god!" I gasped with shock. "Have you got a baby?"

"Uhmm. Not quite," murmured Jacky as she carefully leant over the cot
and gently peeled the blanket back to reveal a little baby's head.

There was a soft gurgle of delight as the baby looked up and smiled
before Jacky lowered the side of the crib. I gaped with shock as she
gathered up the blankets and strained gently as she carried the large
bundle to her bed.

The entire bundle was far too big to be a human baby and I lurched
forward with surprise as a corner of the blanket flopped down to reveal
a foal's hoof. For a few seconds I was dumbstruck as she gently laid
the bundle on the bed and clambered up onto it herself. Then she
settled down with her pony legs tucked under her and the extended
bundle laid gently alongside her on the bed. She gently took the human
torso and lifted it to her human breasts where the baby began to suck
greedily on it's mid-morning feed.

Jacky looked at me and smiled with pleasure as her baby nestled in her
arms with the lower part covered in the blanket. I stared at the foal's
legs protruding out from under the rear edge and finally came to my
senses.

"Good god! Jacky. "Have you gone mad? Is that a baby centaur?"

"Yes," she replied defensively. "I have as much right to a baby as
anyone else! Her name is Jemma."

"But what in God's name possessed you? Do you realise what society
will do when they find out?"

"Yes. It's going to be the first step towards solving the fertility
problem. It may end up being the only straw they can clutch at."

I stopped suddenly as I realised what she was saying. My centaur
friends had been secretly tackling the infertility problem by following
the interspecies path. Jacky's baby had been the first result. I smiled
softly as I realised that they had enjoyed a large measure of success.
Gently I sat beside Jacky and pulled the blanket off the baby. It was
obvious that the baby had been born a centaur and was not a baby
grafted onto a foal. I softly stroked the downy golden flanks as I
investigated the baby's form.

The baby was wearing a nappy cleverly covering its front parts and
Jacky observed my interest.

"Yes, Jemma is just like the rest of us."

"You mean you achieved it with genetics?" I gasped.

"Of course. It was the only way."

"Who's eggs did you use?"

"We used Cynthia's human egg for the baby part and one of my own pony
eggs for the foal."

I stared mesmerised at the perfect little centaur as it suckled
greedily away.

"And you conjoined the eggs in a dish before implanting?" I
conjectured.

"That's more than oversimplifying it. There was a lot of genetic
engineering but it's worked. Clever aren't we."

"I'll say. But how did you get the fertilisation to succeed?"

"We discovered that at a critical phase if we conjoined a genetically
engineered fertilised pony blastis with one of Veronica's genetically
engineered eggs we could get a successful transplant and foetus."

I shook my head with amazement As Jacky continued.

"The problem is that all the centaurs end up as female in both parts,
although we think we can make the next centaur like Jenny, with a
stallion's lower portion."

"No human male parts though?" I observed.

"'F'raid not. No way around that one yet. There's no male sperm to work
on."

"So there is still little hope of the necessary biological diversity so
essential to evolution and advancement."

Jacky shrugged her shoulders as she gently transferred her baby's mouth
to the other breast. The centaur's little legs paddled helplessly on
the bed and I realised that Jemma's motor development was following a
human pattern. She would not be able to walk for several months yet.
This was of course, totally unlike a foal that would get up and scamper
off almost immediately.

"Her intellect and things. All human I hope?"

"Yes. That was the most important factor. Emma is as helpless as a
human baby and will develop like one."

To emphasise this Jacky gave her baby a gentle hug as she softly rocked
Emma in her arms.

"Did you carry her to full term?"

"Yes, eleven months and then I bore her like any mare. Mothering was a
huge learning curve but I've got lots of willing helpers."

I smiled and kissed Jacky softly. She had finally achieved her lifelong
ambition and 'had a baby'. For her, the meteor had been lucky event.
It had given her and my friends the opportunity to give Jacky a baby
without any moral concerns. Humanity had far bigger problems on its
plate and this was a realistic avenue that might yet provide an
alternative solution to mine and Bernadette's. I replaced the blanket
and sat up on the bed as Jenny entered.

"Well-well daddy. I believe congratulations are in order."

Jenny smiled and clambered onto the bed beside Jacky.

"Small beginnings Bev. We should be getting some progress now that you
and Margaret are back."

I smiled inwardly. Little did they know?

"I'm sure we will. This is all a secret though I presume?"

They nodded their heads in unison as Jemma eventually stopped suckling
and Jacky's attentions turned to her nappy. I sniffed and smiled as I
realised just how human Emma was.

"Well. Nappy days are over for me. No more babies for me."

"Bev," observed Jenny softly. "They are over for all of us unless we
can solve this comet-sterility thing."

I bit my lip as I realised I might had said something I shouldn't.
Jenny was as sharp as ten razors and she was already studying me with a
queer expression. I made my excuses and prepared to leave as Jenny and
Jacky attended to Jemma's nappy. It took two people to handle her
easily. A baby centaur was quite a handful and two pairs of hands were
needed to stop the legs kicking while changing a nappy. I smiled to
myself. It would be interesting to see what sort of chaos a centaur
'toddler' would create. Four clumsy little hooves were going to be an
interesting situation when she got to be really curious. I reflected
that only the centaurs would be able to catch her once she really got
going. Some baby!

The innocent curiosity of a human child coupled with the boundless
energy and mobility of a foal was going to be enormous fun. I chuckled
to myself as I wandered downstairs.

As I entered the main hall the crunch of tyres on gravel announced the
arrival of Doctor Tomlinson from America. Dot and I greeted her and led
her inside. She enthused ecstatically about our home and demanded to be
shown the whole place before even considering the work we had planned.

"Gee this is a really old place. I love old country houses," she
beamed.

Patiently Margaret and I led her on the 'grand tour' as her strident
voice echoed along the corridors and through the rooms.

Eventually we bumped into Veronica and Cynthia as they were carrying
some trays of test tubes between labs. Doctor Tomlinson let out a
shriek of pleasure and rushed forward to greet them.

"Heck I've been dying' to meet you guys. Ever since Bev and I met in
New Orleans."

Before Vee and Cye had a chance to put down the trays, the excited
doctor was all over them inspecting their various anatomies. Vee and
Cye took it in good part until she insensitively tried to investigate
their more personal parts.

"Excuse me. Do you mind?" scolded Vee softly as she laid a restraining
hand on Doctor Tomlinson's arm. "We are not laboratory animals."

The doctor crimsoned and realised she had made a serious faux pas and
apologised effusively.

"No harm done and no offence taken," added Cye forgivingly.

"You'll have all the time in the world to see what we're made of when
we have the implants."

"Gee. I- I'm sorry eh- eh-," she hesitated, not sure how to address my
centaur friends.

"Call us ladies. That's how we think of ourselves," smiled Vee.

"Yeah- uh yeah, Ladies. I'm a sorry miss."

"Apologies accepted. No harm done. Call me Cye, everybody does.
Actually, your reactions were quite subdued compared with others we've
met," confided Cye, "Let's go and meet Jenny and Jacky."

"Are they the others?" asked the doctor.

"Yes. They're in the nursery."

Doctor Tomlinson's eyes widened uncertainly. She was puzzled.

"What. You mean they- they're pregnant?"

"You'll see when you meet them. Come on follow me," invited Vee.

The Doctor trotted eagerly after Veronica as Cye, Margaret and I
returned to the labs with the samples. When we met again later the
doctor was still chattering about Jemma. It was several minutes before
we could get her to discuss the implants. It seemed the more she
learned about my friends the more fascinated she became.

The following morning we had a general meeting were the various aspects
of everybody's sexuality was discussed and a strategy was evolved.

Jane decided to be 'switched on' first. Her operation would be
straightforward and we desperately needed another rampant cock. Her
operation was immediate and within a few days we had the desired
addition to our group. Nights assumed a more relaxed and settled air as
each of our friends had a larger share of my and Jane's delights.

We had to spend a longer time checking and researching the various
sexualities of my friends before they finally had suitable implants.
Doctor Tomlinson had to completely re-programme the chips to
accommodate the equine sexualities coupled to the human libidos.
Eventually, suitable microchips were programmed and Jenny was able to
share her delightful new stamina with Jet. She could now produce her
stallion's erection on demand for the infinite pleasure of the others.
More importantly, Vee, Cye and Jacky were able to activate her cock so
that Jenny could be reduced to the state of a sex slave, always
available when the others felt horny.

Eventually, all the centaurs were implanted and within a month, our
group had become a closed network of lovers who could 'contact' each
other by secret means whenever they felt horny.

Needless to add, Doctor Tomlinson had secretly left me with the 'master
zapper'. My friends were not aware of this and I secretly hugged myself
with anticipation at the thought of being able to 'call up' any of my
friends as and when I felt horny.

My first experiment was to seek out Vee and quietly 'switch her on'
with some very low powered sensations. The gentle stimulation without a
climax left her hopelessly aroused and she actively sought me out to
satisfy her desperate needs. Neither Vee nor any of my friends ever
realised that only Margaret and I had the 'bypass' facility to get past
their own on-off switches. I had some very interesting times, gently
exciting all and any of my friends whilst they genuinely thought that
they were having natural urges.

Eventually that long happy summer gave way to the inevitable golden
days of autumn. Jane had to return to pick up the reins of her family
stevedoring business whilst Diana had to resume her post in the
university.

The day had arrived for Margaret and I to take our children to Miss
Lanes. For the three older ones, Bernadette, Jeanette and Susan, it was
a resumption of their ordinary education and it held little if any
particular excitement. They would be senior pupils in the upper school
and free to enjoy the privileges so pleasurable to that rank.

For the younger children, Nicholas, Christine and Pauline, it was their
first day in the middle school and everything was to be new and
exciting. Some things had changed at the school but essentially the
same reign prevailed.

Margaret returned as school physician and would be responsible for the
microchip implant surgery. We all recognised it as an excellent process
for training and discipline. All new pupils were to be so treated and
even some of the older pupils were to be treated retroactively if their
parents agreed. Lots of parents agreed and were pleasantly surprised at
the changes in their children. Many a recalcitrant young boy-girl was
to become a model pupil and child.

This now left me alone again with my centaur friends and Dot. After so
long out of circulation I was quite keen to get back into some research
project.

My four friends had been regularly bombarded with mail from the
academic world concerning the sterility problem and beseeched me to
join them. At first I feigned reluctance so they dragged me to see
Diana at the university. There, Diana pleaded and almost bullied me
into helping them with their studies.

"Look Bev," she nagged, "your research into genetics is well known and
your friends have already moved someway down the path with Jemma's
conception. I think it only right and proper of you to help humanity in
this it's darkest hour."

"You'd better not mention Jemma just yet," I warned. Veronica and Jenny
would never forgive you."

"Well are you going to help or not?" chided Diana.

Pretending reluctance, I allowed myself to be 'persuaded'. Any research
that was supported by the university would be an ideal cover for my
plans. I could keep my fertility a secret whilst pretending to re-
discover a new 'elixir of life'.

"Oh O.K. then," I agreed, feigning resignation, "but I want freedom to
follow my own ideas and explore my own avenues with my friends."

"Oh don't worry Bev. The college will be more than happy to let you go
your own way and they will help you with the new licensing rules about
worldwide efforts and moral questions. Nobody has got near a solution
yet."

"O.K. It's a deal then. I'll use my own resources and any discoveries
will be licensed to us. If it's successful, we will do a share deal
with the college for any development."

Diana nodded.

"I'll have to settle it with the college principals but I think that's
a deal. The only thing is that research on any human foetal material
has to be sanctioned through us by the world fertility research
council."

I almost hugged myself as we broke off for lunch. We dined in the staff
refectory were a few familiar faces smiled as we entered.

"Glad to see you back ladies. Are you joining us on the fertility
project?"

We smiled and nodded our agreement before taking our places at lunch.
Diana had already approached her departmental bosses and our deal was a
foregone conclusion. As we drove home later we chatted happily about
what avenues to explore. I was almost bursting to tell my friends the
real truth but it was just to early yet.

" What strategies have you tried so far?"

"Well mainly cloning but it's not satisfactory. We still haven't been
able to reproduce any fertile male material. The meteor's radiation
actually damaged or altered the genetic code. Virtually every male cell
has been rendered incapable of reproducing itself correctly. We just
don't fully understand all the primary triggers of cell replication as
to sexual selection," admitted Jacky, our specialist bio-engineer. "It
seems to go back further than D.N.A, almost to the primordial amino
acids."

"So even with all our store of genetic mapping we haven't got there."

"'F'raid not," admitted Cynthia dejectedly. But with our full license
to work on foetal material we should be able to get somewhere. We
should be able to find some way of creating human babies."

"That's all very well," argued Jacky, "but how do we intend to
literally create a male human zygote to enable selection and genetic
variation. That's the age-old question. Look we've gone over all this
ground before. It does my head no good to tread the same old paths. I
was hoping you'd come up with some new ground," she finished irritably.

I smiled inwardly and wondered if it was safe to divulge my secret. I
decided to have a long chat with Margaret and Bernadette that weekend.
The rest of the drive home was spent in reflective silence.

The remainder of the week produced little joy. I pretended to lock
myself away in my labs and appeared to spend long hours deep in thought
and testing different theories. My friends simply plodded on with their
earlier work with occasional forays into my office in the hope of any
breakthrough. At the weekend I took my leave and visited Margaret at
Miss lanes, ostensibly to try and get some inspiration.

Luckily, Jeanette and Susan were playing hockey away to another school.
Bernadette, like me, was never able to represent the school. Her cock
would have been a dead give away in the showers. This provided an ideal
opportunity for the three of us to get away and discuss our tactics.
We took a picnic and drove onto the moors. There in a remote little
valley by a stream swollen with autumnal rain we discussed what to do.

"Don't forget Bev. The more people who know about you two, the more
dangerous it becomes."

"I know that Maggie. Nobody knows that better than Bernadette and I.
But, as Jacky points out, there's no apparent way that we - or anybody
else for that matter-, can re-create a genetically accurate human
sperm. The nearest anybody has got to it is the hominid ape and god
knows what that has done to the brainpower. God alone knows what
grotesque failures there are lying around in labs all over the world.
I shudder to think. Even with all the genetic mapping we've done, the
brain genome is a vast field. It's the biggest single variable between
man and ape."

"You mean it's acting like God again?"

"Precisely. We have no sperm to go on so we have no way of determining
what is right and what's wrong. We haven't got a template. Unless we
use ours," I finished ominously.

We sat in silence as the stream's wild chatter flooded into our
thoughts. Bernadette handed me some tea and I shuddered protectively.
'God forbid if someone got hold of her.' She saw me shiver and read my
thoughts then sat beside me on the blanket.

"Mummy, d'you think we'll have to go public?"

"Not if I can help it."

"But how can we disguise our genetic profile even if we produce the
sperm anonymously."

"That's the problem my darling. Our genetic profile is too well
documented. They would soon recognise it when they compared it with our
own researches when we did the centaurs."

"So we'd have to disguise the genetic profile then," suggested
Bernadette.

I studied Bernadette. She wasn't just a pretty face.

"Go on," I prompted as Margaret moved closer to listen.

"Well mummy, they'd recognise our genetic profile because we are
virtually the same, and even if we pretended that it had come from a
test tube they would still recognise it, especially aunty Jacky. She's
got a mind like a razor. She'd notice the statistical similarities."

"Agreed," I nodded.

I knew only too well how intuitive and penetrating Jacky could be.

"So why don't we alter enough of the genetic profile to try and
disguise the sperm, then make it public as though we had managed to
produce it in the labs."

I mulled the idea over in my mind. I had toyed with a similar idea
before but it was strange how Bernadette and I thought along similar
lines. I hugged her gently. We both knew the risks but it seemed a
plausible avenue of approach. Bernadette continued.

"I think the first task is to establish if we have any genetic
differences. If there are differences then we can use them as the
points of divergence. It'll throw people further off the track."

I turned to Margaret who was smiling readily. The collection of
Bernadette's sperm was going to be a regular task that she would
enjoy. Bernadette caught our glances and giggled defensively.

"I knew it. You want to start now."

"Well it's a good as time as any."

Bernadette scrambled to her feet and scampered along the path. As she
brushed past me she splashed my tea over my skirt and I squealed after
her.

"Come here you minx. Look what you've done."

"You'll have to catch me first mummy!" she shrieked as she turned and
laughed.

It was impossible for me to catch Bernadette for she had not been
modified like me. She could run all day if necessary. Margaret just
shrugged her shoulders and spread her hands dejectedly. I wagged my
head and searched for a cloth to wipe my skirt. As I rummaged through
the picnic hamper that Bernadette had prepared, I inadvertently found
her zapper.

"Well! Well! Now we'll see," I gloated victoriously as I held it up for
Margaret to see.

Then I twiddled briskly with the controls and Bernadette almost stopped
in mid-stride as a pulse of pleasure throbbed through her loins. She
staggered against a tree trunk and lay with her back against the bole
of the tree as her hips rotated helplessly and her thighs mashed
together.

Like a fly trapped in a web she mewled and whimpered as Margaret and I
took our time preparing a sample jar. Eventually we strolled towards
the helplessly twitching Bernadette and slowly raised her frock. There,
bulging under her knickers was a splendid erection with just enough
tumescent agitation to keep her from running or walking but not enough
to start ejaculating.

Gently Margaret and I raised her hem and peeled her knickers over her
suspenders down her soft milky thighs. Poor Bernadette gave of a
helpless squeak as I slowly turned up the zapper to produce the desired
result. Her swollen little organ started to throb and twitch as a
violent spurt of semen splattered into the sample jar, which we had
slipped over the end. Bernadette gave of a series of squeals as the
rhythmic pulses of her penis pumped jet after jet of the precious
liquid into the jar.

"Oh mummy, stop please," she gasped as I studied the growing sample.

"You shouldn't leave this were it can be easily stolen," I scolded
softly as I twiddled with the control. "You could be reduced to nothing
more than a sex slave if some irresponsible person found it."

"Oh yes Mummy. I agree. Anything you say mummy. Please switch it off
now."

Margaret looked up and nodded her head. We had enough sperm for several
months testing. I gave Bernadette her zapper back and she frantically
fumbled with the controls in her desperation to stop her orgasms. She
twisted the controls the wrong way by mistake and her hips gave off one
cataclysmic thrust. She staggered out of control and dropped the zapper
then fell to her knees with a moan of despair and scrabbled in the
undergrowth as her buttocks and hips tossed and gyrated in overload.

Eventually she found the zapper again and clasped it tightly as she
concentrated on correcting the settings. Slowly her writhing subsided
and she endeavoured to pull her grass stained knickers over laddered
stockings. Reproachfully she glared at Margaret and I before scampering
off to the car to change her underwear. Margaret and I smiled at each
other as she stoppered the sample bottle.

As we returned to the car we found Bernadette sulking as she tried to
clean the stains from the front of her frock. It was no use so I
produced a frock from my suitcase, which she angrily snatched off me
and slipped over her head. I then lent her some of my makeup to help
her repair the damage. As Margaret and I cleared up the picnic,
Bernadette busied herself in the vanity mirror. By the time we had
tidied up she was in a happier frame of mind and even tried to suppress
a smile as she watched us through the mirror.

It did not go un-noticed and Margaret and I exchanged sideways glances
as we packed the hamper away. As a nice surprise we let Bernadette have
a driving lesson and she drove all the way back to the school. It was a
happier young lady that clambered out of the driving seat as Jeanette
and Susan enviously watched our arrival. After staying for tea I
returned home with the precious sample. There was a lot to do.

My first task was to break the shocking news about my fertility to my
friends and I decided to wait until our next Tuesday morning's strategy
meeting. At these meetings we bounced ideas off each other and
discussed any likely developments. It was an ideal time to drop any
bombshells. Margaret and I both knew that it was hopeless trying to
disguise the identity of the sperm. My genetic records and profile were
too well known to Jenny and Jacky. They would spot the source within
minutes of working with the sperm in the labs and running it through
the computers. We had to let them in on the secret.

A second problem was that my genetic profile was on record at several
universities, this would be a much bigger problem to surmount. If and
when my samples became publicly available it would not be long before
the secret source became known. This would leave Bernadette and I
hopelessly vulnerable to blackmail or worse, kidnapping. These and many
other problems revolved in my head all through that endless Monday as I
juggled the different conundrums in my tortured brain.

Tuesday dawned dull and cloudy. Autumn was slowly conceding the
season's victory to winter and a cold sleet cut across the grounds.
The biting wind lifted my skirt and made me uncomfortably damp as I
scuttled from the hall to the labs after breakfast. I was glad to reach
the warm embrace of our office were my friends had already settled in
preparation for the usual meeting. I sat near the radiator in an effort
to dry off as Veronica opened the minute book.

Our strategy meetings were not formal affairs but it helped if someone
kept a rough copy of notes and comments. This task usually fell to
Veronica because she had the legal background. I sat in silence as I
shivered by the radiator and contributed little to the meeting. I was
too pre-occupied with the bombshell I was about to drop. Eventually my
silent preoccupation was noticed by Jacky and she stepped close to me
solicitously.

"Are you all-right Bev?"

"Oh yes. You go on. I'll have my say in a minute."

"Well we've not much else to say," pointed out Jenny. "We're not making
much progress," she added dejectedly.

I smiled as I wagged my head and shrugged. It was a habitual gesture
that my friends knew well and it almost always preceded something of
importance. They all responded at once and waited expectantly in
silence.

"Come on Bev," demanded Jacky, "out with it. You'll never make a poker
player."

In this Jacky was correct. I would never be able to break my habitual
twitch and conspiratorial posture when I was on to something. I gave
another defeated shrug and prepared to drop the bombshell.

"I know where I can get some fertile human sperm."

There was a long pause as my four centaur friends sat dumbstruck. I
fidgeted self-consciously for a few seconds before reasserting my
claim.

"I'm not lying, honestly I can get fertile male sperm."

The four of them all started jabbering at once and there was complete
pandemonium before I raised my hands and restored order.

"Before you ask any more questions, I'll go and get some."

They stared at me as I left to get my sample from the liquid nitrogen.
In the privacy of my own labs I left Bernadette's samples and only took
one of my own. In anticipation of this moment I had hidden Bernadette's
sperm in the deep freeze. My own sample I had enjoyed obtaining that
very morning. As I returned to the office the deafening hubbub died an
instantaneous death and I placed the defrosting phial on the desk. My
friends stared at it in suspicious wonder and it was several seconds
before they dared to pick it up.

"Don't be scared of it. They won't bite," I giggled at my own pun.
"Well actually most of them will bite, given the right opportunity."

Jacky held it up to the light and turned to face me. Her questioning
glance said it all.

"Yes, it's mine, all mine," I admitted.

She pulled a long face as the others watched and listened.

"Would you care to explain?"

"It's a long story. You see; we never actually got to see the meteor."

A flash of dawning comprehension crossed Jenny's face as her knowing
smile gradually lit up.

"Of course, -the yacht voyage! Down in the Antarctic."

I nodded affirmatively.

"Does anybody else know?"

"Yes, Margaret."

"And absolutely nobody else?" persisted Jacky.

"To my certain knowledge. No."

I thought it best to protect Bernadette.

"That baby in America that uhmm -" Jacky searched her memory groping
for the name.

"Debbie. The dancer in Las Vegas," I affirmed. "Yes. I'm the daddy but
I won't bore you with details just now. I'll tell you all in good time.
What I need now is your help and ideas about secrecy and anonymity."

My friends finally exploded into a frenzy of delighted chatter as
questions and answers rattled around the room. Veronica eventually
regained order as she entered our computer to list all the pros and
cons of the situation. This action served to settle everybody down
again and a more coherent question and answer session ensued. After an
hour of patiently evaluating every factor we decided a strategy. We had
decided on absolute secrecy to protect the source and this would entail
disguising the sperm. All my friends agreed with what Margaret and I
had long ago concluded. The information was not to go beyond our heads.

All research and development was to remain in our own 'stand alone'
computers to ensure that nothing would get onto the Internet.

Jenny and Jacky would use their passwords and hacking skills to excise
all my relevant genetic information from the different university
computer banks and replace it with changed data. If done slowly and
incrementally, they would be able to alter and modify crucial bits to
ensure that our identities remained anonymous whilst the information
would remain apparently untouched. There were bound to be hiccups
because the genetic techniques we had developed were now common coinage
in bioengineering and medicine. It was where a lot of our royalties
came from.

Fortunately it was mostly to do with the techniques and the actual
genetic information about the five of us was still officially
confidential. There was still a risk however so we would have to
proceed carefully.

We decided to take the rest of the week off to celebrate. It would give
everybody time to think about any flaws or hiccups and I could regale
them with stories of my experiences whilst traveling. They were all
itching to hear about my baby in Las Vegas and how on earth I managed
to avoid being detected by the government agencies.

That evening on the big bed I related all my strange experiences with
Debbie. I described the clever trick she had played with the locking
cock ring and the strange techniques she employed during our
attachment. Eventually, my friends started twitching on the bed and
giggling as they surreptitiously reached for their zappers. The
remainder of the story was left until morning because the tale of the
clitty lock had been the final straw.

The evening degenerated into a game of 'hunt the zapper' as we
exploited the splendid new opportunities afforded by our new toys. By
midnight we had exhausted our bodies and the responses were simply
becoming automatic. Gradually we fell into deep sleeps as our various
libidos capitulated and surrendered to somnolence.

The following morning we each arose at different times as our various
metabolisms reflected their different needs. Slowly we appeared at the
breakfast table in various states of exhaustion with bags under our
eyes and trembling hands.

Gradually the conversation evolved from monosyllabilic grunts to
coherent words as the effects of the previous night were ameliorated by
food. Jacky glanced at me as her mind clicked away.

"I should have realised there was something afoot when you kept
ordering contraceptive pills. I thought it was to help with
Bernadette's development into a fully functioning hermaphrodite. I
little realised that you and she still needed to take them for proper
contraception purposes."

I shrugged guiltily and stared at my cereal bowl. Jacky's sharp mind
raced on and another light dawned.

"Hold on. This means that Bernadette must be fertile as well. She was
with you down there."

I nodded dumbly as Jenny took up the thread.

"Does Margaret know about Bernadette?"

"Yes. I needed a second opinion when I worked it out and Bernadette
will need protection at Miss Lane's. As surgeon at the school, Margaret
can keep an eye on things. She secretly controls Bernadette's zapper so
no 'accidents' happen at the school."

"Huh. Well that's no bad thing. Bernadette and Margaret are the best
place there," agreed Jenny.

"So it's certain that only we have knowledge of the sperm," reasserted
Cynthia.

"Definitely," I replied, "If anybody else knew, there would have been
some sort of response or publicity by now. Debbie hasn't made the
connection with her baby, she's really just a horny bimbo."

"Hmmm. That figures," agreed Vee.

"What about your genetic hermaphrodism?" asked Cye.

"Well I don't think it's affected my fertility but if Bernadette and I
are the only source then it's sure going to make a difference to
mankind. Especially if my or Bernadette's sperm is used to re-seed the
planet as it where."

An amused giggle rippled round the table as my friends contemplated the
demise of 'macho-man'. They pictured a world coming to terms with the
demise of the stereotyped image of an anthropoid overbearing male
dominating his female counterpart. Then being replaced slowly by an
altogether different man. A softly rounded slightly built man with
feminine curves and feelings. A 'man' endowed of both cock and cunt; a
'man' as vulnerable to rape and pregnancy as 'his' mate.

I realised that my friend's minds were running parallel to my own
thoughts and my sex twitched urgently with excitement. I slipped my
hands into the pocket of my jeans and discreetly turned my master
zapper up a notch. This sent my unsuspecting friends into a slightly
higher sexual gear. They would not appreciate it however. Each would
think that their libidos had been excited by their thoughts. Inevitable
however they would become slightly more aroused and start drifting
towards the stairs.

I sat reading the morning paper as my friends sidled past and out of
the morning room. Within minutes they had all ascended the stairs and
found themselves on the big bed again as though by magic. I twitched my
thighs and hugged myself secretly as I realised what unknown control I
had over my friends.

I followed them up the stairs and found them all fiddling with their
zappers as they self-consciously realised that they had all found
themselves horny. Eventually we found ourselves back on the big bed
cuddling and fondling each other as we discussed the various aspects of
the new developments. It was noon before we finally arose properly for
the day.

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about preparations for our
future strategy. Nobody had remembered to collect any of my sperm
during our previous activities and my friends took a perverse delight
in milking my exhausted body for further samples. I felt particularly
vulnerable and used as they employed my own zapper to gently bring me
to an orgasm and milk the sperm from the opening beneath the base of my
cock. I simply lay gasping and panting as they victoriously collected
the sample and galloped to the labs for tests. Only Dot remained beside
me on the bed as I slowly recovered. She helped to dress me and by the
time I'd reached the labs, my friends had divided the sample for their
own individual purposes. I was left as something of a bystander as the
plans got under way.

There were two avenues of attack.

One was to somehow alter the genetic profile of my sperm and the other
was to hack into the computer network of the university to alter the
information stored there. Option Two could be started immediately
whilst we experimented and tested different theories to see what genes
could be most easily altered.

It was several months before we had completed our preliminary work.
Jenny had hacked into the data banks and altered enough information
without getting caught. The main reason being that genetic research had
been dropped in favour of all universities concentrating on solving the
sterility problem. For months, nobody had consulted the data files on
my genetic coding and consequently the gradual alterations had gone un-
noticed. Jenny had even managed to slip onto the Internet and alter
records held at other e-mail addresses without detection. A carefully
controlled 'computer virus' completed our task by creating the file
alterations invisibly whilst other programmes were being viewed.

Our second avenue of attack was already well progressed and we hadn't
even begun to travel the first avenue.

The genetic research we conducted had been the introduction of bio-
engineered viruses to alter certain factors of my sperm. Hair and eye
colour had been the first two lines we had altered so that we could
produce sperm with 'blue, green or brown eyes' and blond, brunette,
black or red hair that was straight, wavy or curly; Mongoloid, Negroid
or Caucasian,

The final plan was to ensure that my genetic hermaphrodism remained.
Careful studies and genetic manipulation ensured that my hermaphrodism
became and remained a 'dominant gene'. We also managed to alter the
puberty trigger genes so that the hermaphrodism didn't appear until
puberty. All male boys would suddenly develop their permanent primary
and secondary female characteristics at puberty and carry them for
life. At puberty they would suddenly develop fully functioning female
organs with a ready ability to conceive. At twelve or thirteen they
would start to develop the slender waists and rounded hips with soft
rounded breasts adorning the boyish chests.

No longer domineering and overbearing they would enter their teens and
mature to be slightly smaller and less strong than their sisters, thus
unable to bully them.

Our final trick though was our best.

Jacky managed to achieve her final aim in making each boy-girl
incapable of impregnating herself. They would only be able to
impregnate consenting girls or other boy-girls. Furthermore another
genetic manipulation ensured that boy-girls could only ever conceive
girls. Only full girls could conceive both girls and boy-girls. This
ensured that no boy-girls could be come 'inbred' and that normal
transgenic transfer would occur during conceptions. This ensured that
the 'new sexes' would still have to mix to ensure the genetic diversity
for survival of the species.

The final twist was that our activities would not become readily
apparent for twelve years until the new generation of children reached
puberty.

Many a night we chuckled at the huge joke we were going to play on
mankind.

"Just imagine," chuckled Jacky, "all those macho fathers buying guns
and footballs for their step-sons only to discover their 'sons'
suddenly wanting, indeed; needing to buy frilly feminine clothes as
the hormones kick in and their breasts begin to grow."

"Yes, but think of all the women who'll be able to walk safely on the
streets without fear of rape. We will all be of similar build and
equally vulnerable to attack. It will make everybody in the world
genuinely equal," added Jacky on a more serious political note.

"D'you think it will stop wars as the old macho-men die out like
dinosaurs and the new femi-men take their place?" queried Jenny.

"It might," I suggested. "But wars are usually started by greed and
there are plenty of greedy women."

"On the other hand," countered Jacky, "many wars are started by
religion and most of those religions are patriarchal." Just look at
what this sterility problem has already done to these patriarchal
religions."

We mused over this. The turmoil that had ensued in the meteor's
aftermath had manifested itself in many ways, none more ironic than the
destruction of men's status in the world's religions. We laughed at how
our plans would tear away at the cant and hypocrisy so tilted against
women in most monotheists' patriarchal religions.

After nearly a year's work we deemed our researches complete. Tests
were run on my mutated sperm. They appeared to be satisfactory and I
anonymously delivered some doctored Caucasian sperm to a large Egyptian
university.

This establishment, like all researchers into the fertility project,
had failed to clear even the first hurdle in manufacturing human sperm.
They had no idea who the donor was but the enormity of the incident
meant that they had to go public.

Other world agencies were informed of the sample and they finally
concluded that they would have to use it in their activities. There was
no other sperm available and the human race was not getting any
younger. Apart from Debbie's daughter, there had been no child born for
nearly four years.

Several hundred volunteer students were made pregnant with the sperm
and their progress carefully monitored. The whole world held its'
breathe as the pregnancies were monitored then finally the nine months
expired, the vast majority of the pregnancies were successful. Despite
the unusual circumstances of the origins of the sperm the authorities
saw little to be gained by conducting extensive tests. All my children
passed the tests and they were declared to be healthy boys and girls.

Only my four friends and I knew the real truth and we weren't talking.
The children were left to reach adulthood under the wings of their
mothers, all of whom were unmarried students.

The world pondered and debated the source of the sperm but we had
prepared well. There was no way it could be traced back genetically to
Bernadette or me.

Our next tactic was to deliver another larger Mongoloid sample to a
Vietnamese university. Here again we achieved exactly the same results.
Some several thousand young students were fertilised by laboratory
techniques and they had the same level of success as their Egyptian
counterparts. Again we succeeded in covering our tracks and managed to
maintain our anonymity.

With a pattern now established we commenced spontaneous deliveries
around the world to various universities and medical institutes. We
made no rules about how the sperm was to be distributed and we made no
announcements about the activities in the press. It would have been
easy to try and enforce some altruistic social and political criterions
about the distribution of the sperm but that might have helped the
authorities to focus their efforts at finding us. Our simple tactic of
turning up out of the blue anywhere in the world kept the whole world
guessing.

It was inevitable that the world authorities and intelligence agencies
would try to find us and we had to become gradually more circumspect as
they doggedly tried to locate us. We realised that, one day, a clever
scientist would eventually make the connection between the still
considerable similarities of my genetic code and the sperm samples.
We could not be certain of having located all the sites where my
genetic information might be stored. Somewhere, a 'stand-alone'
computer might be holding a time bomb.

In any event, when the hermaphrodism bombshell burst after twelve to
fourteen years, someone was certainly bound to make the connection.

Our biggest problem was that we had no way of knowing if, when or where
a connection might be made. If we had been a little wiser and used a
little more foresight we might have seen the trap coming.

It was really my fault and I should have foreseen it but I'm only human
and mistakes will always be made.

I hadn't thought enough about the baby that I had given Debbie. The
subsequent publicity had severely damaged Debbie's life. The
inquisition she had suffered at the hands of the American authorities
and the subsequent glare of publicity had forced her into the unwanted
role of a 'Madonna'. Her anger and fear had driven her into the hands
of an obscure lesbian sect where her resentment about her pregnancy had
become an obsession. In the hands of the sect her problems had been
exaggerated and she had achieved an almost saintly status as sect
members came to pay homage to her and the child. The poor girl achieved
no peace and was subjected to the torture of ritualised worship each
and every day. Furthermore, my daughter by Debbie was being treated
like a second messiah. The main reason being that she had been
conceived 'naturally' as opposed to 'test tube' conceptions.

Debbie's peculiar sexual predilections had become, in some twisted way,
a fundamental component of the sect's worship. Bondage and erotic
piercing had been combined into their ordinary lesbian activities as a
matter of every-day worship.

Within all sects there are various types of people and there is little
connection between intelligence and rationality. Whilst the bulk of the
sect were, to a lesser or greater extent, social inadequates; there
were amongst the masses, some individuals of considerable skill and
talent. Amongst these brighter individuals there were some scientists
and they more or less used the sect as a vehicle for their own
ambitions.

They had gathered enough intelligence to realise that there was a clear
link between the sperm appearing out of nowhere and the appearance of
Debbie's daughter. They concluded that they were of the same father and
therefore Debbie must have been in contact with that father as and when
she conceived.

By carefully backtracking all of Debbie's activities during those
critical days they had managed to establish a vague link with my group
of friends, that is Margaret, Jane, Diana and others who traveled with
me through America.

They had drugged Debbie to help her recall her relationships and she
had helplessly declared all the relationships she had shared. The only
missing link was that Debbie had always assumed that I was a lesbian
with a large clitoris; she had never realised that I was a bilateral
hermaphrodite. The other factor was that I had never actually
penetrated her. It was these anomalies that had deflected the
intelligence agencies.

Suffice to say that some clever minds in the sect had realised that
there was some connection with Debbie's baby and our group. The father,
and therefore the origins of the sperm must be somewhere near my
friends and me. If they could not get at the father, they could at
least capture one of our group and blackmail their way to the source of
the sperm.

Although their reasoning was slightly flawed it was to amount to the
same result. Those that controlled the sperm controlled the world. It
was biological terrorism.