On A Sharp Point By Dr

In retrospect, I suppose that I deserved to be captured. I had committed the unpardonable sin, and let my actions fall into a pattern. I’d discovered in my time on the run that the safest area of town for me to set up temporary residence in is what is referred to in colloquial terms as the "wrong side of the tracks." Don’t think so? Consider: the people there are more inclined to mind their own business. Information can be concealed or revealed with appropriate funds - which I have in abundance. And, most peculiar of all, the majority of my patients derive from such humble areas.

Here is where I fell into my pattern. Habitually, I start with the local prostitutes - - by and large, I find willing volunteers the quickest among that segment of the population for some reason - - and quietly let it be known that Dr. Mercurious is in town and eager to make body modifications. I arrange secret drop-offs for contact information, and then sit back and wait. I tend not to have to wait long; the press has been obliging in its granting me free publicity with its "Mercurious-Watch" and posting my various experiments. I’m sure the authorities are still gnashing their teeth over the fact that when interviewed, my ‘victims’ are all happy with their new bodies and lavish in their praise of my procedures, but I digress. This was the pattern I had followed in New York, Chicago, and Seattle; I saw no reason for it not to work in Pittsburgh. Foolish. Fortunately, providence lent me a hand....and gave my pursuers the finger.

A knock sounded on my hotel door the day after my arrival - - around 9:30 PM on a Friday, if memory serves. Peering through the door’s peephole revealed a young woman dressed in an outfit that screamed "lady of the evening" with its micro-miniskirt, crippling high heels and bra top. Having booked no appointments yet, I decided to pretend I wasn’t in the room. She decided to KEEP knocking until someone answered. Not wanting to attract any more attention, I cracked the door open slightly. "Yes?" I said, still not having any idea how to handle this. I’d dressed in a leather jacket and well-worn clothing, completing the effect with dark sunglasses.

She favored me with a very sweet, sexy smile. "You’re a contact point for the Doc?" I nodded, but didn’t open the door wider. She continued the smile and hissed out, "tell him he’s been made." I cursed softly and opened the door so she could come in. She sat down on the bed and eyed me appraisingly. "You’re not local," she said, looking at me curiously. "Got permission from Charley to work here?"

Her comment was directed at the way I currently appeared, and I am not merely referring to my outfit. I have long since taken advantage of the fact that my formula can change appearances to the point of increasing body mass, and have a number of what I call "disguise injections" made up in advance. This current body was quite different from my 5-foot, 9 inch frame: Blond hair and clean-shaven instead of my normal raven coiffure and facial hair, and over six feet of muscle. I’d carefully chosen the features to give the impression of stupidity.

"I’m cool with the man," I said, hoping that I had gotten the slang right; unfortunately my acting skills needed practicing. "You say Doc’s busted?"

"Yeah, his drop-box got raided. They got someone, think it’s him."

I sighed inwardly; that was a relief. It would give me extra hours to formulate an escape plan. Then I considered something, "Uh, listen, miss...?"

She smiled at me coyly "Lisa."

I nodded politely, "Lisa. What makes them think this person is the good Doctor?"

The girl leaned back on the bed and smirked. "Got a buddy on the force -- told him it was you. He even looks like you, a little; local drug dealer, works the high school."

I smiled; I had to appreciate her sense of justice. "Mmm, yes, I’m sure the Doc will approve." Then I ran Lisa’s last statement by mentally again and gave her a questioning look.

She looked back at me impishly. "Don’t bother denying it. I don’t care WHAT you look like, you’re the infamous Doctor Mercurious Prosperpo. Word to the wise: if you’re gonna look like a bruiser you gotta talk like one, too."

I saw no point in wasting time with falsehoods. "Might I say that you have an uncanny intellect, my dear?"

"You may," she said, eyes twinkling.

This time it was my turn to surprise her. "Your timely warning gives me ample opportunity to lie low from the authorities including however long it takes to alter you. What’s the most inconspicuous way out of town?"

She looked thoughtful. "Well, there’s the D-Line on 1st street, that’ll take you to the Peter Pan station and -" she stopped in mid sentence and gaped at me.

I produced a piece of paper with a flourish. "’Lovely Lisa’, works the Store-24 area," I said. "Request for modification: an additional pair of breasts, arms, legs and an additional head." I raised my eyebrows. "Full works, eh?"

She nodded, continuing to gape.

I smiled. "Joe Quig was my contact. He gave me your request as soon as we had ‘arranged’ a few things. He threatened me if I didn’t treat you gently. I was about to leave and set up your appointment"

She shook her head, smiling fondly. "That sweet lug."

"I must admit to being surprised. Usually I don’t get a request so quickly."

"No accident there, Doc," Lisa told me. "I’ve been fantasizing about this ever since news got around you weren’t an urban legend. You don’t haveta worry about money either; whatever it costs, I’ll pay it."

I frowned at her. "Cost? Who said I charge?"

She sat bolt upright on the bed "WHAT?"

"First of all," I said, "my alteration chemical is viral and self-replicating; I can produce more by literally feeding it protein. Second of all, the only other ingredients I need will be provided by you - some blood and saliva for a good genetic sample. It takes very little time and effort to concoct the shots I will give you to effect the transformation. Patient recovery is where my true lag-time occurs." I frowned. "I hope no one’s told you that I charge a fee for this."

"Well...I mean....I assumed...," she stammered, them gained control of herself. "I mean, why else would you be doing this if not for the money?"

"Dreams," I said. Linda looked puzzled. I sighed and said. "When I look at the world, I see people forgetting how to dream. All too often they put their desires and fantasies away for keeps, to forget them for the most part; I have even heard people ridicule the fact that they ever had them. It is even considered a sign of maturity to ‘grow up’ and stop fantasizing altogether I don’t know that what I do can combat such an evil, but I intend to try -- to let people know that there is at least one person out there granting dreams."

I was not expecting Linda to understand. I had told others before this and gotten people who thought they understood, but really didn’t. It was the look in her eyes that told me otherwise.

"I dreamed of this," she whispered softly.

Now it was my turn to look confused. "Pardon?"

"When I was young," Linda continued in that same, soft voice, "I dreamed of being noticed. You wouldn't know to look at me now but I was a mousy little skinny thing, shy, from a poor family; I couldn’t afford the name-brands necessary to be popular. Mom was a truck-stop waitress working 24-7 and Dad was a trucker; I didn’t see either one a lot. My Grandma used to watch me, an’ I guess I had her ‘till she died when I was 14, if you count a half-blind senile old lady as company. No one really had any time for me, and I figured that to get noticed I’d have to give ‘em something that they couldn’t overlook. At first, I decided to act up, get noticed that way. Didn’t work, of course, except for the teachers; they noticed me real quick. So, when I hit high school I decided to put out -- become the school bike, so to speak.. All it gave me was got a rep for being’ easy and my hard-line Catholic school expelled me for being a bad influence. ‘Course the boys who did me stayed in, but that’s beside the point. So here I am, no skills or family to help me out; naturally I drift into the world’s oldest profession. I get lucky, I admit it; I landed Joe Quig who treats his girls real decent and is a nice guy overall. He set us up in an apartment complex, pays us well, whole nine yards. I got some friends, regular clients, life’s good right?"

"Thing is, I’m still faceless. Nobody really notices me, I’m Lovely Lisa, cute and perky. My regulars would just go to another whore if I turned up dead. None of my so-called buds would miss me save Joe; even he wouldn’t mourn long, can’t if you’re in the life. Then one day my roommate gets a computer and starts surfing the Net with it. I don’t know where she found it, but she downloaded a picture of this real sexy girl dressed in panties with four breasts and arms. She called it a ‘morph’ or something like that. To me, it was heaven. If I looked like that, hell, everyone would have to notice me, pay me attention, y’know? I wouldn’t be a nothing, a nobody. I knew it never happened, but I could dream. And then, one day, one of your patients appears on the tube. Karen."

I smiled nostalgically. "Ah, yes. An additional pair of breasts and another head. She was so pleased I thought she would burst into tears."

"Uh huh. For a while I hated you, you know."

I must have looked startled. "I beg your pardon again?"

This time there were tears in her eyes. "I knew - just knew - that there was no fucking way I’d be able to afford it, that you’d never come my way; lotsa things that’d keep you from getting to me. When you miss that brass ring often enough you think that something will always come to snatch it from you."

I sat down next to her and offered her my handkerchief which she graciously accepted. "Even if I didn’t have time for your treatment,, I’d make time."

She gave me a searching gaze. "You’re one of a kind, you know that?"

I smiled, patted her hand. "I doubt that. But I am in your debt. They would’ve caught me for sure without you. You have my word -- anything I can do to repay you, I will. Just name it."

Lisa looked thoughtful. "Can I get back to you on that?"

I shrugged. "Certainly." I then proceeded to collect the genetic samples needed from her - she complimented me on my skills with a needle - and had her disrobe while I prepared the vials. When she saw me with the anesthetic she said. "Hold up, doc. What’s that?"

"The anesthetic, of course. Don’t worry, its quite safe."

"But I want to be awake, to feel myself change."

Now that was an unusual request, one I didn’t feel comfortable complying with. "Personally, I think it would be safer if..."

"No," she cut me off.

I stared at her lovely nude form in puzzlement. "No?"

"Nope. Call it repaying the favor."

It was about then that it finally dawned on me the error I’ve made. "Really, I..."

"Nope."

"But..."

"Uh-uh."

"Surely..."

"NO."

I tried to play dirty. "If that is the case, I’ll have to tie you up. When you grow the additional anatomy there may be involuntary muscle contractions that do you injury." This wasn’t the case, of course, but any lie to spare her the intense pain that I knew she would go through.

The sneaky, dirty-playing little mendicant said, "Fine by me. Where do you plan on getting the rope?"

I conceded defeat. "The bed sheets, I suppose."

I injected her with the syringes - one for each additional breast, limb and the final one for the additional head. I must admit she is a hardy sort; not even the big needle which I must use to insure the additional head will root properly caused more than a mild whimper. I give her my hand to hold and she took it.

A strange look appeared on Lisa’s face. "Doc, I think its happening."

I am not surprised. "The transformation occurs quickly when my patient is healthy." If someone else were watching the process on film, they would rave about the special effect knowledge required to achieve a similar result that could only exist on celluloid. Perhaps now you can understand why, no matter how many alterations I do, a sense of wonder and awe always fills me.

First, dark spots appeared on her ribcage about two inches below her bustline. Her breath hissed as they swelled, thrusting outward. They migrated upward slightly and became twins of her own D-cup breasts.

"Oh god, " Lisa moaned, "that felt....god, that felt sooo good..."

"You joke," I insist. "Growing a nerve should be agony."

"Well, you tech types got it wr...wrong," she gasped. "Mmmh, here comes my new arms, I think."

I did not let go of her hand as, slowly, two stick-like protrusions began to sprout below and behind her top set of arms, one for each side. Her grip tightened, but not in the excess of pain. Despite all scientific theory to the contrary, Lisa did seem to be experiencing pleasure from her transformation. She began to moan with such intensity that I considered leaving the room to afford her privacy.

"Untie me," she panted as the sticks grew a small knob at the end, began to lengthen and fill out.

I fretted, "I...nothing is happening as it should..."

"Please, Doc?"

That one phrase had so much passion in it, how could I refuse? Yes, yes, I have been told that when it comes to women I am far too much of a gentleman. All I can say in my defense is that I have never heard one female complain about the way I treat them, which to my mind is the important thing. By the time I was finished, her arms had fully developed and now her hips were widening, growing sticks of her own. I blushed as I smelled the obvious signs of her arousal; I suppose that is what made me finally decide to believe her. The only other explanation, a taste for violence in the bedchamber, would have revealed itself in scars and old bruises on her body which was bereft of either.

I got up to go to the bathroom, to give her privacy during such an intimate moment, but she thrust out both left hands in a beckoning gesture . "Donnnn....don’t move, yu....youuu.."

"Lisa..."

"No. Please, it’s....ah GOD, yes...," she groaned as her second set of legs finished fleshing out. "Ahhhmmm... It’s OK, I WANT you to...just ke-heep holding my hand...."

I sat back down at her side and wordlessly held out my hand, which she took in her two rights.

"Thank you for sharing this private moment with me," I murmured to her.

"N-n-n-ooo," she moaned; I could see the bud that would be her second head begin to form. "Thnak you for making my dreams real."

Then she was rendered incapable of speech as waves of what I deduced to be one impressive orgasm began to build, increasing in intensity as the bud began to grow and develop features. Her four arms were everywhere; caressing her body, breasts, vagina, anything they could reach on her body. Her shoulders widening to accommodate the fast-forming neck almost ended her pleasure but she held on with magnificent control. I understood; she was deliberately holding the release of her pleasure until her second head had finished forming and was aware enough for it to register. For the rest of my days, I will never forget the feeling when, fully formed, Lisa’s right head opened its eyes as the other gasped and keened in anticipation of ecstasy. It- she - turned to look at me and smile. I returned the smile, "Happy birthday, my dear."

I am sure that she would’ve thanked me, but at the moment their body came and her first words were lost joining her sister in a scream of indescribable pleasure.

Fortunately, I had long since taken to carrying sets of sweat pants and shirts as well as a pair of scissors so my patients will have something to wear afterwards. "What will the you do now?"

The two of them had been chattering at each other almost nonstop, delighting in their shared memories. They stopped at my question, gave each other a thoughtful, sidelong look. Their top set of arms folded, the bottom set already resting comfortably on the bed. Their middle legs were crossed at the ankles.

"We hadn’t really talked much about it," said the head on the right.

"We could always become an exotic dancer," said the one on the left.

"I think we’re gonna have to practice walking some more first," Right rejoined.

"I believe that I agree with her," I said, indicating Right. "Adapting to a second set of legs is always harder than another pair of arms. Center of gravity, and all that." Actually, they seemed to be adapting very well to their radically altered center of gravity, but I chalked that up to their being physically fit.

"Why do you want to know?" Left said, one eyebrow upraised.

"Just curious. I like to know that my patients will be able to fend for themselves in the future."

"Doc," Right said, "we’ll have dancing jobs lined out the door; kink is in these days."

"You said it, ‘sis’," Left rejoined.

"Good." I turned and began to pack. "Now if you two will excuse me, I must pack. I hate to transform and run, but I doubt your red herring will occupy the attention of the authorities long."

Twin giggles sounded behind me. "Oh, I think there’s still some time."

I turned to ask, "for what?" but it was clearly evident what they had in mind. They’d risen off the bed and let the blanket they’d wrapped their body in fall, to reveal their muliplicitous glory. Both pairs of breasts stood at attention as they slowly sashayed towards me, graceful despite their second set of legs. Their bottom arms hung at their sides as they gave their breasts a caress with the top set. I found it very hard to speak or even move as they pressed close to me. My valiant attempt was cut off as the top right hand silenced me by putting a finger to my lips.

"Don’t you dare say anything you horrible, wonderful man," Right said with a tender smile.

Left mirrored her sister’s smile but it seemed to be tinged with sadness. "You run a lot Doc. You give dreams, and all you get is a thank you and a quick exit before the man comes down. We just want to thank you properly. Think of it as paying back the favor you owe us."

A part of me, very feebly, tried to protest that the favor had already been paid. As their arms slid around me, their top set of legs hugged me and my neck was nibbled on both sides at once, I told that part with great satisfaction to shut up.