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The Female of the Species
by Otzchiim (otzchiim@aol.com)

***

A research scientist is in the process of taking over 
some of a colleagues case studies and easily the 
thickest of these folders concerned a female child named 
Rita Riley. She had been an ordinary little girl, a bit 
wild but not remarkably so. She was very much of a 
tomboy but only a little more so than her mother had 
been, or so the mother felt. Everything was quite 
prosaic until about eight months after Rita's fifteenth 
birthday. (F/MMMM+, sci-fi)

***

Author's Note: Perhaps I should apologize for not 
actually having the sex described in this story, but it 
did not seem appropriate. 

***

I knew of Dr. Donald Franklin primarily as a colleague 
in the area of infertility treatment. I had met him at 
professional meetings perhaps a half-dozen times in my 
ten years of practice. After his sudden death from a 
massive myocardial infarction, I was asked to take over 
his list of patients as best I could, and also to 
evaluate and prepare for archiving the papers from his 
twenty-five year career in the field.

I discovered that Dr. Franklin had not only kept up with 
the advances in genetic research which are inevitably of 
interest to anyone in our specialty, but that he had 
performed much such research on his own. Many years 
before he had maintained a fair-sized collection of 
animals and his work with them was not duplicated until 
long after, by those whose names are now associated with 
it. Why he had not published was not clear; I could only 
surmise at first that he simply regarded the actual 
preparation of the papers as drudgery. Further study 
suggested another explanation.

One would expect that a physician, especially one 
specializing in such a delicate matter as helping 
infertile couples, would be kindly and sensitive if not 
outright saintly. Probably most are. But there was the 
case of the doctor in Virginia whose administration of 
artificial insemination often used his own sperm in 
place of the husband's. And Dr. Donald Franklin had done 
something which might have been much worse than that, as 
I shall show.

Aside from the expected records of achieved pregnancies 
and births, Dr. Franklin had a special file of detailed 
long-term follow-ups on a dozen children in the 
Baltimore area, all twenty-odd years in the past. Most 
of these were straightforward cases of collecting and 
using the husband's semen but a few involved donations 
from medical students where the husband was sterile.

He explained the follow-ups to the parents as a study of 
all his cases, to determine if the artificial 
insemination affected the health of children in any way. 
By no means all his cases were actually studied, of 
course.

And most of the children represented by the files lived 
less than a year. All these children retained at birth 
the body-hair which ordinarily disappears a few months 
before, but all of them lost it soon afterward. 
Retention of this hair is of course not really an 
abnormal thing, however distressing it may be to new 
parents.

Easily the thickest of these folders concerned a female 
child named Rita Riley. She had been an ordinary little 
girl, a bit wild but not remarkably so. She was very 
much of a tomboy but only a little more so than her 
mother had been, or so the mother felt. Everything was 
quite prosaic until about eight months after Rita's 
fifteenth birthday.

On a Saturday morning in April, someone reported to the 
police hearing voices and noises from a house in the 
Riley's area which had been closed up since the last 
owner died three months before.

The investigating patrolman found the back door forced 
open and slightly ajar. The downstairs was empty, and he 
followed the sound of voices to an upstairs bedroom. 
There he found Rita Riley with eight boys. The policeman 
told her parents that Rita was "pulling a train". They 
did not know the phrase, and soon wished that they had 
not asked for an explanation.

For another year and a half, Rita's parents fought a war 
with her, with long cease-fires. For the spring and 
summer of that year and the next, she would disappear 
from their house and return hours later. Usually she 
would meet boys whom she knew and have violent sex with 
them. But sometimes she would pick men up on the street.

These wild spells lasted only a day or so at a time, and 
then she would be normal and well-behaved again. 
September brought an end to that activity until the 
following spring. Her parents caved in and had birth-
control pills prescribed for her. She was lucky enough 
to avoid venereal disease.

In the second September, Rita went to college but still 
lived at home. In April of her freshman year, she 
vanished completely.

She vanished as far as her parents were concerned, but 
Dr. Franklin found her again. Whether he called in an 
old favor or simply knew someone who could easily get 
the information, he found her within a month. She had 
been picked up thirty miles away in Washington on 
charges of soliciting for prostitution and was 
identified by her fingerprints. She was classed as a 
minor for the vice charges but she was over the age of 
consent, so she was given the benefit of the doubt about 
not informing her parents.

Dr. Franklin contacted her and had extensive interviews 
with her. Whether he became a customer of hers to do so 
(or of his own will, for that matter) cannot be 
determined from the records. It is clear that when she 
had been arrested three times in two days for harassing 
passersby by offering her body, he brought her back to 
Baltimore, took her into his home, and kept her in a 
locked room there.

He repeated this several times over the five years until 
his death, and experimented on her with various drugs to 
ease her through these mental and emotional aberrations. 
The only thing which seemed to have any significant 
effect was a plain strong sedative.

His notes indicate that she used contraceptives 
regularly -- except during these aberrant periods, when 
she could not remember even to take a pill. Despite 
these lapses, she never became pregnant. Or rather, she 
did so repeatedly, but always had a prompt spontaneous 
abortion.

I must admit to being amused at the passing thought that 
this was evidence for the truth of the old joke about 
hereditary sterility, but there is really no possible 
connection between the woman's evident inability to 
carry a child and her father's low sperm count.

The psychological abnormalities seemed to have no proper 
connection to Dr. Franklin's work, past or present, and 
I wondered why he had not long before given over Rita 
Riley's care to an analyst.

The press of business brought on by carrying Dr. 
Franklin's patients in addition to my own kept me from 
gathering the information given above until some months 
after the doctor's death. I had only recently finished 
skimming the file on Rita Riley when I received a 
telephone call from her.

Her voice was hesitant, even timid, and asked in a 
whispered tone if I had been told about her by Dr. 
Franklin. I responded that he had never mentioned her to 
me, but that I had his notes on her and had read them. 
There was a pause, and then she said that I might at 
least know enough to be of some help and she wanted to 
see me soon -- because she felt an interlude coming on.

I was unsure that I could help this woman in any 
substantial way, but I could not in good conscience 
refer her elsewhere without trying to be sure of where 
to send her. Dr. Franklin plainly knew something of the 
problem which he had not written down in anything which 
I had seen, and perhaps an interview and examination 
would provide the missing pieces.

The interview revealed that while Miss Riley was still 
estranged from her parents, she had long ago given up 
the life of a prostitute. She was now employed as an 
office-worker and book-keeper for a temporary staffing 
agency. This, she said, provided her with the 
flexibility which she needed during the spring and early 
summer. I felt this to be a case of healthy adaptation 
to an unhealthy situation.

My physical examination showed that Miss Riley had pubic 
hair which extended above her navel and down to her 
upper thighs. This is uncommon in a woman, though much 
less so in a man, of course. Of more interest was that 
the hair was light in color and straight, also soft to 
the touch.

The external body was otherwise undistinguished. The 
usual oral tests and so forth showed nothing out of the 
ordinary. She seemed more graceful and supple than most 
women of her age, and I must admit thinking that this 
would have been to her advantage when she was working 
the streets.

A gynecological examination (which is within my 
specialty) turned up no clear abnormalities, though I 
felt that something was a little off. I could not decide 
quite what it might be and wrote it off to the after-
effects of some disease contracted during the period of 
prostitution.

Miss Riley explained to me that the late arrival of 
spring this year had given her hope that her cycles of 
strong sexual desire were a thing of the past. But the 
unmistakable signs had begun to appear and she almost 
panicked when she called Dr. Franklin's answering 
service and learned of his death.

She had a normal level of physical desire during the 
rest of the year, and a moderate sexual activity, but 
she had been unwilling to commit to a long-term 
relationship because of those periodic aberrations. 
Also, she had only been able to reach fulfillment at any 
time through masturbation.

Rita had related to Dr. Franklin that the early periods 
of intense sexual activity had been ones of alternation 
between intercourse and masturbation. Dr. Franklin had 
noted that the later ones, in his locked room, had been 
marked by frequent manipulation whenever she returned to 
consciousness.

It is of course true that nymphomania was linked to a 
lack of fulfillment. But this was not quite nymphomania, 
and I had a feeling that there was another factor to be 
weighed in here.

Rita begged me to let her stay in a side room somewhere 
and be sedated through the episode that she was sure was 
coming up. I was sure that this was the wrong answer in 
the long run, but I was also sure that she would leave, 
never to return, if I suggested a mental institution to 
her. And of course she was completely normal now.

My own curiosity tipped the balance. I wanted to observe 
this physical and emotional shift for myself.

My offices have two examination rooms; I normally 
alternate their use, and almost never have both 
occupied. It was only a matter of moments, especially 
with Miss Riley's help, to put a stronger lock on one of 
them. Miss Riley moved in with a cot on Friday morning. 
The change began late Friday afternoon, and from her 
experience it should be over by noon on Monday, perhaps 
earlier.

We were fortunate in this timing, both in that she would 
miss only two days of work and in that there would be a 
minimum of interference with my own practice. I left 
Miss Riley meals and pills at intervals over that 
weekend, and encountered a problem only once.

This was the occasion when I entered the room while she 
was fully awake. She threw back her sheet and implored 
me to make love to her on the floor. If there had been a 
more comfortable place, I probably would have.

A strong musky smell came from her, more discernible and 
erotic from a few feet away than I had ever known it to 
be from the distance usual for OB-GYN work. This was 
stronger than the usual menstrual or unwashed odors, 
both of which I had encountered many times.

I retreated hastily. She fumbled at the door for a 
moment, but gave up. The pills had left enough residue 
to make her weak and loggy.

The advent of Miss Riley had jogged me into examining 
more closely the other files in Dr. Franklin's special 
section. I discovered one folder from a year or so 
before the impregnations which were the subjects of the 
other files, and buried beneath them in the cartons 
which I had been shipped.

I spent that Saturday and Sunday reading this new folder 
and weighing its implications. This answered many 
questions I had, but it raised a host of others.

Dr. Donald Franklin had made a number of lucky guesses 
and gone much further, in terms of numbers, than the 
Human Genome Project had in identifying the locations of 
individual human characteristics. Also of the 
characteristics of felis concolor, the cougar or puma. 
And he had found a way to blend the two selectively.

This animal, he said, had been used over others because 
it had a body-weight roughly comparable to the human.

The reason that Rita Riley underwent these abrupt 
changes is that she was, in some measure, a female cat 
going into heat!

She had returned to normal on Monday morning, but I 
asked her to stay until my patients had left for the 
afternoon. I explained to her then that the reason why 
she had never had a successful pregnancy, would probably 
never have children, was that she was a forced hybrid 
and almost certainly sterile. I told her all that I had 
learned.

Rita sat and thought for a very long time, and then she 
asked me if this was also the reason that she had never 
felt sexually satisfied with a man. I told her that this 
was possible, and that there might have been a genetic 
reason for the gynecological variation which I had 
suspected.

She swallowed hard and asked me then if I were quite 
sure that there were no others like her left alive. I 
began to answer yes, I was certain, but then I recalled 
that I had only found the most important file two days 
before. I could only swear that there was no other large 
file.

At my home we looked through Dr. Franklin's special 
files together. There were fourteen folders in all: 
Rita's, that on the gene identifications and procedures 
for mixing genes, eleven on children who died in 
infancy, and one on a boy named Alexander Morris.

This boy's mother died of cancer when he was eleven; his 
father followed not long after in an auto accident where 
his drinking from grief was involved. Alexander was sent 
to live with an aunt in Omaha, and Dr. Franklin's 
information was very spotty from that point on. It ended 
about six years before, when the boy left home. The aunt 
had no knowledge of his whereabouts. There were no 
reports of any physical or emotional irregularities or 
of difficulties with the police.

Dr. Franklin had reached a dead end here. I felt that I 
had also, but I brooded on it. Three days later I wrote 
the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta. I told them 
that I had taken over the records of Dr. Donald 
Franklin, that there was reason to contact Alexander 
Morris about a possibly life-threatening genetic 
disease, and that he could not be reached at his last 
known address. Almost the truth, as you can see.

They took all the information I had on him, footprints, 
fingerprints, and all. The answer came back that Morris 
had been inducted into the Army at the age of eighteen, 
not long after leaving his aunt. He had been discharged 
across the country four years later, but he was now back 
in his birthplace and working as a martial arts 
instructor. I had not thought to look in the telephone 
directory.

I called Alexander Morris and convinced him with some 
difficulty to come to my office. On the evening of April 
25th, which was a Tuesday, I told him about Dr. 
Franklin's experiments, and that he was one of them. I 
told him about all of his parentage. He took it calmly; 
he was, I found, an almost unnaturally calm person, 
though never totally serious about anything.

I have come to think that this philosophy was necessary 
for his sanity, as well as being absorbed from his 
training in martial arts. His reaction to the news was 
slower than Rita's, though he had the same flowing 
poise. I did not tell him about Rita.

The physical examination showed a pattern of hair 
unusually extensive even for a male. The only clear 
abnormality, however, was the hair on his penis. Unlike 
the rest of his hair, this was stiff and wiry. He 
confessed that the women he had been with had all 
complained about that and his only sexual experience in 
some years was through his hand.

When Alexander Morris left my office, he left me with a 
decision to make. Now that I knew for certain that two 
of Dr. Franklin's induced hybrids had lived to 
adulthood, should I tell them of each other's existence? 
My own perspective as a fertility specialist may have 
colored my feeling here, but could I in good conscience 
do otherwise?

They were almost certainly incapable of having children, 
and indeed they would probably not even be attracted to 
each other -- as any man and woman picked at random 
would not be -- but I owed these two ultimate orphans 
some chance to find happiness together.

I telephoned Rita Riley that night and told her that I 
had found Alexander Morris. I told her that I knew where 
he lived and I asked if she would be interested in 
meeting him, assuming that he was willing. I asked if 
she wanted him even to know that there was another 
surviving experiment.

Rita said that she would be eager for both, and wanted 
to know when this meeting would be.

I replied that she and Mr. Morris would perhaps need 
some time to be prepared for the encounter, and 
therefore I would suggest early Saturday afternoon, at 
my home. Rita paused and said that she thought she could 
hold out that long. I thought that her phrasing was 
intended to be humorous.

I immediately called Alexander Morris, and told him that 
I now had permission to tell him that there was another 
surviving experiment. I told him about Rita Riley, and 
asked if he would want to meet her on Saturday. He 
quickly agreed, but he asked if the three of us could 
meet at his apartment instead. There seemed no reason 
not to go along with this.

The night ended with another call to Rita, to confirm 
the day and time and note the change of location. She 
seemed even happier about that.

Since my home, Rita's apartment, and Mr. Morris's were 
almost in a straight line across the city, I picked up 
Rita at ten minutes to one and arrived at the meeting 
place at one in the afternoon. They seemed awkward and 
uncertain toward each other, which I suppose was 
inevitable.

Rita fidgeted in her chair, as she had on the way over, 
and asked, "Dr. Rubin, both Alex and I had in a way 
three parents each. But I have wondered for the last few 
days, is the total five or six?"

"I have also wondered about that," said Mr. Morris. "Did 
the same cougar provide the genetic material for both of 
us?"

"Why, no," I replied. "Dr. Franklin had twelve cougars, 
and I recall that the only one who was used twice was 
the first one used. That child was a stillbirth, so the 
total would be six parents, so to speak. But I don't see 
how that would matter."

But they had stopped listening to me. After my first two 
words they had begun looking at each other very 
intently. Rita said softly, "I think I'll stay a while."

She opened her legs a bit, where before she had kept 
them close together. The musky smell that I had noted 
three weeks before was back. She was plainly into the 
second day of her estrus.

The effect on Alexander was very strong and immediate. 
When he stood up, I saw that he had an erection, and saw 
also that the stiff hairs on his penis poked through the 
cloth.

He took Rita's hand and mumbled something about 
apologizing for leaving me alone as they went into his 
bedroom. Not long after I heard Rita's repeated shriek 
of satisfaction.

Alexander told me fifteen minutes later that he was 
going to drive Rita home later and that there was no 
reason for me to stay now. I agreed.

That "later" was Sunday afternoon, I learned, when Rita 
had reverted to her more usual pattern. They were 
married as soon as the law allowed. All of Dr. 
Franklin's relevant papers have been passed on to the 
Human Genome Project at Johns Hopkins, with my own 
notes. I did not include the information that Dr. 
Franklin's chief experiments had met, or even their 
correct names. I felt that no purpose could be served by 
invading the privacy of these two innocent people.

That is how I felt at the time. It has been a year since 
the two were introduced, and I have had second thoughts 
brought on by a new problem, or rather a potential 
problem.

I have discovered that I was wrong about the sterility 
resulting from forced hybridization. Rita had triplets 
last night, two boys and a girl. One of them hasn't 
opened his eyes yet.

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
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