Excerpt from Chapter Twenty Two

Timing was everything. We had to coordinate two very unpredictable events: the occurrence of a thunderstorm, and the melting of ice.

The barometer outside the dwelling which housed M. Krempe's laboratory indicated to us that the pressure was rising. This was good. We all felt the approach of the storm. In lieu of its arrival, we brought our frozen vixen up from the cool basement where she had been stored in her ice sarcophagus. We had naturally begun talking about her as 'she', perhaps because of the face, although that was not a very scientific stance, as the professor was quick to point out. She was composed of the female parts, it was true, and those of her male twin, plus bits and pieces from the cadavers of strangers. And then there was the metal plate at the base of her brain. Still, we mere humans do tend to personify, and whatever our creation was, she became a 'she' to us.

The ice was melting nicely, on schedule with what we felt was a general stifling of the air, and intense humidity.

We brought Crea, for this is the name Henry came up with, and one which suited our new being better than the awful name of creature, out to the woods behind the house. The ice surrounding her was now just a thin coating, allowing a good view of her lovely face, with those startling eyes of different colors. She was naked, exposing the buttocks, breasts and vulva of a woman, and the broad shoulders and enormous penis and testicles we'd severed from the brother, who, apparently, had been a renowned fighter who had fought one too many rounds. Strangers had contributed the odd internal organ, and the feet, for the blood congealing there had ruined those of the twins. The stitching was nearly invisible, although on either side of the throat one could see stitch marks from the large opening where the professor and I had installed the metal disc in back.

Henry, bless him, had devised a kite-like apparatus, with wires attached to a tree. To this we bound Crea about the waist, shoulders and forehead, her arms behind the trunk and her legs wide with that delightful cock thrusting forward and her cherry nether lips spread. The thin coating of ice only added to her charms in the moonlight, covering the firm nipples with a slick, come-hither glaze, and the double genitalia with moisture.

We waited, each of us nervous, pale. Over the several months of our project, we had neither time for much sleep nor food and each of us had grown thin and pallid. This was apparent to me as I looked at my co-conspirators, now pensive.

Our main worry was that the ice would melt too quickly, before the storm arrived, and there would be decaying flesh bound to the tree and nothing more. And then there was the grim possibility that the storm would pass us by. But beyond that lay our main fear--that we had come so far only to fail. That even if all the ingredients were right, the corpse would not revive, and we would be back where we began.

I confess that over the months of building Crea, muscle by muscle, stretching skin taut where it should be taut, moulding and shaping her to the image in my mind, I had come to think of her as a new species. I had no doubt that on awakening, she would be happy and excited and grateful to me. I expected her worship even, bowing on knee before her master and creator.

The storm did not pass us by, but arrived quickly, and it was violent. We were instantly drenched in the chilly fierce rain. The winds were gale force, shaking the leaves of the trees, and snapping branches. Thunder broke and lightning lit the sky. Henry had attached his kite to Crea and run the wires up the tree, awaiting a bolt of lightning.

She stood, completely thawed now, slick with rainwater, her bare feet, or at least those of her donor, planted firmly on the ground, passively beckoning a miracle. In the silvery moonlight, as the lightning lit her flesh, I found myself become erect in anticipation.

The storm was at its zenith and would, from this point on, dissipate. But for the moment, lightning struck all around us. Trees. Shrubs. The house itself, deflected by the lightning rod. Time was running out. I wondered if that rod would have been a better attractor, and was about to voice my concerns, although there was nothing we could do about it now.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. I pushed my way against the strong winds to Crea's form, bound securely to the tree. "What are you doing?" M. Krempe called, but I ignored him. Instinctively I disconnected the wires attached to the tree and fixed them securely one each to her nipples, one to her clitoris and one to her erect cock. The last I placed at the back of her skull, where the metal plate lay just inside the skin.

Suddenly the kite flapping in the wind above and the tree was struck. I shielded my eyes from the pouring rain and the illumination. The electrical energy travelled down the wires in a second. Crea's body was lit by the power. She jerked and trembled, her limbs flailing, hips thrusting hard. Her torso convulsed as in an unearthly orgasm while Zeus' rod of supreme power rode her body.

It seemed to last forever, and yet I knew that only moments had passed. And when the lightning bolt finally settled into the ground, all came to a stop. It was as though the storm itself had come here for this purpose and now that it had completed its task, departed.

The rains slowed to a trickle. The thunder and lightning were in the distance now. In the near darkness, we brought our lamps closer to Crea to see what, if anything, had transpired.

Each of us waited for our submissive creature to show signs of life.

"Crea, can you hear me?" Henry said. The plea in his voice was painful, for it reflected what we all felt.

"You must come forward," I said, my voice a bit firmer.

"Open your eyes!" the professor demanded, his tone harsh and filled with implied consequences.

Suddenly her eyes flashed open. The two colors were eerie to gaze at in the lamplight, now that a spark of life glinted behind those pupils.

She opened her luscious mouth tentatively, then grew bolder. "Master!" she said, looking at M. Krempe.

Demurely she turned to Henry and said again the word, "Master!", this time with a more alluring tone to her voice.

Finally those eyes rested upon mine. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth and ran slowly across her bottom lip. Restrained though she was by the ropes, she thrust her titties out at me and said wantonly, in a deep, throaty almost male voice, "Master!"

A cry of victory rose from the three of us. We had succeeded. And now it was time to enjoy the fruits of our labor.