Emmanuel's Seed

Not knowing what that might entail, and having been taught by her mother to avoid "official people" at all costs, the girl hitchhiked West on Interstate 10, eventually ending up in Santa Monica, California. In Topanga Canyon Village, she had met a boy who was searching for his escaped Labrador retriever; when the pair found the dog, the boy introduced the girl to his "family." She wasn't sure that all the people were related to each other, but they nevertheless called themselves a "family." She traveled up the Coast with the family, spending a couple of years at the family's "farm" in Oregon, which they called "Homestead." It wasn't a farm at all, she told Bonnie; they just liked to call it that. By the time she had turned seventeen, Verna Osckay, the "spiritual leader" of Homestead, told Blonde Girl that the girl was to "marry" Verna's son, Barkley, who was forty years old and retarded. That night, Blonde Girl quietly packed her belongings and hitchhiked to Los Angeles, where she lived at Brother Normy's Mission, earning her keep by washing dishes and making the lunchtime sandwiches.

Bonnie discovered that Blonde Girl slept best when they cuddled and slept like spoons in a drawer, with Bonnie's arms holding the girl close to her bosom. The first night they had slept together, Bonnie was both touched and amused to see that Blonde Girl sucked her thumb when she slept. Bonnie found the girl adorable.

After about a week, Bonnie took Blonde Girl with her to visit Emmanuel in his room. The three of them chatted pleasantly for a while, as Bonnie studied Emmanuel's reaction to Blonde Girl. She seemed to arouse him noticeably. Whenever Bonnie and Blonde Girl walked around the complex, Bonnie allowed the girl to wear a pair of white shorts and a tube top, rather than one of the otherwise mandatory green examination gowns.

Bonnie had taken the girl with her to visit Emmanuel several more times the following week. On their final visit, Bonnie had told Blonde Girl to remove all of the eucalyptus oil lamps from Emmanuel's quarters. When he heard that, Emmanuel raised one eyebrow and stared at Bonnie with an inquisitive look. Bonnie instructed the girl to take the lamps back to the kitchen area and prepare a can of tuna for the two of them. With the girl out of the room, she told Emmanuel that he would have a couple of nights without the eucalyptus oil and then he would be brought back to the stage to be harvested again. Emmanuel stared at Bonnie for a while, then asked if Blonde Girl was going to be the one chosen to "help" him.

"Yes, I have selected her for our next volunteer, Emmanuel, but the rules have changed. You may torture her all you want, but you are not to cut her or damage her in any way."

"Okay, but do I get to fuck her?" he asked with all the innocence of a boy.

"Sure!" Bonnie replied cheerfully.

"Alright. Here's the deal," Emmanuel offered, "If I agree not to cut her, strangle her, or really damage her, will you keep the guy with the tranquilizer gun away?"

"No, he will be there watching you, but if you act properly, he will not shoot you with the dart."

"Good," Emmanuel sighed. The last time I had a splitting headache for two days and my eyes were super-light-sensitive."

Two days later, after lunch, Bonnie and Blonde Girl made love in Bonnie's bedroom and then the two of them cuddled and slept. "I think I love you, Dr. Dancer," Blond Girl said sheepishly, "I really do."

"I know Sweetie, I love you too." They fell back to sleep in each other's embrace and did not wake for hours.

They slept until Bonnie's cell phone rang. It was Kevin. Dancer went into the bathroom to take the call. Kevin told her that his plane had landed earlier that day at Las Vegas, he and Karen had rented a car, and were headed toward the compound.

"Do you think Karen Kraft would enjoy watching the harvesting tonight?" Bonnie asked Kevin.

"Oh, God, no!" Kevin blurted, almost awakening Karen from her slumber in the passenger seat.

"Alright, then. You should stay at the motel outside Area 51 until dawn."

"That's fine. We will do that."

"You fucking Karen?"

"Not right now, Bonnie. I could wake her up and have her give me some fine desert road head while we chat if you want."

"Very funny," Bonnie said sarcastically, completely unamused.

"We will wait until we get to the motel to start the fucking in earnest." Kevin continued, not realizing that Bonnie had already snapped her cell phone shut.

Once the Green Room was prepared, Bonnie took Blonde Girl by the hand and led her down the hall, through the green door, and around the corner to the stage area.

"What's this place, Dr. Dancer?" Blonde Girl asked, searching Bonnie's face with her innocent and trusting gaze.

"It's the center of The Project, Sweetie," Bonnie told the girl, "It's where I do my work. It's why we are all here."

"Wow, this is really cool," gushed the girl.

"I'm glad you like it, dear; want to see how it works?"

"Sure! I'd love it!" giggled Blonde Girl.

Dancer removed the green cover from the table and pulled out the arm and leg extensions. Then, patting its padded leather surface, she told the girl to hop onto the table and lean all the way back. Blond Girl quickly spread herself out on the table and stretched her arms and leg out as far as they would go. In the shadows at the far end of the room, the other people remained silent and motionless, watching Dancer work.

She put the girl's wrists and ankles in the snap-sleeves, and kissed her passionately on the lips, pushing her tongue in and out of the girl's mouth, stroking her bare midriff with her fingernails. Dancer walked over to the instrument table and selected a pair of 5 ½ inch chrome bandage scissors and cut the front of Blonde Girl's yellow tube top and pulled it off the girl, tossing it onto the floor.

"Wow, Dr. Dancer," Blonde Girl said, showing some signs of confusion, "This is what you do for your work?"

"This is how it starts. Soon we will be joined by another. Just relax now, okay?"

"Another?" asked the girl, "Who?"

"Emmanuel."

"The guy with the oil lamps, right?

"Yup; the very one."

The girl was startled by the voice from the overhead speakers: "Dr. Dancer, will you be wanting the medication now?"

"Yes, Gabe, and I will give it to her. But we will skip the movie this time."

Dancer took the prepared hypodermic syringe and gently injected it into Blonde Girl's immobilized left arm.

"All set, ma'am. Just let me know when you're ready."

Dance walked over to the instrument table and removed several of the tools and straightened the remaining ones in neat rows. She picked up the cattle prod, pressed it's button and tapped the silver-tipped bright red horns to the palm of her hand.

"Gabe?" Dancer called out into the darkness, "These rechargeable batteries just don't do the trick; can we have six fresh regular batteries, please?"

"Yes ma'am."

The lights went up to full power as Gabe walked out of the shadows, holding three unopened packages of batteries. Gabe and Dancer ripped open the packages and placed the fresh batteries into the handle of the prod. Dancer inspected the device carefully and then pressed the button and slapped Gabe's forearm with the prod. He yelped in pain and gave Dancer a hurt look, but said nothing. Snorts and giggles came from the rest of the "harvest team," back in the shadows of the room.

"Gabe?" Dancer called out once again.

"Yes, ma'am?" Gave answered.

"Do we have two of these?"

"Yes, ma'am. You want to use the battery packs or put ..."

"No, Gabe, put in regular batteries, not rechargeable, and bring it down, please."

Blonde Girl was watching all this but did not say anything. Eventually, she said, "Pssst, Bonnie! Come here a second, okay?" Dancer walked over to the table and put her head down near the girl's face to hear what she wanted to whisper to her.

"Who are those other people I hear? They can all see me like this! Is that okay?"

"Yes, dear," Bonnie said reassuringly, "we are all professionals here. It's just fine."

Dancer picked up the scissors again and cut away the girl's shorts. She bent down and cranked the leg extension adjustment wheel until the girl's legs were spread nearly 180 degrees.

Gabe came running onto the stage and gave Dancer the second cattle prod; she placed it on the instrument table and inspected things one last time before leaving the stage. Gabe looked around the room to see if everything was in place, and then walked to the bottom end of the table.

"Hello there!" he said to Blond Girl, "How we doin'?" Blond Girl became uneasy as Gabe admired her exposed genitalia. She yanked on her restraints as Gabe smoothed the girl's pubic hair to each side of her labia with his thumbs. She twitched and tried to pull herself free, to no avail. "You look very pretty like this."

"Dr. Dancer?" Blonde Girl called out, a quiver of worry and fear causing her voice to crack. "Dr. Dancer?" she called out again.

"I'm here, Sweetie," Dancer said, but her voice came over the speakers.

"Okay, everybody!" Gabe hollered, "Show time!" Gabe jogged off the stage and joined the others in the safe room, back in the shadows. Even more lights came on. "Here we go!" Gabe shouted.

Emmanuel came out and stared at the girl on the table for a moment. Then he walked over to the glassed-in theater area and saw that it was empty. Returning to the table, placed himself between the girl's outstretched legs as he rested his elbows on the edge of the table, on each side of the girls rib cage. Her midsection was quickly moving up and down as she panted in terror, feeling the first effects of the Torcain^® injection. Leaning forward, he asked Blonde Girl if she was a virgin. Her eyes wide with panic, she started sobbing but managed to squeak out a "Yes."

Emmanuel went over to the instrument table and selected two bright blue plastic four-inch T-Clamps, then returned to the table to place one on each of the girls nipples. She began screaming and writhing around as he pulled on them a couple of times and twisted them from side to side. Emmanuel could feel himself starting to get hard as he watched her jerk and buck from both the fear and the pain. "Oh, you are a good one!" he growled, in a voice that sent shivers even down Bonnie Dancer's spine.

He picked up the two cattle prods and, holding one in each hand, walked around and around the table, poking the girl in nearly every part of her body. He removed the T-Clamps so he could get better access to her nipples. He worked her belly button ring and nipples for a long time, and then directed his attention to her groin area.

Blond Girl could only hiss at this point as she rolled her head from side to side desperately trying to break free. When he was fully erect, Emmanuel entered her with a single swift thrust. Blond Girl screamed and screamed as he roughly thrust himself in and out of her, continuing to hit her neck and breasts with the cattle prods. It took him a long time to climax, and by the time he did, Blonde Girl was delirious, her mouth opening and closing like a fish dying on the wooden planks of a fishing pier.

Suddenly, the room was filled with a fine mist of eucalyptus fog, and Emmanuel dropped the cattle prods and wandered deliriously back toward his room. Once he had cleared the giant double doors, they snapped shut and the entire crew came onto the stage to start the clean up. Rachel and Rebecca, accompanied by two guards, went into Emmanuel's room to make the blood harvest.

Blonde Girl was unable to walk, so Gabe carried her down the hall to Dancer's room, where he gently placed her on the bed an covered her with the soft white blankets. Blond Girl looked at Gabe and blinked.

"You did really well, dear," Gabe said, feeling quite paternal.

Dancer was ecstatic with the success of the evening and gave Gabe a big bear hug as he left her quarters. She stripped down and climbed into bed, holding the shaking and whimpering girl close to her. As she tightened her loving embrace, Blond Girl started to cry. "There there, Sweetie. It's okay. It's all over now. You did a super job. What a good girl you are!"

Blond Girl rolled over to face Bonnie and buried herself in Dancer's chest.

Two hours later, Dancer was awakened by her phone ringing. "This is the lab."

"Yes?" Dancer replied, "How did we do with the new procedure?"

"Great, Dr. Dancer! Just great!" the technician told her, "We centrifuged the blood to get the plasma out and mixed Emmanuel's blood cells with saline and put them back into him; the plasma has all the attributes of the whole blood samples!"

"Christ! That IS great news!" Dancer gushed, "So we can do the harvest with the same girl every two weeks, right? Have your analysis and report on my desk by ten, okay?"

"Sure thing, Dr. Dancer. Oh, and congratulations!"

"Thanks." Dancer flipped her phone shut and snuggled closer to Blond Girl, who was fast asleep, sucking her thumb.

When Blonde Girl woke up, she could hear water splashing about as Bonnie took her morning shower. Blonde Girl through off the blanket and top sheet and inspected her body. There were a few marks here and there and some very minor bruising around her wrists and angles from the snap-collar restraints. Her belly button ring was sensitive to the touch but the girl decided not to take it out. She placed her fingers flat against her chest and made a few circular motions and decided that, although they were a bit sore, her nipples seemed okay. Her inspection complete, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom, and sat on the toilet, which faced the glass shower door. As she peed, she watched Bonnie rinse the shampoo out of her hair and apply some conditioner. The girl thought of Dancer as a mother figure and felt guilty that she had let the woman down in some way.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Dancer," Blonde Girl whimpered as she peed, "I'm sorry I let you down last night."

"Wait a minute, I can't here you with the water." Dancer rinsed the conditioner from her hair and reached over for a towel. She briefly damp-dried her hair and made a turban-wrap. Having finished peeing, Blonde Girl flushed the toilet, but continued to sit there.

"What were you saying, Sweetie?"

"That I am sorry that I was bad last night, Dr. Dancer, I know that that guy is your friend and he's like some sort of special rich guy or something and everybody has been so nice to me here and ..."

"Don't worry about it," Dancer laughed. "You know that, from all the girls we could have chosen to help me in my work, I chose you. You will do much better next time."

"Next time?" Blonde Girl asked, very quietly, trying to control the catch in her voice.

"Yes, dear," Dancer said cheerfully standing directly in front of Blonde Girl, looking down at her angelic face, "Every two weeks, for about a year or so."

Blonde Girl shuttered and she could feel tears welling up in her eyes but looked down, so as not to disappoint Dancer. Bonnie took a step forward and straddled the girl as she sat on the toilet. "You know you can be taken back to Los Angeles anytime you want."

"I don't know what to do," Blonde Girl started to weep. "Tell me what to do."

"I love you, Sweetie; you're my best girl!"

Blonde Girl stopped weeping. Dancer took the towel from her head and raised the girl's chin to see her face. "You are a lovely child," Dancer said, looking down at the girl's tear-filled eyes. She took another step forward, placed her left hand under the Blonde Girl's chin, her thumb and index finger just behind her jawbone and guided the girl's face into the woman's groin, gently moving her jaw into the right position. Dancer leaned forward a bit, now straddling the girl's upturned face. After several seconds, the girl's tongue finally emerged and went to work. Blonde Girl was happy; knew she was forgiven.

8- After responding to several phone calls, reviewing some spreadsheets, and filling out some government forms, Dancer returned to her quarters and told Blonde Girl to get ready for a swim. The girl withdrew a fresh examination gown from what had become "her drawer," but Dancer said, "Wait, Sweetie, I have a present for you."

Blonde Girl had never received a present in her life. Well, actually, her mother would give her presents, but they were always things like pretty pinecones or sea shells, never anything store-bought. Dancer produced a small gift bag and handed to the girl.

"You bought this for me?" the girl said, starting to fall apart again.

"Open it," Dancer grinned. Inside was a blue and orange print bikini. "From now on, when we go to the pool, you will wear a swimsuit."

"Oh, Dr. Dancer!"

"Sweetie," Dancer smiled, "I think you can call me Bonnie when we are alone together, okay?" With that, Blonde Girl totally broke down and, wrapping her arms around Dancer and sobbed.

"You are so wonderful to me! Nobody has ever ..."

"Hush, now, Sweetie," Dancer soothed, "We don't want the others to see that this pretty little face of yours has been crying; let's go."

When they got to the pool area, they saw that Karen Kraft and Kevin Stature were lying on a couple of lounges, wearing swim suits. When Bonnie and Blonde Girl passed through the gate, Kevin stood up and smiled at the approaching pair. Karen shielded her eyes and examined the two as they walked toward them.

"Kevin, Karen, I would like you to meet Blonde Girl; she is my special assistant," Dancer presented. Blonde Girl looked up at Bonnie, surprised to hear that her title was now "special assistant."

"Nice to meet you, Blonde Girl," Kevin and Karen said, more or less in unison.

Karen figured the girl was about fifteen years old, obviously not Dancer's daughter, and too young to be a Project employee. She thought the girl had a fine looking body but could use some breasts. She watched the girl's eyes carefully to see how she looked at Kevin. As the girls eyes went from Kevin's eyes to his chest and then to his groin, Karen spoke. "What does a special assistant do around here, Blonde Girl?" Karen asked, distracting the girl from Kevin for the moment as she focused on Karen's question. Kevin was gulping down his diet Pepsi.

"Well, last night I helped with the harvesting!"

Kevin choked on his Pepsi, which came dribbling out his nostrils. "Shit, I hate it when that happens," he covered. When he had regained his composure, he stared at Dancer, looking for some validation of what the girl had said.

"That's right, Sweetie," Dancer said to Blonde Girl, actually directing her comment to respond the Kevin's look of dismay. "And you did an excellent job; you were perfect!"

Blonde Girl beamed with pride, clasping her hands behind her back and twisting her torso back and forth as a praised eight-year-old might do. "I did good, huh, Dr. Dancer?"

"You're my special little girl!" Dancer responded affectionately.

A wave of nausea came over both Kevin and Karen but for different reasons: Kevin because he had some idea what the girl must have gone through – lucky to be alive; and Karen because the interaction between Dancer and the girl was sickening and revolting. Without comment, Karen stood up and dove into the pool. When she reached the bottom, she screamed out in disgust. Her scream went unheard, of course. Since she was little, Karen knew that was a great way to let off steam without anyone knowing about it. When she resurfaced, she saw that Blonde Girl had chosen the lounge on the other side of Kevin and had taken off her bikini top. Without drying off, Karen returned to her lounge and began several conversations at once with Kevin, distracting him from the girl on the other side of her.

Sensing the tension, Kevin got up and dove into the pool and when he returned to the surface, he signaled for Bonnie to come in to join him. Karen was beginning to regret her decision to come to the compound. She liked Kevin a lot, but all of the people he interacted with seemed extremely creepy.