The curious case of a doctor whose groundbreaking experiment produces an unexpected effect.

This story is the property of the author. It may be redistributed, copied and stored without changes, though it is not to be used by commercial entities. Using this material in any commercial publication, including websites, without the express permission of the author, will be followed up with legal action. This fictional story was written for the entertainment of adults and should not be viewed by those under the legal age.

This is a story of casual, unprotected sex, and is a work of fiction. In real life, use a condom, damnit! Unwanted babies, HIV and all sorts of lesser sexual diseases await the idiot who “dips his wick” or “rides the rod” without protection.

“Doctor Jacqueline Stevenson recording, May 30th, 1995. The hypothesis of my experiment: Use radiological techniques to alter a subject’s brain wave oscillations in order to induce a trance state. This procedure has many potential applications, from greater clarity in police interviews, to helping victims of violence to overcome resulting negative psychological effects. With additional work, it may also assist in absorbing knowledge more effectively. This is human trial #1, attempting to create an alternate mental state.”

The pretty ash blonde woman placed the microphone onto a nearby table, clambered into a customized dentist’s chair, and lay back. Her assistant, a dark-haired man of average height, strapped a metal helmet to her head. Wires extruded from the helmet, running up to a hook on the ceiling and then down to a large machine in the back corner of the small room.

The man looked uneasy. “Are you sure, Jacqueline? We could run some more mouse trials first.”

She sighed. “Damnit, Gabe, I’m tired of waiting! The mice responded as expected when we used the machine on them.” She was referring to how the mice had forgotten their memorized path through the test maze. “They were perfectly fine afterward. Let’s get going.”

Gabe Utterman secured his boss’s arms to the chair using the attached belts and buckles. “At least let me...”

“No, Gabe. We don’t have FDA approval yet, so this is my choice. Just hand me the control.”

He placed the plastic remote in her hand and activated the microphone again.

“What I’m about to do is of my own volition,” she recorded. “I am not being coerced in any way. Dr. Utterman is following my orders to simply observe.” Then she gave Gabe a smile and activated the machine.

A faint cyclical ‘Worb worb worb’ sound emanated from the machine. Jacqueline closed her eyes.

After a few seconds Gabe spoke: “Jacqueline?”

She opened her eyes. “Fuck! It’s not working.” She thumbed a dial on the remote, but with her hands restrained it was awkward. The faint background sound increased in pitch and intensity. “Shit! Still nothing...” She flicked her thumb and the dial spun wildly, increasing the sound dramatically. She dropped the remote and closed her eyes.

Gabe rushed forward. “Jacqueline!”

She didn’t respond.

“No! Shit...” He reached for the remote but it had fallen under the chair. In the small room he had to lie across her slacks-covered legs to try to access it.

“Who are you?”

Gabe pushed back to regard her. “Jacqueline?”

His boss was looking at him curiously. “Your name is Jacqueline? Kinda odd, but okay.”

“No, it’s Gabe.”

“Gabe,” she repeated. Then she looked down at her restrained arms. “Hey, why can’t I move?” She strained at the straps. “Let me go!” She seemed angry now.

“Jacqueline, stop! You asked me to do this.” Gabe didn’t know what to do, and now she was flailing her legs so that he couldn’t reach the control!

She stopped kicking and looked at him. “Please let me go.” She looked like she was about to cry.

“I will. Just let me grab the control...” He circled around the front of the chair. As he ducked forward to reach the device beneath it, the last thing he saw before the blackness of unconsciousness was the sole of one of her sensible shoes rushing at his face.

Gabe Utterman woke to a throbbing pain in his chin and head, and the sound of a woman humming. “Ohh ... fuck...” He was on the cold tiled floor, and he could see the remote, just a bit beyond his reach. He raised his head, but not so high that the restrained woman could kick him again. “Jacqueline ... oww ... why did you do that?”

She stopped humming and looked down at him. “That’s not my name, Gabe.”

He was confused. “It’s not? What’s your name?”

She thought for a moment. “I don’t think I have one. How curious. Everyone should have a name.” Then she considered for a moment. “How about Heidi?”

“Heidi? Why Heidi?” He was inching along the floor toward the control, trying to keep her distracted by talking.

She closed her eyes. “I see names, all in a row ... I don’t like Anne, or Nancy, but I like Heidi.”

She opened her eyes again, and Gabe realized that the person in the chair wasn’t the woman he had worked with for the last five years. He lunged the last few inches and hit the red failsafe button on the remote. Immediately her head slumped to the side as the background whine faded.

He got to his feet. “Jacqueline! Dr. Stevenson!” He felt her neck; there was a strong pulse.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Gabe? Damnit, it didn’t work!”

He looked at her closely. “What’s my middle name?”

“What?”

“My middle name, Jacqueline ... what is it?”

She looked confused. “How should I know? Oh, wait ... it was on your application ... I want to say ... James?”

Gabe let out the breath he’d been holding. “Phew ... yeah.” He started to unbuckle her hands and then looked up at the clock on the wall. “Oh shit!”

She followed his gaze. “The machine was on for an hour-and-a-half? What the hell happened, Gabe?”

He finished unbuckling his boss and explained the bizarre encounter. Then they reviewed the digital recorder footage. After Gabe had been knocked out, “Heidi” had yelled and thrashed around for a bit, and then fell into humming some tunes.

Jacqueline turned the recording up, concentrating. “That’s ‘Rubber Ducky’, Ernie’s song from Sesame Street.”

Gabe considered. “Not exactly a song you’d hear on the radio these days.” He shook his head, then winced. “Ohh...”

Jacqueline caught Gabe as he sagged. “Looks like you might have a concussion, Dr. Utterman. Let’s get you to a hospital.”

Gabe did indeed have a concussion, and the attending physician sent him home for the rest of the week. This did not please Jacqueline, but it had been her foot that had injured him, so she couldn’t complain.

She returned to the lab and looked at the chair and equipment. The bonds were only there to keep her from hurting herself in case she had an epileptic fit, but she had been in the chair for well over an hour with no ill effects...

She climbed into the chair again, but didn’t fasten the helmet on this time. If she moved forward or thrashed her head then it would slip off and she’d be out of the wave field and back to herself. She had to figure out what was going on. She reached over, grabbed her pad and pen, and wrote, ‘Hello, I am Jacqueline.’

Then she activated the machine and ducked under the helmet.

Suddenly she was sitting up. The machine was still thrumming but the helmet had fallen away. She looked down at the pad. No additional writing. She wrote, ‘Please write what you want to say to me’ and then ducked under the helmet again.

Again, she found herself sitting up without the helmet. There was additional writing on the pad, and the handwriting was similar to her own, but there were noticeable differences: ‘I’m Heidi. How the fuck are you doing this?’

Using this bizarre note-passing method, going in and out of the wave field, a conversation formed. Jacqueline wrote down a layman’s version of her theory.

‘Bullshit,’ Heidi responded.

‘Then how do you explain this?’ asked the doctor.

Then there was no response when she came back out of the field. She went back in, but when she came out again her arm hurt. She found four gouged lines along her forearm, which matched the blood under her other arm’s fingernails.

She turned the machine off. “Well, that’s enough of that.”

After treating the scratches, she went home.

She woke in the morning extremely tired, her muscles aching. “Ohh...” she groaned. She had been neglecting her exercises, concentrating instead on work, and this was the result. “Heidi” must have really been working at getting loose of the restraints the previous day.

She tied her hair back, donned her cardio outfit, and admired herself in the mirror. The tight yoga pants showed the ass of a thirtysomething woman that at one point you could have bounced a quarter off of, but not so much anymore. Still attractive, though. Her sleeveless t-shirt showed off nice, round boobs that she felt actually looked more attractive than when she had been more fit. She decided she’d do some leg and butt work.

After she exercised, showered, and dressed, she left for work. The next door neighbor’s apartment door opened and the Russian lady who lived there gave her a smile and wave before she closed it again.

Weird, Jacqueline thought. She had never even talked with the woman before.

The previous night:

As Jacqueline entered her apartment building she could hear the next door neighbors screaming at each other in Russian again. When she got to her own doorway, the neighbors’ door flew open and the wife burst out, crying. She ran past Jacqueline on her way to the stairwell, the skin around her eye red and swelling up.

Her husband, tall, dark, and definitely not handsome, ran after her, his hands balled into fists. His intentions were clear.

Jacqueline didn’t even think about it; she stepped in front of him.

The man barely looked down at her before he backhanded her out of the way.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have done that, big man.”

The husband paused, confused, and turned back to the woman he had struck. She was rubbing her face where he had hit her, and her eyes...

“What--?” he managed to get out before the blonde pushed herself off of the wall with her foot and rammed her fist into his throat.

“Ukghhh!” The man grabbed at his neck, unable to breathe. He tottered at the edge of the stairwell.

Her kick took out his stair-side knee. Unable to hold the 200-plus pounds of Russian beef, it buckled and he fell. After the sound of several sickening impacts, he came to rest on the landing, his eyes staring at his wife, now his widow, watching from a few steps further down, while the rest of his body was twisted around the opposite way.

The newly widowed woman looked up at her savior. “I take care of this. You go!” she hissed.

Heidi nodded and picked up the purse and set of keys that had fallen to the floor. She unlocked Jacqueline’s door and went inside.

“Very nice...” she commented as she locked the door behind. It was an open concept studio apartment. While it was fairly sparse, Jacqueline had made an attempt to make it look “homey”.

The first thing she did was have a look at herself in the bedroom’s full length mirror. Older than she remembered, though she didn’t know how she remembered a younger version of herself, or this “Jacqueline” person, for that matter. She undressed and examined “the goods”. Not bad, she thought, though she’d have to work on that ass before it got away from her.

She looked at the scratches she had left on Jacqueline’s arm. She didn’t even feel them. She had also barely felt the slap earlier, and her face felt fine now, though in the mirror she could see a fading red mark where the big man had hit her.

She remained naked as she investigated the rest of Jacqueline’s things. She found some notes on the experiment that had brought Heidi to ... life? Back to life? She definitely remembered things from before today -- flashes, impressions -- but she couldn’t understand much of what was in the notes.

How long would she remain like this? she wondered. In the lab it seemed that she could only “exist” while the helmet was on her head. The neighbor’s attack had somehow caused her to surface again, and Jacqueline was nowhere to be found.

She had an urge to just run away, to get the hell out of town, but no, she wasn’t going to run away again. Again? Had she run away before? She didn’t know.

She found some leftover sushi in the fridge and devoured it. She liked eating. That would be unfortunate for her ass if she didn’t keep a handle on it, she realized.

There was a knock at the door. When she opened it a crack she saw a male police officer standing there.

“Evenin’, ma’am. May I speak to you about the incident?”

“Incident?”

He looked over toward the stairwell and back, confused. “You didn’t hear the screaming and thumping?”

She looked the cop up and down. Young, probably a rookie or not long since, in pretty good shape. “I hear screaming all the damn time from the neighbors,” she nodded toward their door. “Thumping too. I tune it out.”

He nodded slowly. “Well, there’s been a death. UM!”

She had opened the door wide, revealing her nakedness. “That asshole finally kill his wife?” she asked, unconcerned. “Hope you fry him for that.”

The cop, bless him, was looking above her head now. “Ma’am, you might wanna put a robe on or somethin’.” He waited, but she stayed where she was. He continued, “And no, it was the husband who died, fallin’ down the steps here.”

She smirked sexily at the officer, whose voice seemed to be showing some Southern twang now that he was flustered. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy. Do you want to come inside?”

At the suggestively worded question, his eyes couldn’t help but scan her sexy body before looking away again. “Um, no ma’am! If you say you didn’t see nuthin’ then that’s fine. Can I just get some ID, though?”

She turned to the purse she had dropped just inside the door and bent down to rifle through it, showing off her bubbly butt to the cop, who gave a little “Eep!” at the sight. Then she turned back and handed him Jacqueline’s driver’s license.

He wrote the information down and handed it back, struggling not to look below her eye level. “Thanks, ma’am. You have a good evenin’.” Then he turned away, trying to hide an obvious erection as she closed the door.

She watched some Xena: Warrior Princess on TV and then felt tired. She brushed her teeth and slipped into the luxurious queen bed. While she lay there, her hand snaked down between her legs. The action from earlier had left her feeling antsy. She thought about the cute policeman, one of only three men she had seen in a long time, other than Gabe and “Mr. Neck-twist-ov”, and thought about the cop taking her from behind.

“Oh, yeah...” she moaned, dipping a manicured finger inside her pussy as her thumb stimulated her clitoris. Soon she reached her release, cumming hard on two fingers as she arched her back, gasping. Her breathing slowed, and then she fell asleep.

Jacqueline was blocked in her research. She worked alone with Gabe, and needed him to secure her hands so that her alter ego wouldn’t damage her body again, since Heidi wasn’t going to be forthcoming otherwise.

She reviewed her notes. The mice hadn’t shown alternate personalities, but of course if they had, how would you tell? They were mice, and couldn’t talk. The experiment had shown that they couldn’t access their memories while being affected by the wave field, which wasn’t what she was ultimately trying to achieve. She thought about people who got incredibly drunk and blacked out, or were given rohypnol, “roofies” in the more common parlance ... was this more like that? An altered mental state due to the broadcast wave forms instead of through chemical means?

“Great, I’ve invented a date rape machine.” She sighed and dropped her head into her hands.

After work she headed home again. Not finding the sushi she thought she had left in the fridge, and feeling restless after changing out of her lab clothes, she decided to head down to the local pizza place for a slice or two.

As she walked along the sidewalk she kept her eyes down. The city was full of people that you just didn’t know how they were going to respond these days. Crime was up, taxes were up, health care costs were up, and people that would normally have been kept in mental institutions were put out on the street due to budget cuts. The world was going to hell.

An unkempt man quickly strode out of an alley and bumped into her. “Oh!” she exclaimed as she recoiled.

“Watch where you’re going, bitch,” the man uttered as he continued up the sidewalk.

“You talking to yourself?” the woman called out after him.

He turned back. “What?”

“Bitch,” she said, pointing at him, “watch where you’re going.”

He stomped back up to her. “You...” Then he looked into her eyes. “Um...” He suddenly felt afraid of this little woman. “Sorry, lady.” Then he turned and walked very quickly away, not looking back.

Heidi didn’t remember leaving the apartment, having just suddenly found herself angry and on the sidewalk. She was hungry, though. She spotted a bar up the street offering Wing Night and went in.

It was definitely a “rough and tumble” looking place, with even the older patrons looking like they used to be Hell’s Angels back in the day. She found a booth, sat down, and perused the stained menu.

A waitress who dressed for the body she had lost 20 years ago approached. “What can I get’cha, hon?”

“Wings, every flavor, and lots of ‘em,” Heidi replied. “And beer, whatever’s on tap.”

The woman nodded and headed to the back. Heidi looked down at her own button-up shirt, shook her head, and undid the top 2 buttons. Much better! Let the girls out to play.

After filling her belly, Heidi sat back and sighed. Clearly she wasn’t going to stay in charge of this body, but how long would it last before Jacqueline took it back? When she fell asleep, like last time?

She looked over at the pool tables. Might as well enjoy myself while I can, she thought.

One man was clearly “sharking” the competition, a ruggedly handsome dark-haired guy she guessed was about thirty. Heidi noticed that he purposely flubbed a couple of his shots against her so she won the first game for $5. “Double or nothin’?” he asked as he flashed his flashy smile at her.

“Why don’t we make it more interesting?” she asked.

After she beat him for the fourth straight game, “Stu the Shark” shook his head. “Can’t fuckin’ believe it...” he murmured. “So what’s my tally?”

“Really big,” she replied, moving up and grabbing his package through his tight jeans. “Just like this. Give me what I want and we’ll call it even.”

Stu’s apartment door burst open as he and Heidi, practically stuck to each other at the lips and hips, barely kicked it closed behind them. Clothes flew in every direction before they ended up on Stu’s bed, he on his back and Heidi already lining up his hard cock with her very wet pussy.

“Condom?” Stu asked, but Heidi answered by sinking halfway down his thin seven incher. “Okay, guess we’re not doin’ that.” Then he grabbed her hips to help get himself all the way inside her. As he bottomed out, she shook in her first orgasm.

“Fuucckkk...” she moaned.

Stu looked up at her beautiful face, and then down at her gorgeous round boobs. “Goddamn...” he said, lifting his head up to suck on one of her nipples.

“Mmm...” she purred, and started to ride him. When her nipples got too sensitive she pushed him back, grabbed his hands, and held them down on the bed as she fucked his cock.

She leaned forward and took his lower lip in her teeth, gently biting it.

“Aah! Shit ... you are so fucking hot, Heidi...”

She stopped bouncing and rotated her hips, grinding the root of his cock and swirling the shaft around inside her. “Oohh...” Then she started to ram her hips up and down again.

“Oh fuck ... gonna cum,” he moaned. She didn’t stop. “You gonna pull off?”

Heidi redoubled her movements. “This is my first time, so you better fuckin’ fill me right up, stud. Uhhh ... yeeahhh...”

“Unnhh! Unhh!” Stu thrust his hips up into the wanton woman as he blasted her insides with his cum.

“Ohh ... ouhh...” Heidi gasped as she felt her unused pussy being inundated with Stu’s hot seed, and came again. Then she collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily.

“You are amazing,” Stu said.

She climbed off of him, watching his cock retreat like a turtle into its shell. “Oh, we’re not done yet,” she said before she took his spermy cock into her mouth.