Hermaphrodite Revenge

By Aaron Pery

Professor Patrick Moran is an unusually brilliant scholar and a hermaphrodite as well. He is abducted from his home by aliens whose huge spaceship had crashed on a parallel world and are planning on using him as a breeder for their lost personnel. What they got instead of a pliant misfit was literally a tiger by the tail, who ends up destroying them and freeing all of the other abducted breeders.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aaron Pery
• Release date: Aug 6, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452390574

Aaron Pery

As most authors might claim, I was always been a natural storyteller and voracious book reader. Somehow, I also knew that some day I would sit down and write a book, which I did quite recently.When I finally sat in front of my computer monitor to do just that, the words literally came pouring out. Before very long, I had written many books in various genres.At first, my prolific writing was mainly for the pleasure and self-entertainment involved, until I discocered Smashwords and ebooks, and here I am, a published author with a long list of books to my credit. And many more to come.

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Hermaphrodite Revenge

By Aaron Pery

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Smashwords ebook Edition

All Rights Reserved

Copyright 2010 by Aaron Pery

ISBN: #978-1-4523-9057-4

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Also by the same author:

The Centaurs

The Royals

The Patriots

Second Putsch

Playmoney

Pogrom Progeny

The Queen's Legacy

Hermaphrodite Revenge

Phoenix Bloodline

Hermaphrodite Revenge

Chapter 1

It was unusually hot even for an August day, with a flawlessly clear blue sky over Malibu, California, where Patrick Moran sat on his porch overlooking the shimmering waters of the Pacific Ocean. He had just come down from taking a shower after a long, very early morning run as was his habit to do while in town. Lighting his first cigar of the day, he took a careful sip from the coffee mug that his housekeeper had brought him just a moment earlier.

To a casual observer Patrick seemed to be the embodiment of a beach boy on his last blush of youth—tanned nearly black with thinning reddish blond hair, quite tall and well-built, with a somewhat slack looking face that was turning jowly at age forty. Most of his neighbors in this wealthy gated housing section were sure that he must have inherited the money to buy this mansion-size house since he was not at all known in either business or entertainment communities where most of them made their living. The opinions suited him well because Patrick had no wish to befriend any of them since he preferred the resultant seclusion and privacy to lead the kind of life that he desired.

I wish, he suddenly thought, that Mom and Dad were here to share this wonderful life with me. It suddenly seemed natural for his mind to wander back to his origins and to reflect on the last time he had had dinner with his parents twenty-five years earlier.

Though barely fifteen at the time, Patrick had already finished his second year at UCLA, majoring in mathematics and computer science. He quite a genius, with an IQ of two-twenty, and had eagerly been given a full scholarship by the California college system that covered all his schooling years through graduate studies. Though he was only thirteen when he had started his freshman year at UCLA, he felt comfortable at school because he did not look his age since he was just as well-developed physically as he was mentally.

His great wish, though, having been an only child and doted over by his mother, was to transfer to UC Berkeley from where he hoped to graduate in one year, receive his a PhD in computer engineering a year later and then a doctorate soon after. Patrick loved his parents dearly but felt that he needed to be away for a while in order to develop into a young man emotionally.

He had applied for the transfer without telling his parents, but since he was a minor their signature was required on the final papers and he could no longer delay telling them about his decision. When he did, over dinner on a Saturday night, his mother literally wailed in indignation about him making such an important decision without consulting with them first.

Besides, Patty, you're much too young to leave home yet. Give it another two years at UCLA before making such a drastic move.

His father intervened before Patrick had a chance to respond. I disagree, Selma. In fact I'm quite proud of Pat for having made the decision on his own because it shows that he has the maturity and guts to make such a move.

But he's still just a baby, Walt.

Patrick's father smiled at her as he took his wife's hand. Our Pat stopped being a baby at age three when he finished reading his first adult book, which gave us quite a shock if you'll remember. Anyway, he's fully grown now both mentally and physically, and even though I hate to have him leave the truth is that at this stage in his life Pat needs to be on his own.

His mother gave the idea serious thought before responding. I'm afraid that you're both right, but this isn't something that should be decided upon hastily. How about it if we delay the final decision for one week so we'll have time to consider it from every angle?

Oh, I guess we should. What do you think, Pat?

Okay, Mom and Dad, but no later than by next Sunday night because the papers must be sent out on Monday.

That's fair.

No additional discussion about his future ever took place since, when his parents drove home from dinner the next Saturday night, their car was struck head-on by a drunk driver, killing both instantly. Though grieving bitterly about their cruel and untimely deaths, Patrick still had the presence of mind to call Berkeley Admissions Office to tell them about it and receiving a fifteen day extension.

A week after the funeral, Patrick met with the family attorney who was his official guardian, and found that he was about to become very wealthy since the insurance company was paying him for both his parents what he discovered was called a double-indemnity. And that in addition, the drunk's insurance company was paying double that amount because he was a well-known movie personality and they feared the publicity. It was a pleasing idea to suddenly consider himself a millioner four times over and with a practically paid-off house and a brand new luxury car. Not only that, but the attorney, who was a close family friend and knew that Patrick was a responsible young man as well as a genius, had no intention of interfering with his personal life and activities.

Thanks for signing my application to Berkeley, Mr. Sandler.

It was your dad's wish that you go there, which he told me about rather proudly just a few days before he was killed. What are you going to do with all the money and the house, though?

The house is going to be too painful for me to keep so I'll need your help to sell it after I dispose of its contents and put my personal belongings away in a storage facility.

Sure. I'll call a realtor that I've been dealing with to put it up for sale today.

Thanks. As to the money, I'll deposit most of it in safe long-term investments and use the rest for expenses and for playing the stock market.

Sandler chuckled. Walt had told me quite a while back that you're a whiz at analyzing stock fluctuations and that you were able to increase the original amount of money he had set for you up two years ago. Considerably so.

Patrick smiled. Yeah, but it wasn't too serious an endeavor—just a game I like playing, which I'll now turn into a determined money-making pursuit.

Will you have the time for it with the big load of studies that you intend to get yourself into?

Not really because it only takes me a few minutes daily to peruse through the required information on my notebook computer, which I'd fiddled with to turn into a literal super computer. As to spending my time on it, since the West Coast is three hours behind the Exchange and since I'm an early riser, I'll do my daily investments by seven each morning.

That'll be great. Please keep me informed about how everything goes. Better yet, how about advising me about any great stocks you find so I can do a bit of investing myself?

It will be my pleasure do do so, Mr. Sandler.

Chapter 2

Despite his great sorrow at the loss of his parents and the drastic change in his way of life, the secret that he had kept from them which had influenced Patrick to seek the change in his living conditions, kept gnawing at him while he prepared for the move to the Bay Area. It had began a year earlier after a rapid spurt of physical growth, when he noticed some strange features on his body he assumed were unnatural—that despite having reached full puberty, his face and chest remained devoid of hair, and that his nipples and areolas were growing and widening. He did not pay it too much attention at first, until a while later when he saw that he had also developed a small fatty pad under each nipple. A month later, to his great chagrin as he toweled himself after taking a shower, he could no longer dismiss these very strange growths on his chest as a fluke since they kept growing.

Possessing a totally scientific mind, he used his digital camera to take daily pictures of his upper torso for the next thirty days, until he could no longer ignore the reality of his condition since by then he had developed truly female breasts. Too embarrassed to tell his parents and anxious to hide this strange condition, he found the means to conceal them by buying an elastic truss in a drug store that was designed to relieve back pains. Patrick was pleased to see once he put it on for the first time, that the binding worked even better than he had hoped for since it totally flattened his chest. It looked strange, he thought, like a girdle because it accentuated the fact that he also possessed a rather narrow waist

When his breasts reached orange-size, Patrick decided to seek medical help. Since he was a student at UCLA, he was eligible for free health insurance so he looked at the list of available physicians and found a Dr. Landau, who specialized in gender abnormalities and called to set up an appointment. The doctor gave him a lengthy examination while paying particular attention to his breasts, genitals, and by now his unusually wide hips.

So what conclusions did you reach, Dr. Landau? He asked at the end of the exam.

That you obviously have a problem, and that you were wise to come see me.

And what else?

Nothing for the moment because before I come up with any diagnosis I'll need to run a series of blood tests, then determine what's causing your body to do what it's doing. Sorry I can't be more definitive but I truly must run these tests before saying anything further.

I can understand that.

Good, so set up another appointment for a week from now with my nurse after she draws your blood.

When he returned to Dr. Landau's office, the doctor examined his genitals again, even more thoroughly this time, poking his a finger in various areas all around it and below his penis. Finally, he straightened and asked Patrick to sit up and smiled when he asked for his conclusions.

I can give it to you pretty quickly, Patty, but there's one more test that I'd like to perform before I do that.

What kind of test?

It's not a test, really. A better description for it is a probe, which I would like to insert at a spot between your legs about half an inch directly below the penis.

A camera? Like cardiologists do when they insert a probe into a patient's arteries?

Pretty much the same kind of instrument, though not into any artery.

Where, then? And for what purpose?

There's a cavity under everyone's groin, where the internal portion of our genitals are located. It won't hurt because all I need to do is make a tiny incision which will allow me to take a peek at your inner organs. May I?

Sure. Go ahead, Doctor.

True to his word, Dr. Landau's incision and when he inserted the probe into it were barely felt. Ten minutes later, after covering the cut with a band aid, the doctor told Patrick to dress and sit in a chair next to his desk. Okay, Pat, I can tell you of all my findings now. First, all the blood tests that we ran on you indicate that your body possess an equal amount of testosterone and estrogen running in your system. Are you aware of what that means?

Yes, of course. That I'm neither man nor woman—like a human mule.

Not quite so. Or, rather, not at all.

Then what am I?

A true hermaphrodite, Pat. Do you know what that is?

Yes, which still means that I'm neither fish nor fowl.

On the contrary, it means that you are both a man and a woman because you possess a fully functional penis and gonads while, at the same time, also female genitals. Dr. Landau explained that on rare occasions an embryo acquires the wrong number of the chromosomes that determine its gender.

Which is what had happened to you and why, once puberty arrived, your body tried to correct its error by greatly increasing your estrogen production. We don't know what triggers this condition, but the fact is that you now possess physical characteristics of both genders and their reproductive organs and libidos.

I can see my male organs, but nothing of my female ones other than breasts and wide hips. How come?

Because of your delayed feminine development, these organ are hidden within your body cavity. But they're there alright, as I'd just seen on the probe, clamoring for release, so to speak.

You mean I possess a vulva right under my penis?

Exactly, with a fully developed set of female reproductive organs and the only unusual feature that your body had wisely done was to connect it and its urethral outlet to your penis.

I understand the urethral link, but why did my body attach the vagina to my penis?

Because, like I said, you possess a nearly fully developed female setup as well as the male one.

Oh, my God, with an ovulation cycle that requires an outlet for the blood that my body discharges every month? But why haven't I seen any of it coming out so far?

Lucky for you, you're at a stage of development when you produce very little menstrual fluids, which mixes well with your urine and has therefore been quite hard for you to detect. Which won't last this way for very long since you are about to begin menstruating normally which, fortunately, you'll be able to control the flow like you do with your urine.

You mean I'll piss blood once a month for almost a week? That's disgusting. Is there a solution to my problem?

There is, depending upon your decision about which gender you'd like to choose. Then, based on that, we'll remove either your penis and testicles, or all the female organs within and without your body.

Brrr. Cutting my cock off sounds terrible.

I understand can how you'd feel this way. Does that mean that you'd prefer to live as a man?

That's crazy, asking a grown person what gender he'd like to choose to be.

Actually, if you think about it, you're privileged to have a choice in the matter since the rest of us depend on nature's decision of whether we will end up being male or female.

Like a crap-shoot, isn't it, that affects one's entire life?

Very much so, and that makes you a very fortunate person.

Maybe. Any ramifications to whatever is done once I make the decision?

Either of the surgeries are fairly simple, but in order maintain a normal life in your ultimate gender choice you will have to constantly ingest daily doses of either estrogen or testosterone.

Forever?

I'm afraid so. Anyway, you must make a decision rather quickly because you're almost at the point of no return.

What happens if I don't make any?

You'll lead a very confused life because you will be sexually drawn to both genders. In other words, you'll be switching mindsets between desires to be an aggressive or submissive sexually.

Submissive means being gay if I don't cut my cock and nuts off, doesn't it?

No quite so. Well, it will appear to others that you are gay because your anus will be the only receiving orifice in your body. But unlike most gay men you'll also possess many of the feminine erogenous zones that will allow you to experience some very unusual orgasms. Particularly on your breasts if you decide not to remove them.

Which, now that I think about it, will turn me into a drag queen. Right?

Or a transgender—a person who's body incorporates outward organs of both genders, who likes to switch appearances between them depending on a chosen lifestyle, mood, and sexual desires.

And moon cycles? Oh, never mind that, Doctor. The truth is, now that you had brought it up, that it had crossed my mind a few times when I put on my chest-binding that it looks like an old-fashioned girdle because it makes my waist look narrow and butt quite round.

That's because your pelvis is designed to bear children, you know.

I do now. Well, the fact is that the thought of remaining as I am at present does not bother me, and half the time it actually pleases me to possess breasts and a penis. Which, crazy as it might sound, gives me instant hardons most of the time like I want to screw this feminine looking guy in the mirror.

That's what I was talking about, Pat, possessing a rather confused outlook on life and sexuality if you don't do anything to eliminate one gender or another.

Isn't it called being bi-sexual? I mean being attracted to and having sex in an alternate gender mode.

Dr. Landau grinned. Are you telling me that you'd already done it with both sexes?

Oh, no. I'm still a true virgin, Doctor, although I do play with myself a lot.

A virgin at your age? That's kind of unusual, Pat.

Maybe I'm a bit too shy about sex for my age, but it isn't as crazy as you think.

Dr. Landau suddenly grabbed Patrick's file and scanned it quickly. My God, Pat, you're barely fifteen years old. I should've checked it but being a Junior at UCLA and looking the way you do, I'd figured that you're about twenty. Well, what's done is done, and I'm now in deep shit for treating a minor without his parents' consent.

I wouldn't worry about it, Doctor, if you promise to keep this weird state of my gender secret from my parents.

Promise. But how come you're a Junior at your tender age?

Prodigal son and all that, you know. Anyway, I'm curious about how big my breasts will get if I decide to keep them.

Considering your age and their current size and shape, I'd imagine they'll double in size in about a year, and maybe get even larger by the the time you reach seventeen.

Kind of almost standard development rate for a girl my age?

There's no hard rule for it but it's an average growth rate for teenagers.

Patrick got up. Thank you Doctor, for everything. I still haven't made up my mind about which way to go, so give me time to think about it and I'll let you know either way.

Don't take too long because you're at the right age to undergo whichever treatment you decide on. And you'll also have to get your parents' consent for your next visit, you rascal.

One more question, Doctor. How long will the recovery period from either operation be?

Physically no more than a month. Mentally, considering who you are, I'd say just a few days.

Thanks again, Dr. Landau.

Chapter 3

Patrick had never contacted the doctor to give him his decision because the more he considered his odd physical circumstance the less inclined he became to discuss it with anyone. He kept inspecting his chest size every day after showering, and was grateful to see that his breasts were still growing at a slow rate. He knew, though, that this pace was only temporary because both his nipples and areolas were constantly expanding and he dreaded the time when his breasts and hips would experience the next growth spurt. Also, he quickly learned to recognize the impending arrival of his period on about a twenty-four day cycle, when his nipples became unusually hard for no reason and he felt a definite swelling above his groin. The first time it happened, and when the blood squirted out of his penis the next morning, he was shaken by the sight and smell of the putrid smelling liquid streaming out of his body. Yet he did not allow himself to be rattled by it for too long and barely paid any attention to it when it happened the next time.

No new considerable physical growth occurred by the time of his parents' death, and he began wondering if maybe he might be lucky and turn out to be small-breasted like some of the young women he knew. But his fear materialized, though to a small degree, during the night after the funeral when he visited the bathroom the next morning. He easily realized the change by their sudden added weight and bounce, that his breasts had grown and changed during the night. Standing in front of the mirror he saw that he now possessed breasts that looked as though they belonged to a grown woman—wider-based and well-shaped, with large nipples that became hard the moment he touched them. His waist had changed as well, becoming narrower, his hips rounder, and his buttocks firmer and smoother to the touch.

Patrick liked having the freedom of being alone in the house and rarely wore his binding other than on the rare occasions that he needed to go out to buy groceries for the meals that he had learned to cook for himself. Another factor that pleased him was that he no longer needed to go to school other than for tests since UCLA offered Virtual Classrooms which he signed up for the moment he found out about it.

The realtor that Mr. Sandler had set him up with showed up two days later to inspect the house and take marketing pictures of it. Patrick was surprised when he assessed the house at two-million dollars, which the man explained was due to its size, state of perfect repair, pool, and location on a hill in Santa Monica that overlooked the bay. Even more amazing was the fact that it was sold after only ten days of being on the market, with four bids that exceeded the asking price by a large margin. At the realtor's advice, he accepted the second best offer since the buyer's credit was stellar, and he agreed to an escrow closing of just a day before he was to leave for Berkeley. And even more convenient for him was that the buyers desired to buy the house with all its furniture, which saved him the hassle of selling or donating them to charity.

The only task that remained for him to do was dispose of all of his parents' personal mementos and clothing, which he started on as soon as the house was sold. He kept few of their personal historical items other than jewelry, a few valuables, and documents that he thought he might need in the future. All the others he shredded then disposed of by using the normal city rubbish removal system. Once done, he looked through the closets and dressers and kept a few of his father's dress shirts that he tried on and found large enough to conceal his breasts. He put the rest in trash bags that filled the car trunk and back seat with, then took them to the nearest charity donation center.

He was surprised by his ability to sort through everything without allowing his emotions to interfere with it, only occasionally letting his eyes tear. But that changed drastically when he began going over his mother's belongings the next day, and was quite startled by what he found in her underwear dresser. He had never noticed that she had an affinity for wearing the silkiest, briefest bras and panties under her clothes, and his hands shook when he touched all of them. He was so taken with their utter feminine sexiness that he could not resist putting on one of the bikini panties after dropping his robe to the floor, then rushing to the mirror to inspect himself.

Patrick thought that it made him look fantastic as it was the first time ever that he saw himself wearing women's panties rather than men's cotton shorts, which fit quite well over his round hips and seemed to go well with his breasts. So how about putting on the matching bra that goes with these beautiful pink panties, he asked himself, since Mom's breasts were practically of my current size.

His hands literally shook when he picked the flimsy looking bra and ran his hand over the silky and transparent fabric. Though inexperienced with feminine underwear, it was easy for him to determine that because the bra had no underwire it was designed to fit a myriad range of sizes. So it should fit me well for a while, he thought, but I don't really know how to put the son of a bitch on.

It was quite a job to do that, Patrick soon found out. It was easy to insert his breasts into the cups once he put his arms into the shoulder straps, but a difficult chore to fasten it in the back without letting his breasts slip out in the process. It took him a while to master it and he cursed every time the flexible strap slipped out of his hands and hit him painfully before he finally managed to close it with both breasts in place. Then, once it was achieved and still feeling somewhat uncomfortable, he shook his shoulders from side to side and was amazed to see that as a result his breasts fell perfectly into place.

Patrick looked in the mirror and gasped at the sight of himself dressed in such beautiful and sexy underwear. The only fact that marred his delight was that during his futile attempts to put the bra on he kept touching his breasts, which resulted in getting highly excited. He saw that his nipples were so puckered and hard that they poked through the thin fabric and that, as a consequence, he had developed a rather stiff erection.

It was an utterly unnatural sight and Patrick could not resist touching both places, which made his nipples and penis harden even more. As though in a trans he pulled his penis out of the side of the panties and began playing with it while his other hand caressed his breasts. His release, when it came explosively, was better than any he had