Darmak
Marty woke up in a square orange room. There really was no other aspect to the room than it being square and orange, in fact, save the double bed in the center and himself rested atop it.
He couldn’t really remember how he’d gotten here. Couldn’t remember much of anything since last night, in fact.
Groggily, he rose from the bed, and stood up. He began to search for a door, but with his first step, he slipped and fell forward. Slowly, though. It took him nearly three seconds to land. He already had his arms out in front of him, and by the time they made contact with the floor, his thrust was enough to push himself backwards, swinging drunkenly like a bob—’em clown, and slowly fall backwards onto the bed.
Breathing heavily, Marty stayed on the bed and tried to reason out events.
Four possible solutions came to mind. The first was that, here in this strange place, his mind was racing and he had simply perceived events as occurring more slowly. The same adrenaline rush had probably given him the burst of energy needed to push himself back up. It was the most reassuring possibility, although it range the least true.
The next possibility was that he was high. That also rang untrue, because Marty O’Conner had never so much as imbibed a single drink, let alone any hard-core drugs.
The third possibility was that he had gone insane, and that this was a revamped room in the Sunnyvale Mental Ward. But as he examined himself (watch, shoelaces, wallet pen in pocket) that also seemed unlikely, since those things were supposed to be removed so that no patient could get rowdy and slice an attendant’s throat with a sharpened credit card.
The last possibility was that something dramatically bizarre had happened to the outside world, and that his senses were in fully functioning order.
Testing this last hypothesis, he pulled the pen from his pocket, held it before him, and let it drop. It did, but slowly, far too slowly for the gravity his body was used to.
And finally Marty’s memories revealed something about last night involving bright flashing lights in the sky.
He forced himself to stop shivering. Okay, he’d been abducted by aliens, taken to a ship or some other planet with weaker gravity, and placed in this square orange room. The obvious question was why?
As he thought this, a door appeared to his left where no door had been before. Slowly, cautiously, a creature ected by aliens, taken to a ship or some other planet with weaker gravity, and placed in this square orange room. The obvious question was why?
As he thought this, a door appeared to his left where no door had been before. Slowly, deliberately, a creature entered. It stood about four feet tall, with six limbs, and resembled one of those magnified photos of microscopic creatures. It was bluish, it skin shining iridescently , and exuded a heady metallic scent.
“Wassup?” it greeted.
Marty wondered for a moment if the history books would really record mankind’s first contact with the stars as, “Wassup?” Trying to match the alien’s cool demeanor, he casually shrugged and answered. “Not much. You?”
“Same old,” the alien replied. “I’m Darmak.”
“Marty O’Conner. Nice to meet you.”
“Back at’cha. So, I bet you’re kinda curious why you’re here.”
“The thought had crossed my mind.”
“Well, simply put, I’m a scientist. I’ve been monitoring your little backwater planet for several decades, getting a feel for it, and I’ve come to the conclusion that you folks need a little evolutionary boost.”
Marty considered. “You mean the opposable thumb wasn’t enough?”
The alien laughed. “Not nearly. If you folks knew how far you had to go before most of the races of the galaxy would even TALK with you, you’d give up and go back into the ocean.”
“So why are you here then?”
“Well, I caught a few broadcasts of your television. You guys are amazingly creative, and you’d make a great addition to the universe. So I just wanted to help speed things along.”
“Well, um, thank you.”
“Welcome.”
“But don’t you guys have some sort of directive of non-interference in emerging cultures.”
“That’s just Star Trek,” Darmak answered. “To be painfully blunt, what I’m doing is analogous to experimenting on an ant hill in the back yard.”
“Ah,” Marty nodded, the wind slightly taken from his sails. “So how are you going to evolve me?”
“Well, evolve isn’t really the right word,” he explained, pulling out a small device that, while alien and foreign in the extreme, was still obviously some sort of gun. “With this quantum transmogrifier I could give you an extra set of limbs, or dleedil glands, or the power to pick up radio waves, but they wouldn’t help you or your species. Instead I’ll be letting you grow mentally and philosophically, letting you learn how to perceive the interconnectedness of all things. Your only physical changes will be related that. This means you’ll get two new glands and a complete recharge of you neural pathways, but practically nothing much will physically happen to you beyond going up a hat size. Ready?”
“Do I have a choice?” Marty asked.
“Not really,” Darmak shrugged, and pulled the trigger.
Marty woke up in his own room. He vaguely recalled a weird dream he’d had about a cool alien, but was too busy getting ready for school. This was his senior year, after all, and though he’d already been accepted into college, he had to keep his GPA up at least enough to graduate.
He examined himself in the shower, a daily experiment in masochism. It wasn’t that he had a bad body, but it certainly wasn’t great. He was a little overweight, hardly noticeable unless he took his shirt off, he had little to no muscle tone to speak of, his dick was, he’d measured daily in the hopes that it would change, 1/8 inch shorter than the average 5 ⅞″. He wasn’t handsome, though he wasn’t ugly. He was, to put it bluntly, utterly average. It pissed the hell out of him.
He’d never even had a date. After all, girls wanted a guy who was outstanding in some way, and if there was one thing Marty O’Conner was not, it was outstanding. If he was taller, or more muscular, or smarter, or better endowed, it might be another story.
There is a way, he thought, but realized as he thought it that it did not feel like his thoughts. The idea had a coppery tinge to it.
“What way?” he asked cautiously.
Marty’s mind was suddenly bombarded with quantum philosophy. For a moment, he understood quantum probability in its entirety, and was able to perceive every potential rotation of every individual atom and the interconnected reaction every possible variance had upon every other, and how to ensure that the proper movement affected the universe in proper ways.
Marty opened his eyes. Sure enough, his head did feel slightly larger. He thought of his dream of Darmak, and wondered if maybe it hadn’t been a dream after all. Then he looked back down at his body, and realized that there had been no change after all. It had been an interesting fantasy, but fantasy only.
Marty finished showering, dried off, and got dressed. He noticed though that neither his pants nor shirt fit quite right. Curious, he undressed and looked in his bedroom mirror.
Amazing, unbelievable, but true, his frame had grown more muscular, his 5′10″ almost an inch taller. His round face had grown slightly more angular, his thin black hair attractively overgrown, his...
Marty gawked, and ran to his desk to get a ruler. Surely enough, his cock was now almost seven inches.
Hyperventilating, he sat down. When he finally caught his breath, he measured his dick again, now at 7 ½″. His body was even brawnier, beginning to show actual muscle. He was still obviously himself, but now he was himself having taken a better road through life.
Finally, he stopped changing. He stood and stared at himself. He was now 6′1″, with the figure of an athlete. His features had become more handsome, slightly more rugged while also aloof, his straight black hair curling into raven locks that hung down to the nape of his neck. And his cock was almost twelve inches. If he stretched his could suck himself.
He was sorely tempted to, but at that moment his mother called him down to breakfast.
Marty was momentarily worried about what his family would think, but Darmak’s voice, masquerading as his own, calmed him. You have altered reality, it told him. You are able to perceive these changes because of your new acquaintance with quantum philosophy. They are not, and any changes you make they notice they shall justify as faulty interpretation on their own part.
Are you sure? Marty thought to the Darmak aspect of himself.
You doubt your own sanity, and you know better, Darmak replied. Humans are very well equipped to deal with psychological discontinuities. They do it on a daily basis.
Marty remained unconvinced even after his family did not comment on his new body. His mother served him some eggs, his father read the newspaper. His sister Heather, a year his younger, and her friend Clara gossiped over breakfast. Marty got the urge to experiment.
As he ate his scrambled eggs, he silently conversed with this new aspect of himself. So, Darmak, no one will notice any changes I make to reality?
Generally, no. If there is a change in their behavior, that will be due to a new aspect you have introduced into either yourself or them, but they will not find anything peculiar about it.
So I could make Mom and Dad stay home from work, and no one would find it odd?
Their employer and coworkers would, unless you alter them as well. But no, your parents would find nothing peculiar in it.
Could I make Heather and Clara give me a ride to school?
Everything has its own probability of occurring. Since you can now perceive that probability and initiate it, the limits are literally that of your imagination.
Marty considered that. He’d always been hot for Clara. She was small and tightly built, and though her breasts were only about a B cup on her tiny frame they looked huge. Marty concentrated, trying to find the line of probability that he was looking for, and once found, initiate it.
It happened quickly. Clara’s bosom began to heave, and she turned towards Marty, giving him a smoldering stare of pure heat. Heather, her perceptions changing as reality did, rolled her eyes and turned to talk with her mother. Clara rose her hand to her low-cut shirt, playing with the hemline around her substantial cleavage.
Damn it all if he hadn’t been able to make Clara fall in love with him!
Oops! Too much! he realized as she pulled the tight blue shirt down to expose a bra-less breast at him. But even as he thought it, he realized that no one was paying attention to either him or Clara, giving them the same diffident reaction as if they were still eating.
Of course, Darmak explained. THEY rationalize this as an everyday occurrence. Go on, man, she wants you.
Clearly, she did. Clara moaned erotically, and slid beneath the table. A moment later, Marty felt deft hands on his thighs, unzipping his pants, freeing his twelve inch cock. Clara squealed in delight as she took it in her hands, diligently sliding it into her mouth. Marty came quickly, and Clara licked his jism happily.
Just after she finished and rose again on her side of the table, smiling in blissful contentment and massaging his hardening cock with her foot, Marty’s mother said, “Okay, guys. Time to get to school.”
Only then did Marty realize that he’d just gotten a blowjob in front of his entire family. AND THEY HADN’T EVEN NOTICED IT!
Darmak was right. The limits were his imagination. All he had to do was think it, and make it happen, and it was so.
For a moment, Marty felt a twinge of panic. He had been given these powers by a superior alien race. Suppose they were testing him, seeing how he’d use his power?
The Darmak voice laughed. Dude, this is evolution. I don’t expect you to use it right the first time. I just expect you to procreate your ass off and spread this dominant gene to as many women as possible.
Music to Marty’s ears. He turned to Heather, switching reality so that his high-minded sister became subservient and obedient. “Sis, you’re driving me to school.”
“Very well,” she replied happily, as though her only joy were from service. Which, now, it was. Considering how much of a hell her determined argumentative nature had made his life in the past years, this seemed quite appropriate.
“And you can carry my backpack.”
Heather practically wet herself in glee.
Clara meanwhile had come around and was kissing his neck. As he rose, she stared at him in loving adoration.
Marty slipped his arm around Clara as they walked to his sister’s car. He had the power to transform reality, the power to make no one else notice any changes, and a mission to, in quote, procreate his ass off.
Marty smiled happily. This was going to be an interesting school day.