0 comments/ 8992 views/ 4 favorites Achilles Ch. 01 By: amateur_insomniac It was February when my parents died in a car accident, on a cold and snowy day, like all February days seemed to be in Minneapolis. I was their only daughter. I'd had a sister once, Chloe was her name, but she died at a very young age due to a rare genetic disorder. Chloe's death had motivated my father, a brilliant geneticist, to dedicate his work towards finding a cure for the disorder that killed her. I don't even know what the disease is called; it has too long of a name and I didn't inherit my father's brains. I was nineteen at the time and attending the University of Minnesota, though I had no major declared and hardly knew what to do with my life; my parents had insisted I attend college and at least begin taking general courses. I assumed they hoped something would appeal to me and my career choice would become apparent. I dropped out after they died, falling into a deep depression, and avoided what few friends I had until they stopped calling, secluding myself at home. Since I was an only-child and we had no other family, everything was left to me; the house, the cars, and the summer cabin on Lake Mille Lacs. We were always well off financially due to my father's brilliance, and both mom and dad had sizable life insurance policies, so even though my life had little direction at least I didn't have to worry about money. That made it easy to closet myself away from the rest of the world for a while. Part of the inheritance was dad's business. He owned a small private lab where he conducted his research, located not far from our house in the western suburbs. The work ended when he died, of course, and what few employees he had moved on to other jobs and the lab was closed. Due to my terrible depression after their death, it was a few months before I got around to dealing with the lab. It was my intention to take stock of what was in there, see if I could find anything I wanted to keep, and eventually sell the building and everything else in it. Private investors and other research companies called constantly after the accident, looking to purchase the lab and equipment, but I had been putting the whole ordeal off. It was a muggy July day, shortly after the Independence Day holiday, when I finally gathered the motivation to go over there. I remember wearing cut-off jean shorts and an old spaghetti-strap top, both old rags that I wasn't worried about getting soiled in case the place was dusty. My long black hair was pulled into a pony tail, and I smelled faintly of suntan lotion (I had grown pale from my indoor seclusion and was worried about burning). I parked my Grand Cherokee right in front, unlocked the lab building doors, and walked into a flood of memories. I had spent a lot of time in that place growing up, pretending I was a nurse or a doctor while my father worked, and things were exactly as they had always been. I began in his office, boxing up various personal effects. There were pictures of mom and me everywhere, and even one of Chloe. It was hard to package up his life, but I knew it was pointless for me to put off doing it any longer. The building, and all the lab equipment within, could be put to better use than just sitting there dormant. After I finished in Dad's office I took a tour through the lab to see if there was anything else I wanted to keep. I came to a locked door and couldn't remember what was on the other side. I assumed it was a closet or something, and began trying keys from my father's key ring until I found one that opened it. The door revealed to a stairway leading down to a basement, which surprised me because I couldn't remember ever being down there. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I flicked the stairwell lights and checked it out. I was greeted by another large area, though things seemed to resemble a medical facility more than a genetic lab. There was scientific equipment all about that brought images of a hospital to mind, with various monitors and control panels that I obviously knew nothing about. Then I gasped. On the far end of the room was a table with a body laying upon it. A male body. What was my father doing with a cadaver? Was he using it for his genetic tests? But something wasn't right. The body was naked and didn't show any signs of decomposition. I remember thinking it should at least smell a lot worse, but I couldn't smell anything. I slowly approached the table, curiosity temporarily overruling the hairs on the back of my neck. He sure didn't look dead. In fact, I was thinking he was beautiful, whoever he was. His body was lean and muscled, with a V-shaped torso and he had the most delicious arms. His blonde hair was cut short and neatly trimmed and his face was free of facial growth, as though freshly shaven. He had a circumcised penis that was equally hairless, and my eyes lingered on it too long. I remember thinking that I shouldn't be staring at a dead man's penis, no matter how perfect it looked. Then I gasped again. He was breathing. He was alive! A flood of questions swirled around in my head like a twirling wind. Was he sleeping? In a coma? Had he been down there for the last six months? Would he suddenly wake up and kill me? I took a step back and a deep breath. I rationalized that he couldn't be in a coma. There were no IV tubes or anything hooked up to him, so there was no way he could have been laying there for the last six months and still be alive. But why would anyone be sleeping in the basement of my father's lab? Naked? I wanted to run, but I didn't. I don't know what strange courage came over me, but I stepped over to the table and reached out and touched his bicep. "Hello?" I muttered feebly. His eyes opened and I remember feeling my heart fall into my stomach with fear. I worried I was in danger, but his head turned slowly towards me and he looked right at me with intense blue eyes. "Hello." he responded in a calm deep voice. His body remained motionless, only his head moved. "Um, hi. I'm Stacy." I said dumbly, not knowing what else to say to a naked man in my father's lab. My hand remained on his arm, which was so warm and smooth. He had perfect skin that was evenly tan over his entire body. He didn't seem threatening, which allowed me to suppress my instinct to flee. "Hello Stacy. I am Achilles." he said, still motionless as he lay on the table looking at me. "Achilles? Like the Greek hero?" "Yes. Though I am without weakness, like he was." That was an odd thing to say, I thought. "Um, can you tell me what you're doing down here?" "I am waiting for your father to return." "My... my father?" "Yes. You said you are Stacy. Is your father not Dr. Peterson?" I nodded softly, pulling my hand from his arm and lifting it to my forehead. I had no idea what was happening and suddenly felt light-headed. "My father, he... he died six months ago, Achilles. Have you been down here all this time?" "Yes, since he last left me." he replied, his tone unchanged from its calm timbre. "How is that possible?" I asked. "Haven't you left? How have you survived?" His forearm lifted from the table and he pointed up. My eyes followed his finger to a large lamp suspended from the ceiling above him. "It's a solar lamp." he explained. "It turns on eight hours a day; my skin absorbs its energy in a process similar to photosynthesis. It is the only energy I need for survival." Things were really getting weird now. "Wh-what, I mean, who are you?" He sat up on the table, hanging his legs over the side. "I told you, I am Achilles. I was born here, where your father made me. Now that he is dead, I wonder what is to become of me?" I noticed there was no remorse in his voice over Dad's demise, though whatever he was he clearly he understood the concept of death. "I don't really know, Achilles. You said my father made you. Are you a robot or something?" I wondered if he was insane, because he was clearly too real to be a robot. That kind of stuff only existed in movies "No, I am completely biological. I was created in this lab, from various human DNA samples. However, that DNA was radically altered to make me the perfect human. Your father was trying to use my blood to find a cure for the genetic disease that killed your sister." That seemed more plausible, though still a little sci-fi "H-how old are you?" Achilles tilted his head curiously, "What is the date?" "Um.. July... " I stammered. "July seventh. Two-thousand nine." "Then I am three years, two months, and twenty three days old." I blinked. It was all so surreal. It wasn't possible, was it? He appeared to be older than I was, mid-twenties perhaps. "Um, you look a lot older than three, Achilles." "Yes. I was engineered to grow and learn rapidly, within a special chamber that your father invented, though I have since begun aging normally." He pointed again, across the room. There was a steel chamber large enough for a person to lay in; it resembled a round coffin, with dozens of tubes and wires hooked up to it "Th-that's amazing. I mean, if that's true, you're quite amazing." "Thank you." he said, with a smile. "Do I belong to you now?" That question about floored me. What was I going to do with him? What could I do? I wasn't even sure what he was. "I don't know, Achilles. I suppose so. I should probably take you home until we can figure out what to do. I mean, I can't leave you here." "Okay." he replied easily, rising from the table to stand easily a foot taller than me. I suddenly remembered he was still fully naked. "Um, do you have any clothes, Achilles?' "No." "Oh. Uh... okay." I looked around the room and spotted a long white lab coat. "There, why don't you put that lab coat on? I can't have you riding around in my Jeep naked." After loading the boxes containing my father's effects, I led Achilles out to the Jeep, looking about to make sure no one was watching us. As I drove us towards home I noticed he was looking around with child-like curiosity, as though everything was new to him. I wasn't sure what to say to him and remained quiet. My thoughts were hardly coherent anyway. I had no idea what to do with him, or if I should tell anyone about him. Clearly my father kept his existence a secret; otherwise Achilles would have been global news. An artificial human... was it even possible? He was watching the other cars drive by when I finally spoke, "Achilles, have you ever been out of the lab?" "Only on a few rare occasions." he replied. "Your father wanted to keep me a secret." "Do you know much about the world? You... I mean, you talk fairly normally, and you obviously know about Greek tales..." "Yes. I have an adaptive intelligence with a broad knowledge base." Then he added, with a hint of remorse in his voice, "...but little actual experience." I glanced aside, suddenly feeling sorry for him. He was still staring wide-eyed through the car windows as I turned onto the suburban street of my house. I noted how absolutely beautiful he was, with his innocent expression and physical perfection. I had to hand it to my father, if he really had created Achilles he had done a damn fine job. He was perfect looking. I pulled the Jeep right into the garage and hit the remote button so the door would close behind us. I didn't need my neighbors seeing me with a barefoot guy in a lab coat. I'm sure they thought me a crazy shut-in as it was, and I didn't want to add any more weirdness to their opinions. Achilles kept looking at every little common thing when I led him into the house, as though the world outside Dad's lab fascinated him. I took him up to my parent's old room first, I hadn't done anything with it since their death, and I found some of Dad's clothes that looked like they might fit Achilles. "Why don't you try these on." I said, handing him a pair of jeans and a plain button shirt. He removed the lab coat and stood naked. "If you wish." I blushed when handing the clothes over, trying to keep from staring at his perfect body. He was like a Greek god and seemed to have no shame in his nudity. "Do you need anything else? Something to eat? Are you thirsty?" He turned to set the clothes on the bed, giving me a view of his chiseled buttocks and I couldn't look away. "No thank you, Stacy. As I told you earlier, the only energy source I require is sunlight." "Oh, right." I furrowed my brow, still confused and uncertain about the whole situation. "But you're still basically human though, right?" He turned around, still unclothed, and I had to concentrate just to keep my eyes on his. "Don't I look human?" That gave me an excuse to look him over and my eyes roamed over his form. He was so sexy. It had been a long time since I had thought of a man that way, and I must have been flushed, as he noticed. "Are you okay, Stacy? You seem disorientated." "I-I'm fine, Achilles. I guess I'm just not used to having naked men in the house. Especially ones that are as... attractive as you are." He lifted a hand to my cheek then, touching my skin with the back of his fingertips. I felt a charge from the feel of him, a surge of attraction. "So it is arousal that colors your face?" I coughed at his bluntness, but at the same time I found it refreshing. I saw no reason to be dishonest with him. "Yes, Achilles. I suppose it is." "I've never felt arousal. Is it a pleasant experience?" I stared into his eyes, which were very easy to get lost in. "It can be." I liked the way he looked back, focused on me as though I were the only thing he could see. "I suppose you've never... um, been with a girl?" "I was with your father's lab assistant almost every day." His comment made me laugh. It felt good to laugh, and I realized at that moment it had been a while since I had done so. "I mean sexually." I clarified. "No." he replied, with just a hint of sorrow in his deep voice. "Though I am curious." My heart was fluttering. It had been since before my parent's accident since I had company, much less sex. I had broken up with my boyfriend shortly after my parent's accident and hadn't so much as touched a man in the six months following, and I couldn't deny that Achilles was one of the most attractive men I had ever looked at. My body was telling me to take advantage of his presence, but my mind struggled with the morality of it. He appeared as a fully grown man, but he had such an inexperienced naiveté to him. I believed every word he said, about being an artificial creation of my father's, and I wondered where such a person could fit into the boundaries of human relationships. "Well, um... what are you curious about?" I asked. "What it feels like, if I can even experience arousal." I decided it was wrong for him not to know such a thing, regardless of what he was. At least that was my justification to myself for peeling my top off and casting it to the floor. The truth was that I wanted him, more than I had ever wanted another man, and something inside me craved his attention. I didn't care what he was, or how he was born or created or whatever. He looked like a man, a bit of a naive man to be sure, but an incredibly sexy man all the same. My breasts are small, just like the rest of my frame, so I rarely wear a bra. They provide a handful, no more, but that would be enough. I let him absorb my partial nakedness for a few moments, then I took a step closer to Achilles and gently reached for his wrist. "Let's find out how much of a man you are." He watched me with curiosity as I lifted his hand to my chest, placing his palm over the roundness of my breast. I could feel my nipple stiffen against the center of his grip. He blinked rapidly a few times, seemingly mesmerized by the sensation of my chest against his hand. "Its okay, Achilles. You can touch me. How do I feel?" "Very pleasant." I smiled, "Good." and stepped into him closer, encouraging his other hand to circle about me. My head was level with his upper chest and I inhaled his scent, he smelled nice and it sent a shiver through me. "Can I touch you too?" "Yes." he agreed, voice softer now. I leaned against him sideways, leaving him access to my breast for his groping palm, and reached down to take his penis into my hand. "You're so beautiful." I told him. "Every inch of you." "You are too." he replied, though I wondered if he meant it. I felt his member begin to harden as I slowly caressed and squeezed it; before long I had hold of a proud erection. "I'm not sure, Achilles, but it looks to me like you can feel arousal just fine." His breathing had sharpened, probably with unfamiliarity to what he was experiencing, but he gave me the most charming little smile. "Your hand feels wonderful on my reproductive organ." I giggled, and glided my fingertips along the length of his penis, which was soon fully hard and twitching. "This is your 'cock', sweetie." "My cock?" he asked. "Yes. That word is a bit vulgar for public use, but its okay to say when it's just the two of us." "I understand." he said, still lightly groping my breast and ogling me curiously. Lifting to my tippy-toes I brought a light caress of my lips to the side of his jaw line and whispered "Have you ever had an orgasm, Achilles?" I knew the answer to that, of course. I'd never been with a virgin, and it was charming. "No." came his own whisper. I felt an uncontrollable need to give him one. "Why don't you sit down on the bed, okay?" "Okay." Achilles let go of me and sat back onto the edge of my parent's old bed and I knelt before him, smoothing my hands along his strong thighs. Earlier I thought his legs appeared hairless, but he actually had the finest little blonde hairs that decorated his tanned skin. Eventually my hands returned to his erection, which was just long enough for me to get both hands around. He had a large mushroom head with a perfect crowning ridge, and his scrotum was taut and had the same fine hairs as his legs. His cock was gorgeous. "Is this how we procreate?" he asked, the slightest quiver to his voice. I chuckled at him, "Do you know much about sex?" "Just what I learned on the internet." I laughed, "Then you should be well-educated, but no sweetie. This is just a hand-job." I leaned forward, my pony tail falling to the side of my head, and enveloped just the head of him between my lips, licking the end of it. He gasped, which told me I was doing well, so I continued to suckle him this way while slowly stroking the length of his shaft with one hand. His erection was smooth and warm, which made it easy for my hand to glide up and down it. I was gentle and attentive, pausing every so often to kiss or lick his sensitive underside, which made it twitch in the most wondrous way. Before long he began leaking his sticky pre-cum, which I used to lubricate my activities. I even tasted it, letting a strand stretch between the head of his cock and the tip of my tongue. "Stacy..." he said breathlessly, "Something is happening to me." My mouth left him and I looked up at his eyes. I about melted at the way he was looking at me, for his gaze held absolute affection. "It's okay Achilles." I said, still masturbating him. "This is what arousal feels like." He continued to watch me with rapt attention. "I think I like arousal." "The sensation will climax when you ejaculate." I instructed. "Don't worry, it's perfectly normal." I had hoped it was normal for him, anyways. I wasn't even sure if his body worked the same as a normal human male. It turned out that I didn't have to wait for very long, because shortly after I sped up my stroking motions he issued a subdued yelp and his orgasm came. A long rope of his seminal fluid shot straight up for several inches, landing across my hand and wrist. He gasped and another rope flew just as high, which landed across his thigh. I kept pumping my fist, squeezing his penis tightly as it issued more fluid which simply flowed out the tip of his cock and streamed all over my fingers. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes had never left me through the entire experience. Achilles Ch. 01 "How did that feel?" I asked softly. He struggled to find the words. "It felt very... urgent." I laughed at him, "Yes, an orgasm can sort of creep up on you like that. Did it feel good?" "It was extremely pleasurable. I must admit, your father's lab assistant never did that to me." I laughed again, "I bet not." "Thank you, Stacy, for showing me what arousal feels like." The sincerity in his voice touched me, "You're welcome, Achilles." My own arousal was driving me crazy, but I didn't want to push things. It was bad enough that I had just given a hand-job to a man I barely knew (if he was even a man at all). I realized at that moment, however, that I wasn't going to tell anyone about him. At least for a while. I knew that if the public were to learn the true nature of his existence that Achilles would become nothing more than an object, a science experiment. I was sure someone would try to take him from me, and the thought of him leaving was a surprisingly awful one. I had been alone for too long and needed his company very badly. I wanted to know more about him. After we got ourselves cleaned up, I arranged the guest room for Achilles. I realized that he literally had nothing for possessions and that we would need to go to the mall and get him some clothes and other essentials. I'd also need to come up with a cover story to explain why he was staying at the house, in case anyone I knew saw him and started asking questions. I privately hoped Achilles didn't mind fibbing, and was capable of lying. The sudden distraction of tending to him freed me from the depression of my parent's death, at least temporarily. It was the first time in a long time that I wasn't constantly thinking about them or the fact that I was all alone. He gave me a sense of purpose I had been lacking. We didn't talk much as I made the preparations for him to stay, but he watched everything I did with close attention. Every so often he would pick something up, like a candle or a book, and study it as though he were looking at an alien artifact. He watched television as I had a small dinner, though he changed the channels so frequently that I wondered if he was able to absorb any of it. I couldn't sleep that night, as my mind was a mess of thoughts. I wondered if Achilles was able to sleep, or if he even needed to sleep. It bothered me to think of him laying in the guest room bed just to amuse me; I made a mental note to ask him about that in the morning. I don't know how much time passed before I started dozing off, but just as I was starting to fall asleep I sensed his presence. I turned to the doorway of my bedroom and saw Achilles standing there, watching me. "Achilles?" I asked, propping myself up onto an elbow. "Is everything all right?" "Do you think I am capable of love?" he asked. My heart sank. I had no idea, of course, and that was a pretty deep question to be asking in the middle of the night. "I don't know." I answered honestly. "Have you ever been in love?" he asked. I sat up in bed, my quilt pooling in my lap. My mind wandered back to my last boyfriend, the second of two in my life. I had liked him a lot, and we had been sexually active, but I couldn't say I was ever truly in love with him. "I'm not sure. I don't think so." "If you've never experienced love, how can you know what it feels like?" He was getting even deeper, and well beyond my limited philosophical expertise. "I think you just kind of know when it happens, Achilles. I'm not sure a feeling like love can be quantified by words or anything else." He was silent for several moments, still standing in the doorway. Then he finally asked "Am I interrupting your sleep?" "No, actually I was having trouble sleeping. What about you?" "I don't require sleep." I was afraid of that. "What were you doing when I found you, earlier today?" "I was waiting." "Right, I'm sorry. I forgot." I pressed a palm against my temple, something I often do when trying to figure things out. "You don't have to lay in the guest room, you know. You can do whatever you want, Achilles. Watch TV... read a book... I want you to make yourself at home." "May I lay with you?" he asked. I don't know why, but the thought of sharing a bed with him greatly appealed to me. I felt no fear of him. In fact, I experienced a great amount of attraction that grew every moment I was with him. It almost felt like there was a connection between us, something ephemeral that I couldn't explain despite it being extremely tangible somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach. I slid over in my bed and lifted the quilt invitingly, "If you like." He entered the bed beside me, his eyes never leaving me as he did so. I became acutely aware of his nudity. Didn't he ever wear clothes? "I promise not to disturb your sleep." he whispered. I laid my head back onto the pillow, turning on my side to face him. His position mirrored mine and we were face to face, close enough that I could sense his breath. There were a million questions I wanted to ask him, and decided to start with just one. "Achilles, do you know how unique you are?" "Yes." came his deep voice, softened by our proximity. "Your father told me there were none other like me, that I needed to keep my origin a secret." "But you told me?" "You are Dr. Peterson's daughter, I assumed you knew." I gave a little shake of my head, "He never told me about you. But don't worry, I intend on keeping your secret." "What is to become of me?" "You're free to do whatever you wish, Achilles. I don't know what your arrangement was with my father, and I certainly don't know anything about genetics to continue his work, but I'll try to help you do whatever you like." "May I stay here, with you?" My breath caught. I was hoping he'd ask that. The thought of him leaving, despite the fact that I had just met him, was strangely unbearable. "Yes. As long as you like." I felt his hand between us then, and he placed it over one of my breasts. He felt it through the silk of my nightie, all the while holding the sweetest expression of innocence. I didn't stop him, his touch electrified me and suddenly I was no longer tired. "I like touching you." My words barely escaped my throat, "And I like being touched by you, Achilles. I like it very much" The gap between our faces slowly, agonizingly, closed. Our lips met and I began to kiss him. He was inexperienced and his mouth fumbled against mine for a moment, but he learned quickly and soon the kiss grew more heated. His hand tightened on my breast and I curled an arm about his side to hold him closer. We continued kissing for a long while, I don't know how much time passed, and my body began to yearn for him. "Achilles..." I gasped, breaking the kiss. "Yes?" I tried to breathe. "You're driving me crazy." "I apologize." he said. "Am I doing something wrong?" "No, no it's just... you're making me aroused. Extremely aroused." "I think I'm aroused too. Do you want me to stop?" "I don't know. I don't think so." He gave me a quizzical look. The poor guy, I was confusing the hell out of him. "Lie back." I said. He did so, and I slid over him, letting my nightie ride up over my hips. My dark hair spilled to a cascade around my head as I looked down at his beautiful face and ran a hand over his short blonde hair. He stared back with obvious affection. "Stay still, okay?" He nodded, and I reached down between us, grasping his penis. It was taut and warm in my hand as I guided it between my straddling legs. I maneuvered myself just so, positioning him to the entrance of my sex, then slid down on him. His eyes closed and mouth opened as his erection entered me, filled me, and I could see the pleasure in his face. "Guess what?" I murmured. His eyes opened to my question. "You're no longer a virgin." I teased. "Stacy... I can feel you... all around me. You feel so... so..." "Yes?" I pressed, starting to rock my hips slowly. "Wet." I laughed softly, "That's what happens when I get aroused. Do I feel good?" "Oh yes." he assured me. "This is equally as pleasurable as your hands." I lowered my torso to kiss him again, and this time he responded with more skill. I felt his firm hands grip my sides, just above my hips. He got the sense of my rhythm and started to gently thrust against me. His cock felt exquisite inside of me, as though we were a perfect fit. "You're doing great, sweetie." I encouraged. "Go ahead and touch me. Feel my body." He didn't need any other encouragement and began exploring my frame with his hands. They slid over my thighs, hips, and he squeezed my buttocks with a firm grip. The smile on his face was brilliant, incredible, and I laughed as we slowly made love. The friction of our union was getting to me, and I felt an orgasm slowly building. It started with a tingling sensation wherever he touched me, slowly spreading to my legs. By breathing sped up and I lifted my torso, propping myself up with hands planted upon his muscled chest. He stared at me in obvious arousal with those gorgeous blue eyes of his and I knew it wouldn't be long... "Achilles..." I moaned, increasing the pace of my thrusts. All the sounds out of my throat after that were wordless coos and groans as my orgasm consumed me. My vagina quivered around his shaft with the violence of my pleasure and I heard him scream out my name. I was only faintly aware of the heat that filled my insides, the wet warmth of his semen as he came deeply within me. I collapsed onto his chest and felt his strong arms wrap around me, sensed his ragged breath in my hair. We lay that way, our sweat mingling, until I felt his erection softening, still inside me. Our coupling happened so quickly that I muttered a silent prayer, hoping that it wasn't a dream. He finally broke the silence. "Can I lay with you every night?" I laughed against his chest and kissed his salty skin. "Yes, Achilles. Every night from now on." Achilles Ch. 02 It was just after lunch time when I heard the doorbell ring. I assumed it was a neighbor, or possibly the UPS man, and was curious when I saw it was an older looking gentleman in a black suit. I opened the door and greeted him. "Can I help you?" "Hello Miss Peterson. My name is Gordon Wyatt. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time?" The professional tone of his voice, and the fact that he seemed to know me, put me on edge. He sounded like a police detective and I was suddenly wary, making no indication that I was inclined to let him in. "What is it I can do for you?" "I am an attorney." he said. "My firm represents a small genetics research company that is interested in your father's work. I wanted to talk to you about a project he was working on before your parent's death." I stiffened, worried this had something to do with Achilles. It had been three weeks since I brought him home from my father's lab; he was in the back, sunning himself on the deck, which he had done for a couple of hours every day . Sunlight was the only energy Achilles needed to survive; he hadn't eaten or slept since entering my life. While it was unusual and I was still getting used to his strange physiology, it certainly cut down on grocery costs. "I'm sorry Mr. Wyatt. I don't know much about the work my father did, I'm not sure I can be of much help to you." The lie came easily. "Did he ever mention anything called the 'Achilles Project'?" I tried to keep my cool and did my best to offer a blank expression. "No, he didn't. I'm sorry, I never took much of an interest in father's work." I could tell by his expression that Mr. Wyatt didn't believe me. "I see. What about his lab, can you give me any indication as to what you'll be doing with it and its contents?" "It's not for sale, if that's what you mean." I told him. After finding Achilles I had decided not to sell the lab, as I was sure doing so would cause too many questions. I wanted to keep the fact that Achilles was an artificially created human a secret, and was worried that father's lab would hold too much evidence. If the fact that Achilles was the first person ever created and grown in a lab, he would become nothing more than a science experiment. I couldn't have that. Achilles was a person, not a thing. Living with him for almost a month had shown me the truth of that very clearly. "My clients are willing to make an extremely lucrative offer, Miss Peterson." "And just who are your clients?" I asked, a slightly annoyed tone to my voice. "I'm sorry, I can't divulge that to you." "Then I'm afraid we don't have anything more to talk about, Mr. Wyatt. You'll simply have to tell your clients that my father's lab isn't for sale. His work, and any projects, died with him seven months ago." "How unfortunate. Very well, Miss Peterson. Have a pleasant afternoon." He turned away from the door, but paused and looked back to me. "By the way, Gloria Miller sends her regards." I'm sure the color left my face. I quickly shut the door and turned the deadbolt. Gloria Miller. I knew that name. She worked for my father as his lab assistant. She was an intelligent woman, in her thirties, quiet and a little mousey. She had her doctorate in genetics and had worked for my father since her days at university. In his work, Gloria was my father's right hand. I quickly moved through the house and opened the back door to the large deck, where Achilles was sitting in nothing but a pair of shorts. His tanned skin looked marvelous in the sun, and he smiled to me, though his expression slowly sobered when he saw the look on my face. "Stacy, is something the matter?" he asked in that melodic deep voice of his. "Achilles, when we first met you mentioned that you were with one of my father's lab assistants almost every day. What was her name?" "Gloria." I leaned back against the doorjamb and pressed a palm to my temple. How stupid I was! Of course Gloria knew about Achilles, and his origins. Gordon Wyatt invoking her name could only mean one thing: she was talking to someone. It would be hard to keep Achilles' secret with her around, as I could only assume Gloria was selling information. Whoever Gordon Wyatt represented obviously knew about Achilles and wanted to get their hands on him. My only consolation was that they probably wanted to keep him a secret as well, for now, until they could study whatever it was that made him special. The fact that an attorney was at my door, and not the media, was partial evidence of that. "Achilles, we have to go." He rose from the lounge chair and approached me. "What is wrong Stacy?" "There was a man here, a lawyer. He said he represents some genetics company, but wouldn't tell me who. They've been talking to Gloria, and I'm worried that she's told them about you. They might be watching us, so we need to get you someplace safe." "Where will we go?" "We'll go to the cabin. It's a couple hours north of the city and secluded. Then we can figure out what to do next." "All right." Achilles agreed easily. "I'll go pack my things we bought at the mall the other day. Should I bring my toothbrush?" I exhaled a quiet laugh. Achilles was so charmingly naïve at times. I kissed his cheek and said "Yes baby, pack all your things. We'll wait until dark and go tonight." My parents had owned our cabin ever since I was a little girl. We went there almost every weekend during the summer, and as I drove my Jeep north on 35W I recalled what a wonderful time we always had swimming, fishing, and water skiing. I missed those days. Missed my parents. Dad was always so sure of what to do in a crisis. I remember thinking I could've used his advice, as Achilles and I left Minneapolis. He was playing with the radio, switching stations around before finally settling on a talk station, when I asked, "Achilles, did anyone other than Gloria and my father know you were genetically engineered?" He shook his head, "No, I don't believe so. Other people saw me from time to time, though your father and his assistant were the only ones who ever came down to the basement where you found me." "When I found you, you said he had created you to find a cure for the disease that killed my sister. Do you know how he was trying to do that, exactly?" "He wasn't trying, Stacy. He did it." I glanced at him, "What do you mean?" "The white cells in my bloodstream have the capacity to stimulate rapid healing and regeneration. They even have the ability to alter a person's DNA and correct any abnormalities to a more baseline code. Since your father made my blood type a universal one, it's likely that a simple blood transfusion from me could heal someone from almost any wound or disease." "My god, Achilles. That's amazing... but why didn't you tell me that earlier?" "You never seemed very interested in your father's work." I reached over and squeezed his hand. "Fair enough." I marveled at him. Yes, sometimes Achilles seemed almost child-like in his inexperience with the world, but then there were moments like that one where he betrayed his incredible intelligence. That dichotomy was one of the reasons I was in love with him. And I /was/ in love with him, body and soul. In the three weeks we had spent together Achilles shared my bed every night, where we would talk and make love. After our sexual activities he would hold me until I fell asleep, even though he didn't need to sleep himself, remaining with me until I woke the next morning. I loved him, and I was terribly afraid he would be taken from me. It was after midnight when we arrived at the cabin. It was situated on Lake Mille Lacs, a large lake in central Minnesota. There were other cabins nearby, though like mine they were mainly weekend getaways. It was the middle of the week and I didn't see that anyone else was around. The cabin is very nice, big enough to serve as a second home, and a beautiful woodland reserve is just across the gravel road that gave access. I parked the Jeep in the single-car garage and Achilles and I headed in. While I unpacked some things Achilles was standing in front of a large window that over-looked the lake. I couldn't resist approaching him and putting my arms around him, laying the side of my face against his strong shoulders. "You feel nice." I said, sliding my hands over the contours of his chest and stomach, feeling his tight muscles through the tee he was wearing. After the stress of the day, it felt good to embrace him in the peaceful environs of the quiet cabin. He laid his hands over my arms, "You do as well, Stacy. I like your cabin, it is very quiet. Will we be able to share a bed here as well?" I smiled against his back. Typical male, I thought, artificial or not. "Of course. In fact, I should probably get some sleep. It's late and I'll be able to think more clearly in the morning, we can decide then what to do next." Achilles helped me finish unpacking our things before we retired . I surprised myself by taking us to the room my parents had used, rather than my room, but my bed was only a single and two bodies would have been cramped. I had taken on the habit of sleeping in the nude since Achilles entered my life, which he seemed to prefer. It was easier anyways, as we inevitably engaged in lovemaking every night. "I don't want you to worry." I said, pulling the light quilt over us. "I'm going to keep you safe, Achilles." He slid closer to me and I turned just-so, allowing him to spoon my naked body with his. He wrapped his strong arms around my slight frame and I could feel his soft penis against my buttocks. "I am not worried, Stacy." I sighed. His embrace soothed me, took away some of my worry of losing him. His arms felt like my own personal castle, warm and safe. He kissed my neck, nuzzling me through the mess of my dark hair, and his hand began to explore my body. It glided over my hip and stomach, finally coming to rest one on one of my smallish breasts. It fit perfectly and entirely into his palm. His hands were always so curious. Curious of my body. He made me feel desired and sexy. I moved a hand around to the small of my back, reaching between us until I found his penis. It was already semi-erect and I privately smiled at his arousal. I held him gently that way, feeling his length stiffen and grow in my grip as he fondled my breast and continued to kiss my neck and shoulder. "Are you wet?" he asked. I giggled at the directness of his question and whispered back, "Yes, your touch always make me wet." His hand left my chest and glided along my rib cage, moving over my hip and along my backside until I felt him between my legs. I mewed a little to show my approval and lifted my leg, giving him better access to my sex. His fingers caressed my mound of neatly trimmed pubic hair and my labia, causing me to lift my leg further, bending it at the knee and propping myself open to his explorations. Though he was improving in sexual skill, Achilles was still inexperienced and often needed a little guidance. I didn't mind. I enjoyed teaching him. "Touch me where my clitoris is, baby. It feels so good right there." He did so and I felt the smooth skin of his finger glide over the hood of my clit, causing me to squirm against him. "Keep rubbing...mmm, yes, that's so nice..." He nibbled at my ear again, which he knew I loved, and I melted into his attentions. His fingers continued to play with my button until my pussy felt like a fountain, wetting the insides of my pale and slender thighs. "Keep doing that..." I instructed, my voice a murmur, "...and put a finger inside me. Oh! Oh, god, yes sweetie that's it...mm. Make love to me with your hand Achilles, please baby, make me come..." He was doing very well, probing my depths with a finger while stimulating my hardening clitoris. I kept muttering 'faster' and 'faster' until his hand was obscenely plunging into me repeatedly. The room began to spin so I just closed my eyes at the let the orgasm wash over me. I moaned like a feline in heat, writhing against his body and fingers, reaching back to clutch at his hip and buttocks. When I recovered he was still nuzzling at my neck, which suddenly tickled, so I giggled and pinched my shoulder and cheek together against his head. I felt his hand caressing the inside of my thigh and it was soaked with my love; my orgasm had been a powerful one. "That was beautiful, Achilles, it felt wonderful." "I am happy you enjoyed it." I turned in his arms to face him, brushing the dark tendrils of hair out of my face. "Let me do you baby. Would you like me to use my hand too?" "You should get some rest, Stacy. It has been a stressful day." I pressed a gentle kiss against him, nothing more than a brief contact of our lips. "That's sweet, but I want to. Besides, if I don't, I'm going to feel your boner poking into me all night." That made him laugh, a sound I was growing to crave. He was starting to get used to my quirky sense of humor, one of the reasons I knew he was more than a mere test tube creation. "I love you, Achilles." The words just slipped out. Maybe it was the ease I felt when I was with him. Maybe it was the orgasm making me dizzy, but as soon as I spoke them, I froze. I had never used those words before with him. The momentary silence between us was a little uncomfortable as he just looked at me. I could tell he was struggling with the concept of love and didn't know how to react. "It's okay baby." I assured him, finally breaking the tension and reaching down to take hold of his hard penis. "Stacy, I...." "Shh, it's okay. Let me pleasure you. You don't have to say anything." I nudged him to lay on his back, while I laid beside him. My hand was slowly stroking the length of his erection and I began kissing his chest, briefly nibbling on one of his nipples. I felt his fingers slip into the tangle of my hair and I laid my head against his torso to face down towards his cock, where my hand continued to gently caress him. I used my thumb to stimulate his crowning ridge, alternating between teasing his head and slowly pumping his shaft. I loved staring at his erection, it was so smooth and beautiful and proud. Achilles truly was physically perfect in every way. His pre-cum began to glisten against his skin as I used it to lubricate my work, smearing it all around his member with the palm of my hand. I could feel his heartbeat increase against my cheek, through his chest, and I quickened the pace of my jacking motion. "Stacy..." he moaned. "You give me such pleasure." I smiled softly and teasingly slowed my hand, wanting to drag out that pleasure. I even paused to take his scrotum into my hand and squeeze that as well, which caused his cock to spasm and twitch. "I want to watch you come." I told him. "I love watching you come, the way your cock offers up its pleasure. It's intoxicating." He moaned as I took his shaft into my grip once again and began jacking him off in earnest. Over the last week I had learned that he liked a little dirty talk with our sex, another sign that he was very much human. "Will you come for me Achilles?" I cooed in the sexiest tone of voice I could muster. "I want to see your cock show me how good my hand feels. Go ahead baby, come for me. Come all over your sexy tummy for me." His moans grew louder and I could feel his erection pulse in my hand. "That's it baby, I can feel it. Let it go, let all that sweet come shoot out." His entire body stiffened, and the moans became grunts. His cock seemed to expand in my hand and I held my breath in anticipation, ceasing my stroking motion and simply squeezing tightly around it. My surprise was complete when the first ejection hurled past his stomach all the way up to land against my face, causing me to squeal. More landed across his abs in long roping beads, wet and glistening against his tan skin. The last of it leaked out over my thumb and wrist, some of it mingling into the short stubs of his shaved pubic hair. His breathing was heavy, as though he had just run a marathon, and his body was still. "My god, Achilles." I laughed. "I don't think you've ever come so hard." I leaned up, wiped the fluid of his sex off my cheek and smiled at him. "Your words, they enhanced my arousal." "That's dirty talk, sweetie. I know how much you like it." He nodded with a smile of his own. He held me all night long, as he had done every night since we met. I remember dreaming about people coming to take him away, evil faceless men in lab coats pulling Achilles from my arms. When I woke, I was relieved to feel his arms around me. I cuddled into his embrace, enjoying his warmth and scent. We made love again that morning, and despite the uncomfortable moment the night previous, when I told him I loved him, I could sense his affection plainly in the way he touched me. He didn't have to say it, I could sense it. While I made myself some breakfast, Achilles went out back to get some sun. I watched him through the kitchen window as he walked out onto the dock, and I laughed when he nearly fell in while curiously bending over the edge. He must have seen some fish. His constant curiosity charmed me beyond description. I wondered then what we would do. I couldn't let him fall into the hands of Gordon Wyatt and whomever he represented, but I knew we couldn't stay here either. The cabin was in my name and it was only a matter of time, probably a short time, before they'd find us, which I assumed they would. If they knew about Achilles I realized he would represent a vast amount of wealth to whoever discovered the secrets coursing within his veins. They wouldn't just give up. Maybe we could run, I thought, to another country far away. My parents had left me with plenty of money to do so. My thoughts were interrupted by the front door being kicked in. I screamed when I saw a man dressed in black, camouflage make-up decorating his face. I jumped up from the kitchen table as he bolted through the living room towards me. He had a handgun. I turned to the counter and fumbled for a weapon, anything I could use against the intruder. My hand closed around the frying pan I had used to make eggs, but the man was too fast. He grabbed me from behind, pinning my arms against my sides and pulled me away from the counter, causing the pan to fall to the tiled floor in a useless clatter. I screamed again, hoping Achilles would hear me and run for safety. But he didn't run, not away. He sprinted towards the house, faster than I'd ever seen anyone move. The window of the sliding glass door shattered as Achilles leaped right through it and into the kitchen, only five feet from us. "Let her go!" he screamed angrily. My assailant threw me aside to deal with the sudden appearance of Achilles, causing me to lose my balance and fall to the floor. He lifted his gun, but Achilles was the quicker, knocking the weapon out of the intruder's hand. Achilles punched him in the stomach, then punched him again in the face, knocking the man back into the refrigerator. I found my frying pan then and used it, whacking the hard steel over the intruder's head, knocking him out. Achilles was next to me in a flash, helping me up. "Stacy, we must go, come on." We barely got out of the kitchen when another man appeared through the front door, dressed the same as the first intruder. He had a gun as well, aimed right at me. Achilles pushed me aside when the man fired in my direction, taking the bullet. I screamed in anguish as I saw the shot enter Achilles' stomach and exit out of his back. "Shit!" the intruder cursed, as he had obviously intended on hitting me. He likely had instructions not to kill Achilles: he was too valuable. But both the second intruder and I were surprised when Achilles snarled in anger, hardly fazed by the gunshot wound. He picked up my father's old reclining chair as though it were a sack of feathers. It must have weighed four hundred pounds, but Achilles threw it across the room easily. It blasted against our assailant and smashed him against the wall with such force that the drywall cracked behind him. The blow surely killed him instantly.