The first week of September arrived: the hot summer days were shortened. In the afternoon, thick gray clouds descended from the north and cloaked the landscape with a colder, metallic light: often it rained, and Lisa stayed at home, watching the drops slipping on the windows.
Boredom ticked the hours she spent int the villa: but this unwanted companion, which usually becomes a habit, however, had become for Lisa a sort of pleasant indulgence. Her thoughts, if not her actions, were still filled by the presence of Milena, and it was the same for her too.
Their relationship had grown in all directions and had turned into the kind of deep friendship that can only develop out of the ordinary situations, such as the one that they were experiencing.
To this, one must add that their sexual relationship ended up with an almost perfect sexual harmony; every day, even if it was boring, culminated in a so intense and enjoyable physical relationship to let them dazed and sleepy for hours. For Lisa, who had never had a relationship of any kind, nor sentimental and least of all sexual, what she was experiencing was absolutely unique and valuable.
She willingly would have agreed to spend, in the boredom of that house, all the rest of her life, if somebody could ensure her that the next day would be equal to the previous one.
That Sunday morning, Lisa woke up unusually early for her habits: she had come downstairs for first, when the house was still shrouded in silence: Gunther had left the previous day and , like every Sunday, the staff was at rest.
She had breakfast while thinking for that very day: medicine, tests, mechanical stimulation. Her breasts were growing, week by week, although they were still far from the gigantic size of Milena’s, and they had tentatively begun to produce a few drops of milk. The grueling milking sessions resolved with a little more than a half cup of liquid per part, but the professor was saying that her progresses were very encouraging.
The laboratory was, as every Sunday, deserted: the large windows were flooding it with the cold light of that sunny morning. Order and absolute silence. Lisa had gone there just for that very reason.
Since this whole incredible story had began, or to be more precise from that day when she met Dr. Bohm for the first time, Lisa had this persistent idea that continued to work in her brain. The images of Greta, the DDR girl that many years before had gone under the treatments of the Professor, these images were often present before her , when she lied on the bed with eyes closed. That same morning, in the semi-unconscious state that anticipate the wake, she had dreamed of her: the enormity of those breasts didn’t have any compare in reality, even with those, however immense, of Milena. Taking advantage of the calm of that high day, she had proposed herself to go down in the offices of the laboratory to discover the truth.
She knew where was the desk of Professor Bohm and she walked to it with decision: she opened the drawers without difficulty, the key was inserted, and looked through the papers. The green folder was not there, just as it was logical that it was. Only notes, medical journals, nothing else. Then her eyes fell on the computer screen, on the table beside. She felt an almost imperceptible hum coming from below, leaned, and saw, in the tower at the floor, a little flashing green light. She switched on the video, and after a few seconds, right in the center it appeared the message: "Do you really want to turn off the computer?"
Lisa knew that the whole computer system was password protected, but apparently the previous evening someone had forgot to turn it off, and the computer was simply left on standby.
She took the mouse, moved the cursor on "no" and clicked.
User: Dr. Stephan Bohm.
Task manager.
View folders.
Sessions IV year examinations.
Exam Session V year.
University lecture notes.
Protocols.
Students.
The labyrinth of Daedalus. This was a computer for the eyes of a stranger. Thousands of files, one inside each other, like concentric circles: corridors, rooms, corridors, doors that opened on other doors.
They had left the key under the dorma; in fact, even the ajar door. But from this to find what she was looking for ...
She did a quick search with the name of Greta. Nothing.
DDR. Six files. Lisa took a look at them quickly, but there was nothing that had relevance to the experiments of the 70s.
70 years ... suddenly it flashed through her mind, as if she was looking at it before her, the registration number of the medical records: Greta SV 14279.
She didn’t know if that number represented a date, but February 14, 1979 was the day when Lisa was born. SV, Saint Valentine. Looking back at that moment, even that seemed really a twist of fate.
She typed the letters, the number and the research program visualized it there, on the screen.
SV14279.pdf: the graphical representation of the medical records of Greta, the girl of the DDR.
Lisa opened file after a moment of hesitation.
At first she saw the photos that had so affected her. She noted, unlike the first time, how much that girl was thin despite the disproportionate size of the breasts.
Then the medical record, typed: Greta Bauer, born in Rostock, 24/05/52. Anthropometric measures before the start of the protocol: height. 172, 107 bust, waist 75, hips 112.
There followed a series of impressive physical data for thoroughness, and then a precise description of treatment and drugs that were administered daily.
Lastly, in the last handwritten pages, the course of the patient during the therapy.
March 3. After the first week, the patient seems to respond well to treatments. The breasts have a turgid consistency and show a swollen areolas.
March 12. Started on intravenous treatment with THR11 intake. The subject is well prepared and cooperative.
March 19. After a week of THR11, there was a visible increase in the breasts. Having no side effects worth of mentioning, the dose is increased to 500 mg ...
April 2 ... The subject is entered into a state of amenorrhea, probably not reversible. Flanked therapy with gastro. The person accused mild symptoms of gastric ulcers. The diameter of the breast is 122 cm ...
April 8 ... Continue hormone therapy: attached to the THR11 the TSG23, which has shown excellent results on test animals. The mechanical stimulation causes fissures: steroid ointment prescribed by ...
April 21 ... Milk production has increased exponentially after treatment with TGS23. The subject indicates vitamin deficiencies or cracking. Prescribed food supplement tablets ...
April 28 ... The subject denotes sudden mood swings, perhaps due to longer treatment and segregation. Prescribed antidepressants in average doses. The anthropometric data are growing within 146 cm ...
May 6 ... Not considering the direction satisfying what now achieved, increased doses of THR11, added TSG47 ...
May 18 ... Milk production reaches the highest so far with 10 liters a day and a weekly average of 51. The surface circulation seems to support the increase in breast tissue ...
May 22 ... Suspended mechanical stimulation for the presence of fissures: presence of bilateral mastitis. Hormone therapy continues as planned ..
May 25 ... The person refuses treatment. Increased the doses of antidepressants up to 800 mg ...
Lisa felt a lump in her stomach: she wanted to stop and curse herself for her curiosity, but she couldn’t ...
June 7th .. Continue feeding and treatment with antidepressants. Hormonal therapy animal continues: reached 168 cm. of breastsize ...
June 16 ... New in maximum daily production with 12.3 liters. Mild signs of breast adipose tissue necrosis, with partial ...
June 23 ... the subject's physical conditions are getting worse: refusal of food and care. Forced administration of intravenous ...
She heard the front door opening in the distance, then the rumors of a walk on the floor of the atrium: someone was coming in the lab: she closed the file in a hurry, looking toward the entrance door ... turned off the video. "Shit, shit ... come on, come on" – she said to the computer rising from the desk and, with her heart pounding like crazy, she headed for the exit. She knew she hadn’t an innocent appearance: couldn’t have, after what she had read.
The door opened and Dr. Bohm, seeing the girl in the lab, he stopped by the door frame: the facial expression was more serious that surprised.
"Hello, Miss Lisa." - he said gravely - "How come you are here in early morning?"
"Ehm ... I was just looking for you, I wanted to ask you some things about therapy ..."
"You should know that I’m never here on Sunday, here at the villa." Those last words came out of his mouth, carefully scanned as heavy boulders.
He stopped still. Then the serious expression broke into a drawn smile.
"Obviously it’s your lucky day: come please, sit down at my desk." So saying, the doctor walked past her. He sat down and immediately threw his eyes on the video. He touched the screen with the back of his hand.
"Come on Lisa, please, sit out here and tell me ..." Lisa sat down, even if she wanted to be somewhere else. She stayed a while in silence, as to find out in her mind the beginning of a speech that was already prepared.
"You see, since I met you, I have a question that I would like to do, but I've never had the opportunity ..." The professor looked at her in silence, hands clasped under his chin.
"On the square, two questions."
"Please ..."
"Why are you conducting these experiments? I mean, you are an esteemed professional in your subject, I don’t think you need fame, or money ... "She looked at him with her head tilted to one side, waiting for a reaction to the words. Bohm smiled.
"Dear Miss: even forgetting that yes, I’m a university professor, but in veterinary medicine (and just between us, I know a lot more, in terms of medicine, of many colleagues dedicated to the human body), let’s say that these experiments are beyond the scope of medicine and certainly they would raise the disapproval, if not worse, of the entire university community. I am careful not to disclose the results of what we are doing on a scientific publication, by subscribing it with my name. And about money, the answer is, again, no: there would be probably plenty of multinational pharmaceutical companies that would pay huge amounts to ensure to millions of women worldwide the growth of the natural breast as that of my assistant Elizabeth ... "
"So?"
"Dear lady, to patent a medicine you must put your signature on it and, consequently, your reputation. You’ll understand that this may pose problems, given the role I have the veterinary science."
"But there must be a reason that drives you to do all that." The doctor looked at her, smiling as usual.
"Not at all, not necesserily there must be a reason. Or rather, not everything should be understandable to all: fate, destiny, divine will are not meant to be encompassed by the poor human nature. What inspires me to continue this research has reason for being in the research itself and nothing else. "
Lisa thought she had understood.
"So ... you like it and that's all."
"I see you have the innate gift of synthesis and, believe me, not everyone has. Maybe 'pleasure' is not the exact word, but the essence it’s that. I would have no interest in knowing that an American housewife of forty in San Diego self-inflicts daily injections to her breasts to force her husband to forget his office noun. I would consider it very trivial and demeaning. And about the other side, the economic one, I believe that money should never be what animates the will of a scientist. "
"My personal satisfaction, my greatest pleasure is to see the human body changed, transformed, also improved, to deny the supremacy of nature over the man. We are the product of millennia of evolution of species; much of what we are we simply owe to the adaptation to the surroundings, if not the fatality. For too long now mankind has allowed nature to decide for him: today men have the ability to radically change their bodies and they must necessarily do it in the near future, if they want to survive. "
He took a long break and sank on his back, a strange grin appeared on his lips.
" I hope you won’t mistake me for the mad scientist of some horror movies." Lisa smiled, embarrassed.
"I would ask you the second request..."
Dr. Bohm leaned toward the computer and tapped with a finger on the spacebar. The machine began to hum. The man narrowed his eyes as to focus on what had appeared on the screen.
"Say ..."
"What happened to Greta?"
Dr. Bohm raised his piercing eyes on Lisa, then looked around at the high windows panes. He began to speak chanting the words.
"... Pasiphae Pasiphae, wife of King Minos of Crete, when the Minoan civilization dominated over all the peoples of the Mediterranean. Beautiful and powerful woman who had everything and everyone at her feet. Pasiphae daughter of Helios, and then demigoddess, as you seem to be on the other hand, in a world of mediocre people. It 's amazing to think how even today, after thousands of years, the Greek myths can be so present and reveal so much of the human nature."
She looked toward the girl.
"You fell in love with a bull, Lisa. White and strong as a bull, as it does not exist in nature. You are in love with a body with superhuman features, because a god sent it from above. Your uneasiness stems from the fact that this seems to be wrong and unnatural. But mind you, there is no sin in your feelings, because they are guided by divine will. The feeling you are living seems to be new and inexplicable: it sounds strange, but I do understand it perfectly, because the two of us share the same admiration for an extraordinary being. I'll tell you another myth that you could find interesting. Do you know the story of Pandora's box? "
Lisa shook her head.
"When Zeus decided to destroy humanity because disappointed by his conduct, he deprived the mankind of the sacred fire: the fire as a symbol of spirituality, but also of the intellectual capacity of men. Prometheus stole the fire to Zeus and gave it back to men. The punishment for this profane affront to Zeus was exemplary, but also subtle. He didn’t affect men with thunders coming from the sky, but he made up everything so that men themselves were the cause of their misfortunes; Pandora received a gift from Zeus: a jar that contained all the evils in the world, with the absolute ban not to open it. The God knew that the woman’s curiosity wouod have the upper hand on the prescribed order, and so it was. Pandora opened her box, throwing humanity into horror and misery. "
He rose suddenly from his chair and began to walk around the desk.
"Hesiod says: and neverending sorrows wander among men, and the earth is full of evil, as it’s full the sea, the diseases among men, some in the daytime, others at night time wander, bringing evils to mortals, in silence. So you can not fool the mind of Zeus. "
In the silence that followed the doctor looked at the computer and then at Lisa, enunciating the last sentence again: "So you can not fool the mind of Zeus."
Lisa felt the discomfort growing.
"Yes, I understand, but Greta?"
"Greta? Greta ... what? ... The Greta of Pieter Brueguel? ... that one in the Mayer van der Bergh Museum, Antwerp? Dear Lisa, you are the example that curiosity is definitely female. You are not understanding that such questions not only have no answers, but it is also improper to ask. I say it in your interest, miss. "
Lisa felt a surge of anger: she couldn’t accept to be treated like an dummy like that. She took courage.
"Look, I’m aware of what happened thirty years ago, and if I have to go on to be shooted from you doctor, I have the right to know everything, otherwise I’ll make a mess that Pandora’s box will be nothing ..."
"I think in fact you are a little bit exhausted from the situation: perhaps it would be better to start therapy with antidepressants." Lisa, at that word, felt a shiver along the spine. The doctor stood behind him. Lisa raised her voice.
"Look, now It’s time to stop to treat me like a cow ..." she felt a slight tingling at the base of the neck, like a puncture, and heard the professor saying: "She's just tired, Miss Lisa, she has only to rest. .. "
The words seemed to reach faint, from far away: she turned the wheelchair and saw so a fuzzy apparition: Milena was advancing from the door of the laboratory, in the glow of that light softened her skin seemed extremely pale. She was dressed as a maitresse, with those incredible high-heeled boots blacks: she weared, unlike the first evening when she saw her dressed that way, a blond wig and a reduced bra that was squeezing the huge breasts in an incredible way; two tiny triangles, held together by black leather straps that deeply furrowed the flesh. She was advancing slowly, one step to another, moving sinuously her hips and sliding her gloved hand on the long laboratory desk. Without understanding why, Lisa could not bring her into focus. She arrived a few steps away from them.
"Hello, Doktor Frankenstein ..."
Professor Bohm was in obvious embarrassment. He began to sweat.
"Her girlfriend had a faintness: I should lay her on the couch ..."
"Let her there doctor, there's no hurry: she always acts like this if she’s not in the spotlight. This morning I was bored to death, so I decided to get dressed, let’s say, in an eccentric way. "
She put her hands on her hips and executed a pirouette in front of the man. Then she came up smiling. With heels she was taller than him almost for the whole head, and far more impressive.
"Do you like it?"
"W.. what?" Bohm was dripping.
"Excuse me, I missed the right conjugation. Do you like me? "
“Yes but, .. Miss Milena ... I don’t ... "
She reached her hand on his nape, and pulled him, immersing the man's head between her big udders.
"You know, some questions have no answer: others absolutely require an answers. Then, you like me? "
The professor, his flushed face completely
collapsed in the deep cleavage of the breasts, tried to say something, but what came out of the mouth was totally incomprehensible.
Milena glanced at the ceiling, pulling at her the man's head with all the strenght of her arm, then pulled something out of the cuff of the boots and laid it on the back of Stephan Bohm. A electric shock blitzzed in the air, an the man fell disjointed to the ground, like a marionette that had his wires cut.
Milena looked at the object in her hand.
"Electric gun, - she said -" I think they also shoot down the cows when they can’t produce milk anymore. There will certainly be a greek myth that explains why I always eventually get to that point... "
Boredom ticked the hours she spent int the villa: but this unwanted companion, which usually becomes a habit, however, had become for Lisa a sort of pleasant indulgence. Her thoughts, if not her actions, were still filled by the presence of Milena, and it was the same for her too.
Their relationship had grown in all directions and had turned into the kind of deep friendship that can only develop out of the ordinary situations, such as the one that they were experiencing.
To this, one must add that their sexual relationship ended up with an almost perfect sexual harmony; every day, even if it was boring, culminated in a so intense and enjoyable physical relationship to let them dazed and sleepy for hours. For Lisa, who had never had a relationship of any kind, nor sentimental and least of all sexual, what she was experiencing was absolutely unique and valuable.
She willingly would have agreed to spend, in the boredom of that house, all the rest of her life, if somebody could ensure her that the next day would be equal to the previous one.
That Sunday morning, Lisa woke up unusually early for her habits: she had come downstairs for first, when the house was still shrouded in silence: Gunther had left the previous day and , like every Sunday, the staff was at rest.
She had breakfast while thinking for that very day: medicine, tests, mechanical stimulation. Her breasts were growing, week by week, although they were still far from the gigantic size of Milena’s, and they had tentatively begun to produce a few drops of milk. The grueling milking sessions resolved with a little more than a half cup of liquid per part, but the professor was saying that her progresses were very encouraging.
The laboratory was, as every Sunday, deserted: the large windows were flooding it with the cold light of that sunny morning. Order and absolute silence. Lisa had gone there just for that very reason.
Since this whole incredible story had began, or to be more precise from that day when she met Dr. Bohm for the first time, Lisa had this persistent idea that continued to work in her brain. The images of Greta, the DDR girl that many years before had gone under the treatments of the Professor, these images were often present before her , when she lied on the bed with eyes closed. That same morning, in the semi-unconscious state that anticipate the wake, she had dreamed of her: the enormity of those breasts didn’t have any compare in reality, even with those, however immense, of Milena. Taking advantage of the calm of that high day, she had proposed herself to go down in the offices of the laboratory to discover the truth.
She knew where was the desk of Professor Bohm and she walked to it with decision: she opened the drawers without difficulty, the key was inserted, and looked through the papers. The green folder was not there, just as it was logical that it was. Only notes, medical journals, nothing else. Then her eyes fell on the computer screen, on the table beside. She felt an almost imperceptible hum coming from below, leaned, and saw, in the tower at the floor, a little flashing green light. She switched on the video, and after a few seconds, right in the center it appeared the message: "Do you really want to turn off the computer?"
Lisa knew that the whole computer system was password protected, but apparently the previous evening someone had forgot to turn it off, and the computer was simply left on standby.
She took the mouse, moved the cursor on "no" and clicked.
User: Dr. Stephan Bohm.
Task manager.
View folders.
Sessions IV year examinations.
Exam Session V year.
University lecture notes.
Protocols.
Students.
The labyrinth of Daedalus. This was a computer for the eyes of a stranger. Thousands of files, one inside each other, like concentric circles: corridors, rooms, corridors, doors that opened on other doors.
They had left the key under the dorma; in fact, even the ajar door. But from this to find what she was looking for ...
She did a quick search with the name of Greta. Nothing.
DDR. Six files. Lisa took a look at them quickly, but there was nothing that had relevance to the experiments of the 70s.
70 years ... suddenly it flashed through her mind, as if she was looking at it before her, the registration number of the medical records: Greta SV 14279.
She didn’t know if that number represented a date, but February 14, 1979 was the day when Lisa was born. SV, Saint Valentine. Looking back at that moment, even that seemed really a twist of fate.
She typed the letters, the number and the research program visualized it there, on the screen.
SV14279.pdf: the graphical representation of the medical records of Greta, the girl of the DDR.
Lisa opened file after a moment of hesitation.
At first she saw the photos that had so affected her. She noted, unlike the first time, how much that girl was thin despite the disproportionate size of the breasts.
Then the medical record, typed: Greta Bauer, born in Rostock, 24/05/52. Anthropometric measures before the start of the protocol: height. 172, 107 bust, waist 75, hips 112.
There followed a series of impressive physical data for thoroughness, and then a precise description of treatment and drugs that were administered daily.
Lastly, in the last handwritten pages, the course of the patient during the therapy.
March 3. After the first week, the patient seems to respond well to treatments. The breasts have a turgid consistency and show a swollen areolas.
March 12. Started on intravenous treatment with THR11 intake. The subject is well prepared and cooperative.
March 19. After a week of THR11, there was a visible increase in the breasts. Having no side effects worth of mentioning, the dose is increased to 500 mg ...
April 2 ... The subject is entered into a state of amenorrhea, probably not reversible. Flanked therapy with gastro. The person accused mild symptoms of gastric ulcers. The diameter of the breast is 122 cm ...
April 8 ... Continue hormone therapy: attached to the THR11 the TSG23, which has shown excellent results on test animals. The mechanical stimulation causes fissures: steroid ointment prescribed by ...
April 21 ... Milk production has increased exponentially after treatment with TGS23. The subject indicates vitamin deficiencies or cracking. Prescribed food supplement tablets ...
April 28 ... The subject denotes sudden mood swings, perhaps due to longer treatment and segregation. Prescribed antidepressants in average doses. The anthropometric data are growing within 146 cm ...
May 6 ... Not considering the direction satisfying what now achieved, increased doses of THR11, added TSG47 ...
May 18 ... Milk production reaches the highest so far with 10 liters a day and a weekly average of 51. The surface circulation seems to support the increase in breast tissue ...
May 22 ... Suspended mechanical stimulation for the presence of fissures: presence of bilateral mastitis. Hormone therapy continues as planned ..
May 25 ... The person refuses treatment. Increased the doses of antidepressants up to 800 mg ...
Lisa felt a lump in her stomach: she wanted to stop and curse herself for her curiosity, but she couldn’t ...
June 7th .. Continue feeding and treatment with antidepressants. Hormonal therapy animal continues: reached 168 cm. of breastsize ...
June 16 ... New in maximum daily production with 12.3 liters. Mild signs of breast adipose tissue necrosis, with partial ...
June 23 ... the subject's physical conditions are getting worse: refusal of food and care. Forced administration of intravenous ...
She heard the front door opening in the distance, then the rumors of a walk on the floor of the atrium: someone was coming in the lab: she closed the file in a hurry, looking toward the entrance door ... turned off the video. "Shit, shit ... come on, come on" – she said to the computer rising from the desk and, with her heart pounding like crazy, she headed for the exit. She knew she hadn’t an innocent appearance: couldn’t have, after what she had read.
The door opened and Dr. Bohm, seeing the girl in the lab, he stopped by the door frame: the facial expression was more serious that surprised.
"Hello, Miss Lisa." - he said gravely - "How come you are here in early morning?"
"Ehm ... I was just looking for you, I wanted to ask you some things about therapy ..."
"You should know that I’m never here on Sunday, here at the villa." Those last words came out of his mouth, carefully scanned as heavy boulders.
He stopped still. Then the serious expression broke into a drawn smile.
"Obviously it’s your lucky day: come please, sit down at my desk." So saying, the doctor walked past her. He sat down and immediately threw his eyes on the video. He touched the screen with the back of his hand.
"Come on Lisa, please, sit out here and tell me ..." Lisa sat down, even if she wanted to be somewhere else. She stayed a while in silence, as to find out in her mind the beginning of a speech that was already prepared.
"You see, since I met you, I have a question that I would like to do, but I've never had the opportunity ..." The professor looked at her in silence, hands clasped under his chin.
"On the square, two questions."
"Please ..."
"Why are you conducting these experiments? I mean, you are an esteemed professional in your subject, I don’t think you need fame, or money ... "She looked at him with her head tilted to one side, waiting for a reaction to the words. Bohm smiled.
"Dear Miss: even forgetting that yes, I’m a university professor, but in veterinary medicine (and just between us, I know a lot more, in terms of medicine, of many colleagues dedicated to the human body), let’s say that these experiments are beyond the scope of medicine and certainly they would raise the disapproval, if not worse, of the entire university community. I am careful not to disclose the results of what we are doing on a scientific publication, by subscribing it with my name. And about money, the answer is, again, no: there would be probably plenty of multinational pharmaceutical companies that would pay huge amounts to ensure to millions of women worldwide the growth of the natural breast as that of my assistant Elizabeth ... "
"So?"
"Dear lady, to patent a medicine you must put your signature on it and, consequently, your reputation. You’ll understand that this may pose problems, given the role I have the veterinary science."
"But there must be a reason that drives you to do all that." The doctor looked at her, smiling as usual.
"Not at all, not necesserily there must be a reason. Or rather, not everything should be understandable to all: fate, destiny, divine will are not meant to be encompassed by the poor human nature. What inspires me to continue this research has reason for being in the research itself and nothing else. "
Lisa thought she had understood.
"So ... you like it and that's all."
"I see you have the innate gift of synthesis and, believe me, not everyone has. Maybe 'pleasure' is not the exact word, but the essence it’s that. I would have no interest in knowing that an American housewife of forty in San Diego self-inflicts daily injections to her breasts to force her husband to forget his office noun. I would consider it very trivial and demeaning. And about the other side, the economic one, I believe that money should never be what animates the will of a scientist. "
"My personal satisfaction, my greatest pleasure is to see the human body changed, transformed, also improved, to deny the supremacy of nature over the man. We are the product of millennia of evolution of species; much of what we are we simply owe to the adaptation to the surroundings, if not the fatality. For too long now mankind has allowed nature to decide for him: today men have the ability to radically change their bodies and they must necessarily do it in the near future, if they want to survive. "
He took a long break and sank on his back, a strange grin appeared on his lips.
" I hope you won’t mistake me for the mad scientist of some horror movies." Lisa smiled, embarrassed.
"I would ask you the second request..."
Dr. Bohm leaned toward the computer and tapped with a finger on the spacebar. The machine began to hum. The man narrowed his eyes as to focus on what had appeared on the screen.
"Say ..."
"What happened to Greta?"
Dr. Bohm raised his piercing eyes on Lisa, then looked around at the high windows panes. He began to speak chanting the words.
"... Pasiphae Pasiphae, wife of King Minos of Crete, when the Minoan civilization dominated over all the peoples of the Mediterranean. Beautiful and powerful woman who had everything and everyone at her feet. Pasiphae daughter of Helios, and then demigoddess, as you seem to be on the other hand, in a world of mediocre people. It 's amazing to think how even today, after thousands of years, the Greek myths can be so present and reveal so much of the human nature."
She looked toward the girl.
"You fell in love with a bull, Lisa. White and strong as a bull, as it does not exist in nature. You are in love with a body with superhuman features, because a god sent it from above. Your uneasiness stems from the fact that this seems to be wrong and unnatural. But mind you, there is no sin in your feelings, because they are guided by divine will. The feeling you are living seems to be new and inexplicable: it sounds strange, but I do understand it perfectly, because the two of us share the same admiration for an extraordinary being. I'll tell you another myth that you could find interesting. Do you know the story of Pandora's box? "
Lisa shook her head.
"When Zeus decided to destroy humanity because disappointed by his conduct, he deprived the mankind of the sacred fire: the fire as a symbol of spirituality, but also of the intellectual capacity of men. Prometheus stole the fire to Zeus and gave it back to men. The punishment for this profane affront to Zeus was exemplary, but also subtle. He didn’t affect men with thunders coming from the sky, but he made up everything so that men themselves were the cause of their misfortunes; Pandora received a gift from Zeus: a jar that contained all the evils in the world, with the absolute ban not to open it. The God knew that the woman’s curiosity wouod have the upper hand on the prescribed order, and so it was. Pandora opened her box, throwing humanity into horror and misery. "
He rose suddenly from his chair and began to walk around the desk.
"Hesiod says: and neverending sorrows wander among men, and the earth is full of evil, as it’s full the sea, the diseases among men, some in the daytime, others at night time wander, bringing evils to mortals, in silence. So you can not fool the mind of Zeus. "
In the silence that followed the doctor looked at the computer and then at Lisa, enunciating the last sentence again: "So you can not fool the mind of Zeus."
Lisa felt the discomfort growing.
"Yes, I understand, but Greta?"
"Greta? Greta ... what? ... The Greta of Pieter Brueguel? ... that one in the Mayer van der Bergh Museum, Antwerp? Dear Lisa, you are the example that curiosity is definitely female. You are not understanding that such questions not only have no answers, but it is also improper to ask. I say it in your interest, miss. "
Lisa felt a surge of anger: she couldn’t accept to be treated like an dummy like that. She took courage.
"Look, I’m aware of what happened thirty years ago, and if I have to go on to be shooted from you doctor, I have the right to know everything, otherwise I’ll make a mess that Pandora’s box will be nothing ..."
"I think in fact you are a little bit exhausted from the situation: perhaps it would be better to start therapy with antidepressants." Lisa, at that word, felt a shiver along the spine. The doctor stood behind him. Lisa raised her voice.
"Look, now It’s time to stop to treat me like a cow ..." she felt a slight tingling at the base of the neck, like a puncture, and heard the professor saying: "She's just tired, Miss Lisa, she has only to rest. .. "
The words seemed to reach faint, from far away: she turned the wheelchair and saw so a fuzzy apparition: Milena was advancing from the door of the laboratory, in the glow of that light softened her skin seemed extremely pale. She was dressed as a maitresse, with those incredible high-heeled boots blacks: she weared, unlike the first evening when she saw her dressed that way, a blond wig and a reduced bra that was squeezing the huge breasts in an incredible way; two tiny triangles, held together by black leather straps that deeply furrowed the flesh. She was advancing slowly, one step to another, moving sinuously her hips and sliding her gloved hand on the long laboratory desk. Without understanding why, Lisa could not bring her into focus. She arrived a few steps away from them.
"Hello, Doktor Frankenstein ..."
Professor Bohm was in obvious embarrassment. He began to sweat.
"Her girlfriend had a faintness: I should lay her on the couch ..."
"Let her there doctor, there's no hurry: she always acts like this if she’s not in the spotlight. This morning I was bored to death, so I decided to get dressed, let’s say, in an eccentric way. "
She put her hands on her hips and executed a pirouette in front of the man. Then she came up smiling. With heels she was taller than him almost for the whole head, and far more impressive.
"Do you like it?"
"W.. what?" Bohm was dripping.
"Excuse me, I missed the right conjugation. Do you like me? "
“Yes but, .. Miss Milena ... I don’t ... "
She reached her hand on his nape, and pulled him, immersing the man's head between her big udders.
"You know, some questions have no answer: others absolutely require an answers. Then, you like me? "
The professor, his flushed face completely
collapsed in the deep cleavage of the breasts, tried to say something, but what came out of the mouth was totally incomprehensible.
Milena glanced at the ceiling, pulling at her the man's head with all the strenght of her arm, then pulled something out of the cuff of the boots and laid it on the back of Stephan Bohm. A electric shock blitzzed in the air, an the man fell disjointed to the ground, like a marionette that had his wires cut.
Milena looked at the object in her hand.
"Electric gun, - she said -" I think they also shoot down the cows when they can’t produce milk anymore. There will certainly be a greek myth that explains why I always eventually get to that point... "
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