.. she was ... but not. She was the eighth generation in captivity. And that's not right and I don't think I can explain. The experimentation done on ...her mother had changed her. Genetic engineering was in it's infancy and conservative science (Main-stream thinking) likened to to playing god.Someone in Madison Wisconsin played god with Isabelle and that someone was dissatisfied with the result and disposed of it. The disposal didn't work. Isabelle was smarter than the disposer.Whoops ... sorry,. Pointing my toes down towards the end of my long bed. My palms rub the skin of my soft thighs and warm them against the cold breeze that continues to ripple into the room. I pull my left knee up towards me and then let it lie back down to the side. My hand now travels to the inside of my upper thigh. As I do so, my right hand runs through my short, soft pubic hair, gently pulling it as I do so. After a moment, I draw my hand to my mouth to wet my fingers and then return it to my crotch. My wet. They then spent the better part of the next hour putting it together, which to his surprise was more pleasant a project than he expected, though still not without the usual frustrations that come with anything ‘some assembly required’ from a big box store. When it was all put together, placed in its new home on the balcony, and working properly, Jeremy went to the fridge to retrieve his mystery bag. He produced a box of hamburger patties and American cheese. ‘It’s tradition that a new grill. The girls were trying to impress me with how fast they could move through the rough terrain and in all honesty I was impressed. I noticed that they were all wearing jeans that covered their legs just like me. I realized it was a good idea and they must have been well aware of the fact that bare legs would wind up with a lot of tiny cuts just moving through the tall grass and brush if they were not covered by something sturdy like a pair of thick jeans.I was bringing up the rear and I had a.