nomdeplume
Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 8, 2001
- Posts
- 48
Would a lady out there like to take on the role of Michele? Feel free to describe yourself and get stuck in.
He drank heavily from the draft he held in his shaking hand, the formula for which he had been working on now for over five years. This, the culmination of all of his efforts, was just another in the long list of trials that had in the past failed; would this one too?
He thought in retrospect, as the burning sensation began in his stomach, just why he had begun this quest. He had wanted to improve the lives of so many unfortunate males that had to suffer with, what they felt, were overly small or deformed penises. His idea, if it worked would just as easily create a similar response in women, for those that felt their busts could be enlarged/improved.
It was a fix though, that would be permanent, would not require any surgery, should have no side effects, and depending on the genes that the growth DNA was taken from, allowed the patient to choose what size/shape of breast or penis they wanted.
Connor knew from previous experience that there would be this burning sensation. It normally would start in his stomach and in his case, would spread to his manhood. This began to occur, so he sat back in his chair and waited. The sensation soon dissipated, and with it he lost all feeling of space and time. It was as though he had lost consciousness, but he could swear that he had remained awake……. or maybe not.
The muffled “crump” audible through the door of Connor’s office, aroused Michele’s curiosity and concern. She had been Connor’s assistant, now for over a year, but still didn’t know exactly what it was he was working on. Within this time, Connor had treated Michele with the utmost respect. She felt that he was a good friend and employer. He always seemed to manage to read her thoughts when she was troubled over something. Often going out of his way to help her where he could. It therefore galled her that he couldn’t seem to pick up on her feelings for him…… or is it that he could, but he just wasn’t interested?
She had tried to use her subtle charms on him many times, in an attempt to court his attentions. Everything had failed, he wasn’t gay, she was sure. He even had some pin-ups, taken from a soft porn magazine, plastered on one of the walls of his office. He had asked her at the time whether they offended her, she had replied, “no, don’t be silly. If I had a body like that I would be pleased to think that hundreds of men had me displayed upon their walls”. Connor had laughed saying that he felt she was every bit as beautiful as the girls on the wall, if not better. He might be busy he had said but he wasn’t blind.
This had perked Michele up for a while, she had thought there was hope after all, but as he got nearer to the completion of his project, he had become more and more involved and isolated.
With the lack of any further movement or noise coming from the room, Michele strode to the door, opening it in one fluid motion. On the floor in front of her was Conner, still breathing but obviously unconscious. She gasped involuntarily and ran to where he lay, kneeling at his broad shoulders, quickly rolling him into the recovery position. Her thoughts were to immediately call for an ambulance, but almost at once, Connor began to stir and moan. She headed for the smelling salts instead, giving him a good dose. His bleary, non-focusing eyes opened.
From the angle that Connor’s head was at, he could see nothing but Michele’s knees as she knelt before him. He changed his position moaning at the surprising pain he felt. “This was a new sensation”, he thought, “obviously this was a stronger batch”. He made a move to get up, but instantly thought better of it. His head, span and felt like it had been run over by a truck. Every muscle fibre in his body felt inflamed. He rolled onto his back and looked into the worried face of his assistant.
“You OK?” She almost whispered.
“Sure”, he said, with a voice that seemed strangely distant and unattached. As his head began to clear, he realised that from where he lay; he could look directly up Michele’s skirt. Red-blooded male though he was, he would not normally entertain such childish pranks. Now however he seemed to be compelled by some force to look. He knew that she often wore stockings. She was now; he could tell by the bulge of the suspender clip underneath the thin cotton material of her skirt. He looked, oblivious of how piercing his gaze was, willing her to open her legs just enough for him to glimpse further up, to see stocking top, to see bare thigh, maybe to even see her panties. As if aware of his request, Michelle moved slightly, allowing him the view that he wanted. A gradual, enticing view of her slender, well-formed thighs as more and more was exposed to him.
Michele had noticed how his steely gaze had remained fixated on her knees; knew that he was probably looking up her skirt. Felt the power of his stare burning into her flesh. Without any conscious thought on her part, she might even say under coercion, her legs began to open…
He drank heavily from the draft he held in his shaking hand, the formula for which he had been working on now for over five years. This, the culmination of all of his efforts, was just another in the long list of trials that had in the past failed; would this one too?
He thought in retrospect, as the burning sensation began in his stomach, just why he had begun this quest. He had wanted to improve the lives of so many unfortunate males that had to suffer with, what they felt, were overly small or deformed penises. His idea, if it worked would just as easily create a similar response in women, for those that felt their busts could be enlarged/improved.
It was a fix though, that would be permanent, would not require any surgery, should have no side effects, and depending on the genes that the growth DNA was taken from, allowed the patient to choose what size/shape of breast or penis they wanted.
Connor knew from previous experience that there would be this burning sensation. It normally would start in his stomach and in his case, would spread to his manhood. This began to occur, so he sat back in his chair and waited. The sensation soon dissipated, and with it he lost all feeling of space and time. It was as though he had lost consciousness, but he could swear that he had remained awake……. or maybe not.
The muffled “crump” audible through the door of Connor’s office, aroused Michele’s curiosity and concern. She had been Connor’s assistant, now for over a year, but still didn’t know exactly what it was he was working on. Within this time, Connor had treated Michele with the utmost respect. She felt that he was a good friend and employer. He always seemed to manage to read her thoughts when she was troubled over something. Often going out of his way to help her where he could. It therefore galled her that he couldn’t seem to pick up on her feelings for him…… or is it that he could, but he just wasn’t interested?
She had tried to use her subtle charms on him many times, in an attempt to court his attentions. Everything had failed, he wasn’t gay, she was sure. He even had some pin-ups, taken from a soft porn magazine, plastered on one of the walls of his office. He had asked her at the time whether they offended her, she had replied, “no, don’t be silly. If I had a body like that I would be pleased to think that hundreds of men had me displayed upon their walls”. Connor had laughed saying that he felt she was every bit as beautiful as the girls on the wall, if not better. He might be busy he had said but he wasn’t blind.
This had perked Michele up for a while, she had thought there was hope after all, but as he got nearer to the completion of his project, he had become more and more involved and isolated.
With the lack of any further movement or noise coming from the room, Michele strode to the door, opening it in one fluid motion. On the floor in front of her was Conner, still breathing but obviously unconscious. She gasped involuntarily and ran to where he lay, kneeling at his broad shoulders, quickly rolling him into the recovery position. Her thoughts were to immediately call for an ambulance, but almost at once, Connor began to stir and moan. She headed for the smelling salts instead, giving him a good dose. His bleary, non-focusing eyes opened.
From the angle that Connor’s head was at, he could see nothing but Michele’s knees as she knelt before him. He changed his position moaning at the surprising pain he felt. “This was a new sensation”, he thought, “obviously this was a stronger batch”. He made a move to get up, but instantly thought better of it. His head, span and felt like it had been run over by a truck. Every muscle fibre in his body felt inflamed. He rolled onto his back and looked into the worried face of his assistant.
“You OK?” She almost whispered.
“Sure”, he said, with a voice that seemed strangely distant and unattached. As his head began to clear, he realised that from where he lay; he could look directly up Michele’s skirt. Red-blooded male though he was, he would not normally entertain such childish pranks. Now however he seemed to be compelled by some force to look. He knew that she often wore stockings. She was now; he could tell by the bulge of the suspender clip underneath the thin cotton material of her skirt. He looked, oblivious of how piercing his gaze was, willing her to open her legs just enough for him to glimpse further up, to see stocking top, to see bare thigh, maybe to even see her panties. As if aware of his request, Michelle moved slightly, allowing him the view that he wanted. A gradual, enticing view of her slender, well-formed thighs as more and more was exposed to him.
Michele had noticed how his steely gaze had remained fixated on her knees; knew that he was probably looking up her skirt. Felt the power of his stare burning into her flesh. Without any conscious thought on her part, she might even say under coercion, her legs began to open…
