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STORY ONE

The Researcher

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Jason shivered. The examination table he sat on was cold. The entire building was cold, actually. A bluish fluorescent light hummed overhead. He wondered if the heat was broken.

The examination room was more barren than any doctor's office he'd been in before. The only items in the room were the examination table he sat on, what looked like a life vest tethered to a box on the wall, and a padded stool on rollers sitting at his feet. There was a small metal grate covering a drain in the center of the floor. The building had been a hospital in the 1870s and this had almost certainly been an operating room back then. He couldn't help but imagine the bloody, primitive surgeries this room had seen. The fluids that had been washed down that drain. He did his best to put it out of his mind and wait.

White's Fertility Research Center was a little fly-by-night for Jason's tastes. But he walked in knowing this wasn't a legitimate operation. He was happy to find that the building was at least clean and well maintained inside. He initially heard about the center online, on a discussion forum dedicated to male fertility. Users there had somehow found a clinic willing to give unapproved drugs at-cost to willing test subjects in exchange for a day or two of close monitoring by researchers. It even had a website, available as a Tor hidden service.

According to the website, this clinic was run by "Doctor White", almost certainly not his real name, Jason thought, a disgruntled ex-employee of a unnamed major pharmaceutical company. He had worked for years developing treatments for hypogonadism, sexual dysfunction, and other male reproductive problems. He was joined by a team of researchers who had worked on similar conditions, like anejaculation, impotence, and prostate dysfunction.

The drugs used in their treatments had been through animal testing, the website insisted many times over, but due to financial concerns, or simply the fickle politics of the pharmaceutical industry, development had been halted.

"The truth is", Dr. White wrote in his mission statement on the site, "that regulations on modern medicine place so much value on patient safety that patient happiness has been completely ignored. The medical community has forgotten that unhappiness kills. If sexual dysfunction is the cause of serious depression, shouldn't it be treated like any other life-threatening condition? If sexual side effects force a patient off of antidepressants, that patient could commit suicide. Are we any less culpable for that death than if the patient had died working with us towards a life worth living?"

The mission statement then slipped back into health service boilerplate, assuring patient safety was still a top priority, and Jason's eyes had quickly glazed over reading it. What really stuck with him was White's impassioned argument. He had never thought about it before but he agreed completely with the doctor. Why shouldn't the patient get to decide, he thought, why doesn't my happiness matter? The website had a form to contact the clinic about setting up a free consultation, so after spending a few minutes browsing their available treatments, Jason had done just that.

The examination room door clicked and swung open, snapping Jason out of his own head. A short, stocky man, mid-40s, wearing a white lab coat stepped inside. He stood about 5'6", bald, with a full but neatly trimmed beard. He held a clipboard in one hand and a small black bag in the other. His intelligent, blue eyes quickly scanned the room before landing on Jason. The door shut behind him.

"Hello, you must be... Jason." he said reading off the clipboard with a thin smile. "Sorry I'm late, my previous appointment ran a little long. Let's get to it, what brings you here?"

"I- uh, wait, are you Dr. White?" said Jason, caught off guard by how quickly this was moving.

"No, no Doctor White is extremely busy at the moment, but he should come by before the end of your consultation."

"Oh, ok. Who are you then?"

"I am one of Dr. White's researchers. We cycle in and out daily, so there's little point in getting to know one another."

"O- ok," said Jason, bewildered but doing his best to play it cool. "But I have to call you something. What's your name?"

" 'Researcher' will do just fine."

Jason was never a great conversationalist but this exchange had him at a loss. The room was silent for a moment.

"So" The Researcher said, starting over again, "What brings you here? Impotence? Infertility? Side effects from medication?" He clicked his pen.

Jason's heart was racing. He had been rehearsing the lies he'd tell in this consultation for hours. Deep breath and proceed as practiced, he thought.

"I've been pretty depressed lately", Jason said, starting with a simple exaggeration rather than a lie. "I don't have much sex drive to speak of and when I do have sex with my wife, if I even reach orgasm, my... volume is really low. We've been trying for months for a baby with no luck." Jason said, as if reading a letter to a sex columnist.

The Researcher pursed his lips into a patient, indulgent expression. Jason noticed he wasn't writing anything on his clipboard.

"So I think that I might have low testosterone and maybe hypogonadism? I think if, like, I had some testosterone injections and could increase the-" Jason trailed off. The Researcher was tapping his foot.

"Oh, are you finished?", he said, with irritation and amusement in equal measure. "Look, I'm going to have my hands on your scrotum. It's going to be really obvious seconds into your physical examination if you don't have hypogonadism. There are simple blood tests to check testosterone levels, and I think I'd notice if you were faking ejaculatory dysfunction!"

Jason saw his chance slipping away. "I can pay I just-"

The Researcher cut Jason off. "You just want an unregulated pharmacy you can raid to dose yourself with whatever chemicals you think would make your dick bigger based on an afternoon on Wikipedia!"

"I swear. My wife..."

"Ok, ok, I think you can find your way out". The Researcher turned, opened the door, and paused mid-step. He could almost hear Jason's façade crumbling.

"Wait!" Jason said. "I don't have a wife. Or low sex drive. I doubt my testosterone is low or that I'm shooting blanks. Not that it matters, since I'm gay."

The Researcher smiled and turned around. "If you're hoping to get your boyfriend pregnant, that might be a little bit beyond our abilities. What business does a healthy young gay man in his 20s have with a fertility clinic?"

"I just figured if you've developed treatments to restore normal sexual function for men who need it, maybe those same treatments could give me a little... extra"

"Extra what, exactly?", The Researcher asked coyly.

Jason's face went red. He had never told anyone before, about his deepest, most selfish desires. He had never even allowed himself to put them into words. But he was here. He frowned at the floor.

"My whole life I've always been average. Average height, average dick, average sex drive. Painfully average."

"I meet a lot of guys every day willing to die just for a shot at being average", The Researcher chided.

"I know, I know it's selfish and wrong. I really shouldn't have come here. I just can't shake this feeling, this fantasy I have."

"It is possible that there is something small we can do. Tell me what you're looking for."

Jason looked up at The Researcher. An opening. He couldn't hold back. He was so hungry.

"I want more."

"More?"

"More everything. I want more drive, more stamina, a bigger fatter cock, 14 inches long, and a huge nutsack producing the semen and testosterone of 5 men, driving me out of my mind with desire. When I cum, I want it to soak my partner. I want to drench one partner and move on to the next. I don't want to stop for hours."

The Researcher coughed to hide his surprise.

The clinic had always attracted a decent mixture of patients with real medical problems and patients looking to augment. The Researcher prided himself on being able to tell one from the other with little more than a glance. Dr. White didn't like augmentations much on principle but they provided almost as much research data as regular therapies, so he allowed them. It helped that The Researcher found them a bit arousing, and was always willing to accept them as extra work.

This kid was easily the greediest augmenter he'd ever seen, gay or straight. Most men just wanted to be above average. What made this kid think the things he was asking for were even possible? Regardless, he had never turned away a patient before and he saw no reason to break his perfect record.

"That's a tall order, and potentially dangerous. I might not be able to hit everything. Some of what you said might not even be possible. And I definitely am not your guy for that level of penile enlargement. But we have a few options."

"I want you to do everything you can."

The Researcher set down his bag and took out a collection of equipment and drugs. He ripped the plastic off of a needle and syringe and drew some liquid from a vial.

"I need you to remove your pants. These injections need to be delivered to a large muscle in your thigh."

Jason began unbuttoning his pants. "Is that testosterone?" He asked excitedly.

"No, injecting testosterone, at least on its own, is counterproductive unless you are naturally deficient. Your body knows how much testosterone it is supposed to be producing and injecting more can actually raise estrogen levels, then shut down production to balance out the injection. Do it long enough and it'll cause your testicles to shrink to nothing."

"Shit, so what is it?"

"This is clomifene. It binds to estrogen receptors and tricks your body into thinking it has more estrogen than it does. It encourages testicular growth and testosterone production, and protects against the negative effects of anabolic steroids. At this high of a dose, I'll need to mix it with prednisone, that'll help later too, I wonder if epinephrine..." He trailed off.

Jason looked in horror at the apparent lack of precision going into his dosing.

"Alright, first injection is ready."

The Researcher gently inserted needle and dispensed 15mL into Jason's upper thigh. The sheer quantity of liquid in the injection burned. Within moments, Jason was breathing rapidly and sweating.

He felt like someone had turned up the heat in the room by 40 or 50 degrees. Sweat broke out all over his body, soaking his clothes in moments. He felt stronger, more powerful, but at the same time anxious. His lungs felt like they had doubled in capacity. It was so easy to breathe, he wanted to run. He felt like he could charge the tiled wall, break outside and run forever. He wanted to try.

"Just relax, don't hyperventilate. Now you know why we try to keep these offices so cool. That's just the first injection to prepare your body for what's to come. There are two more."

Jason felt ready to jump out of his own skin. "Take your time" he said through gritted teeth. "So what's the second shot?"

"First reach behind you and put on that vest"

"What's this do?" Jason said, snatching the vest from its hook.

"It's an ice vest. We'll need it to wick away the excess heat you'll produce after the second injection. It needs to be against your bare skin."

Jason removed his soaking wet t-shirt and put on the vest. He clipped it into place. A compressor started up a few rooms away. Freezing water began to cycle through. It felt amazing.

The Researcher began preparing the next injection.

"One thing your body does exceptionally well is maintain chemical equilibria." He said, inverting a vial and extracting some fluid. "If you attempt to raise hormone levels in your body artificially, it will always fight the change and restore balance any way it can. Even genetic mutations have an incredibly hard time upsetting the balance."

The Researcher tapped a few crystals into an empty vial and began heating the bottom with a lighter.

"We can reprogram a group of cells to produce nothing but testosterone, we can implant the cells without rejection, and you know what happens?"

"It doesn't work?"

"A month later the patient comes back with breasts. Excess testosterone is actively converted into estrogen!"

The crystals melted into a dark brown liquid. The Researcher sucked it into the huge 20mL syringe, topping it off and giving the mixture a deep amber color.

"It's as brilliant as it is infuriating. There are hundreds of similar equilibria and we're a slave to each one."

"Wait a minute, you're not giving me breasts are you?"

The Researcher laughed. "No, of course not! What we have discovered is that using the right combinations of drugs to rapidly shift your hormonal balance, coupled with a select few genetic changes that will maintain the new balance, we can redefine almost any part of your body chemistry. It has to happen quickly though, before your body can resist."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I'm sure you don't" The Researcher said flatly. "This injection contains a metabolic booster of my own design to ensure the changes happen rapidly enough. I don't want to roast your brain, make sure that vest is tight."

Jason felt the second needle pierce his upper thigh. It burned like a hot poker sliding down his leg as The Researcher depressed the plunger. Then, as quickly as the feeling came on, it faded to pleasant warmth. The warmth spread from the injection throughout his entire body until he no longer felt the ice vest against his skin. The heat continued to build but never became painful.

The Researcher worked quickly to prepare the final injection.

Jason was sweltering. He pulled off his underwear without a thought and kicked them to the floor. The heat morphed into pins and needles and every hair on his body stood on end. He felt blood rush to his penis followed by an irresistible wave of pleasure. He shivered and wanted nothing more than to have his mouth on another mouth. His skin against another person's skin. He wanted to hug and grind. Every time he closed his eyes he saw fragments of pornographic images hammering at his brain. Thick biceps, meaty thighs, broad chests, giant feet, dicks tenting against shorts, balls slapping against asses. He could almost smell the musk, taste the sweat. The lust swallowed Jason whole. His brain was so overloaded he could barely move. He fell backwards onto the examination table, his hips bucking into air. His right hand grasped mindlessly at his rock hard member, the other reached under the vest to stroke his chest.

"Looks like it's time for injection three before you hurt yourself. In this state, you'll rip your own foreskin off before you even notice the pain."

Jason felt the tiniest pinprick off in the distance. Cool ripples emanated from the center. Bit by bit, the pleasure he was providing himself tapered off. The drive, the lust did not relent but within a few seconds, stroking his cock lost its reward. He could still feel it but he might as well have been stroking his arm.

He felt his left nipple ping a small amount of pain. He looked down and saw his hand clenched on it, twisting it 90 degrees. His fingers took a few seconds to obey but eventually they unclenched, pleasure no longer short-circuiting his will.

"There you go; that should help you control yourself. I'm especially proud of this one. It's a cocktail of neurotransmitters that cause feedback from touch to cancel sexual pleasure. You'll still find sex enjoyable but for your own safety, self-pleasure will be about as effective as trying to tickle yourself. Don't worry, this effect only lasts a few days."

Jason wasn't listening. His eyes were unfocused, tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. The pornographic images were intensifying. He didn't need to close his eyes to see them anymore. There were flowing unbidden across his mind. Grab. Hump. Grind. His chest heaved, drop after drop of precum rolled down his shaft. He could feel his balls descending under added weight. They touched the cool table and the feeling drove him wild. He grasped at his cock, then released it. It was no use. He whimpered.

"Alright, alright, but don't tell anyone about this!", The Researcher said. "Not that you'll even remember..."

The Researcher chuckled. He had no idea the drugs would have such a strong effect.

He grabbed ahold of Jason's leaking member and gave it a tug. It was slick, easy to stroke. Jason drew a ragged breath and bucked at the hand. His vision dimmed as he swam in the feeling of that one stroke. The Researcher began to pump up and down.

That was enough to completely disengage Jason from reality. The room faded from his perception completely. He ceased to feel his arms or legs. The massive bursts of pleasure emanating from his cock drowned everything else out. He was nothing but a formless mass of white-hot burning desire in a black void. Each stroke compressed the feeling, concentrated it. Jason felt each one strike him with a hollow thump. Thump. Thump.

His cock was purple, straining against the skin. The injection had loosened the soft tissue. It pulsed with each beat of his heart, slowly expanding. The Researcher took care to move in smooth strokes, applying even pressure down the shaft, tugging gently at the tip. He could feel the cock warping beneath his fingers, pressing outward, growing. The growth needed to be even.

The pulses were coming at Jason faster now. Thump, thump, thump. He lost track of time. It could have been minutes or years, he had no way of knowing. He felt the last stroke fade, he rode the next stroke to new heights. His reality ended there.

The Researcher had been pumping away for 20 minutes straight. His arm ached but he needed to see how long Jason would last on this particular cocktail. The poor kid was running out of fluids. He had already lost about a pint in pre alone. He looked to be close though. His breathing was getting faster.

Jason felt himself detonate like a bomb. His perception expanded, hurtling him out of the hole he had fallen into. He returned to his body, felt his chest heaving, his arms twitching, hips bucking, his now massive balls tightening into steel and drawing up inside of him. Then suddenly he realized he had control. He gasped and sucked in what felt like the first breath of his life. The muscles in his perineum jolted, squeezing his swollen prostate.

A massive fountain of ejaculate erupted from the tip of his cock, shooting with enough power to arc 5 feet into the air and land on the examination room floor. The sensation was so exquisite, the force of it knocked the wind out of him.

Then the second spurt hit, just as hard as the first. Jason ground his ass into the table. Then a third, fourth. He couldn't handle it. He gasped for breath. He fought against exhaustion, stars danced in front of his eyes. Some time around the 20th rope of semen, this one only arcing over his stomach and landing on his chest, Jason passed out. His orgasm began to wind down at last. His cock continued to leak for another minute.

The Researcher slowed, then stopped his pumping. He loosened his grip and allowed the penis to slide out of his hand. The cock fell to Jason's stomach with a wet slap. It had gone from an average 6 inches to a meaty, 10 inches in just a half hour. It was the best stretch-and-reform result he'd gotten so far out of the cortisol-peptide combination. Well-proportioned with no markings.

The Researcher uselessly wiped his hand on his soaking wet lab coat and removed a pen from his pocket. He scribbled notes for a moment, then looked back at his subject.

"So that's what limits the process: oxygen usage", The Researcher mused, observing Jason's labored breathing. "Let's get you some oxygen." He stepped out into the hallway and pressed the call button on a nearby intercom. Orderlies would move Jason to a private room for observation.

When The Researcher stepped back into the room, Jason was still unconscious but his erection had already returned, his cock bobbing above his belly button.

"Well I'll be damned".

---

Jason drifted back towards consciousness. His eyes fluttered open. He was in a hospital bed, in a dark room, hooked up to a few monitors. He considered briefly how long he had been unconscious before more pressing matters interrupted his train of thought.

His mouth was incredibly dry; he'd never been so thirsty. His stomach twisted; he'd never been so hungry. He wanted meat, a pile of steaks. But most of all, he was consumed by an insatiable lust he could barely control. He involuntarily arched his back several times, humping at the sheets, before focusing all his will on calming down.

He unclipped a blood pressure cuff from his arm and popped off two sensor wires from his chest, leaving the pads in place. He managed to stand up and stumble naked towards the door. He felt his balls swing around and give his inner thigh a hot, weighty slap. Looking down, he saw a six-pack of abs starting to show. That was new. Either he was packing on muscle or just burning fat. It looked like both.

Below his abs, he saw his painfully erect cock, at least 4 inches longer than he was used to seeing. It stood above a swinging scrotum the size of a large grapefruit. He admired his new equipment for a moment and felt the impressive heft of his nuts before continuing. He reached the door and pulled it open. The hallway was quiet. Jason began to look for something to eat, something to drink, and someone, anyone to fuck.