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Prompt of the Week - Week 103
🕑 Added 2022-07-15 16:23:28 +0000 UTCTAGS: Industrial Accident After-Action Report, Growth/Expansion, Hyper
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To Senior Engineer D.B. Arnoldson,
As requested, I, Assistant Systems Engineer A.P. Dorden, hereby write this report in an effort to clarify, and, hopefully, clear up misconceptions regarding the events of 06/25/2022. I would like to preface the report by declaring that henceforth I shall be recording nothing but the truth, as was presented to me and perceived through what I can only assume were non-faulty sensory organs; should anyone reading this report have any doubts regarding the veracity of the events as they unfolded, tough.
To begin: due to an unfortunate scheduling incident whereby HR decided to let three of our supervisors go on vacation without first confirming whether or not said vacations coincided with one another, I, Assistant Systems Engineer A.P. Dorden, was temporarily elevated to the position of Acting Senior Engineer for Industrial Sector Seventeen. While I lack the experience, seniority, and indeed the technical education required for such a position, I was nonetheless granted full and supreme authority over the entirety of Sector Seventeen.
It would behoove those reading this report to know that, henceforth, I shall assume the responsibility for placing me in this position lies squarely with an HR department that thought it better to throw someone like myself into the proverbial frying pan rather than hire an external contractor. Or call back someone from vacation. Or, indeed, do anything remotely sensible. Continuing:
On the morning of the aforementioned day, I, insert title and name here, reported for duty approximately five minutes before the start of my shift (for posterity’s sake, circa 07:55). As expected, I had prepared myself to face yet another day filled with those most dreadful of modern industrial problems: faulty software, legacy code, and technical manuals that were several years out of date. I will refrain from commenting on the state of our as-builts, given that most of the PDF files are corrupted beyond repair, and have been since before I was hired.
Unfortunately, I was thusly informed that, due to the absence of any qualified supervisors, I, as the “personal protégé” of Senior Engineer D.B. Arnoldson (which was quite news to me, might I add), was being placed in charge of Sector Seventeen. I protested, fervently, but was instructed to obey lest I face “disciplinary action” for “failure to comply with company policy”. I chose to, at this point, ask what exact company policy mandated that an unqualified systems engineer be placed in charge of an entire factory compound. This was, as I learned quickly, a mistake.
After being directed to my new, temporary office, I was then instructed on what my tasks were for the day. After requesting a clarification approximately sixteen times and receiving naught but the most perfunctory of explanations, I was abandoned by the HR representative that dragged me to Senior Engineer Arnoldson’s office and then simply left for dead. I should point out that one of the tasks laid before me was to ensure that the daily quota for Supplement Agent B-21 matched the Special Operations Goal for the month. Not only was I not aware we produced a Supplement Agent B-21, I was not aware we even had quota goals, let alone special ones.
It was at this point that the first cracks began to make themselves known, as I was left in the office without computer access to Senior Engineer Arnoldson’s personal files. After calling HR and attempting to retrieve this information, I was informed I did not have access to them, nor would I be given access; I replied that, as I was temporarily elevated to the position of Acting Senior Engineer, I should, by all rights, be able to see all relevant information regarding the compound I was managing. I was then hung up on.
Without an official means of acquiring the necessary data to ensure the proper maintenance and operation of Sector Seventeen, I resorted to tried-and-true methods of data decryption and credential harvesting to uncover the login details for Arnoldson’s computer (side note: please change your login and password from “adm” to something slightly more secure). Within, I found a wealth of information, none of which I was able to parse, understand, nor begin to filter out before the first incident report came in.
It should be noted that, rather than being contacted via phone, company email, or indeed any form of communication that best befitted a Senior Engineer in charge of an entire factory, I was instead accosted by one of the foremen, who seemingly possessed a key to Arnoldson’s office. After a brief altercation, during which I had to inform this Mr. Drudders that I was the one in charge for the day, I was led to Production Line 5-21, which I was informed was responsible for the production of the “growth core component” for the “big’uns”, whatever that was supposed to mean.
I should also point out that I am, again, an Assistant Systems Engineer. I am not an electrical engineer, nor am I an electrician, nor chemist, nor anything other than an Assistant Systems Engineer; thus, when I was brought before a broken piece of machinery which I was informed was a chemical synthesiser, my initial reaction could be accurately described as “apathetic detachment.”
It was, at least in my eyes, a great big pile of metal with lights on it that I could not, for the life of me, discern the method of operation through which it was meant to do anything at all. I am certain Mr. Drudders explained, though I cannot, at this point, remember a damned thing that came out of his mouth, given what happened subsequently.
Following this incident, I was informed that Production Line 5-21 was, indeed, responsible for synthesising and processing the core ingredient for Supplement B-21. What this means, in practice, is that the big chemical squirter what done make the growth potion went kapoot and no one there knew how to fix it. Not just that, but it was leaking all over the floor, which I was assured was an incredibly expensive thing to be happening.
Seeing as I had no means of ascertaining the veracity of this statement, not to mention how I was in no way qualified to know whether that liquid leaking on the ground was anything other than lubricant, I made the mistake of not taking this claim seriously. Approximately enough seconds for me to realise my folly later, I was hit squarely in the face with a gush of whatever was leaking from the chemical synthesiser; predictably, some amount of it was forced down my throat.
I would like to make it known that, beyond this point, I refuse to take responsibility for what happened. While the actions were, indeed, my own, and no other person could be blamed beyond myself, given that I did not take the threat as seriously as I should have, my counterargument is thus: I was force-fed an extremely potent aphrodisiac that also served as a hyper-concentrated growth agent before it was diluted for further refinement into tablets and pills. Thus, I believe I am quite justified in expecting some lenience for what followed.
Back to the report. Almost immediately I sputtered most of the noxious substance from my mouth, Mr. Drudders ran to the nearest alarm station and promptly slammed his fist directly on the big red button. This should be the point at which your records show the entire factory went on lockdown; while I apologise profusely, please see the above paragraph for why it technically wasn’t my fault. Also, I should not have been there to begin with, so blame HR.
I was, perhaps naively so, convinced that the general alarm was an overreaction, hence the unfortunate selection of words that I am certain Mr. Drudders has already reported. However, I was thankfully proven wrong in an expedient fashion when my bust, previously non-existent, burst forth into a state of being as a result of my undue ingestion of concentrated growth agent. There are few ways to describe this that would not, in some way, become inherently sexualised, so I will attempt to keep it as accurate as possible: I have never, in any manner, possessed breasts that could be measured in cup sizes; following the initial growth spurt, I became an F-cup, at least according to surveillance footage at the time of the incident.
Seeing as I was unable to rationalise away what had just happened, panic set in rather quickly, or at least I was informed it did; naturally, my memories of the event are somewhat foggy directly after the first couple of growth episodes, so you will excuse me if the level of detail is considered insufficient. Suffice it to say, when I found myself in full control of my mental faculties, I found that I had been gifted with something along the range of an upper-bound X cup, along with substantial gains to the rest of my body.
To summarise: extensive remodelling to my genital area resulted in abnormal growth of gonads (I believe that’s what they’re called) and sexual organ; while exact measurements are unknown, I can confirm that I was at least big enough to reach the floor, which itself resulted in the undignified noises you most likely have heard in the recordings. I would, once again, refer you to my responsibility paragraph, and remind you that the substance also serves as a potent aphrodisiac.
At this point, Mr. Drudders, having triggered a general alarm, had vacated the area without so much as the slightest piece of advice on how to proceed. While I (now) understand that it is company policy to leave and evacuate at the first sign of a potentially explosive growth spurt, I would like to suggest that this not be the case going further; I believe I would’ve been capable of containing myself had I been given a working chance, rather than being thrown to the wolves and expected to deal with things on my own.
Thankfully, by this point in time, I was no longer in possession of my mental faculties. You may be wondering why, then, I can still recall what happened; I cannot possibly begin to explain why this is, but the substance seems to have kept my long-term memory intact, as did it maintain my conscious self active and well throughout the process. I do not understand why or how our company uses a growth compound that can create semi-dissociative episodes, but by now, I fear I would not like the answer to that question, so I will refrain from asking it.
Nevertheless, the secondary growth spurt was initiated roughly thirty seconds after the alarm was triggered, when I, entirely by accident I might add, tripped backwards and crushed the chemical synthesiser underneath my posterior. Unbeknownst to myself, said posterior had also grown as a result of the compound I accidentally ingested; were I to place a size on it, I would most likely have to use doors as a low-end estimate.
Regardless, the, might I once again add ACCIDENTAL, destruction of the chemical synthesiser resulted in a very large amount of growth compound being ejected from its internal storage system. As there happened to be someone in the way, this drastically reduced the number of avenues through which this excedent could be vented; I will not elaborate further on this subject, as I believe you are, no doubt, aware of what happened to all the “missing” growth agent.
As a result of the aforementioned unwanted injection of further growth compound, I was almost immediately beset by another sequence of transformative events, most of which were focused in and around my posterior and lower body (I postulate that methods of administration affect compound delivery and end results; again, I am no chemist). As a result, whatever remained of the synthesiser machine was handily taken care of, either flattened into sheet metal or reduced into scrap.
The positive side to this was that, with the destruction of the machine itself, no further chemical growth agent could be produced; this severely reduced the rate at which my body expanded, though it did very little to curb the unfortunate arousal and arousal-derived instincts I was saddled with as a result of the aphrodisiac component of said chemical. This resulted in what were later termed “attention-seeking attempts”, but which I distinctly recall as simply being too horny to think things through.
You might find this candid, but it is the absolute truth: I was not, in fact, attempting to seek out any one person or persons for the sake of indulging my sexual desires. I was not, in fact, attempting to find a partner or partners to have sexual intercourse with. I was, however, aroused to such an extreme degree that I could not have, in any way, stopped myself from expressing said arousal. If this took the form of behaviours which were deemed “attention-seeking”, then that’s entirely a you problem; I was just horny.
And, being horny, I resolved to do what anyone in my position, I believe, would’ve done: seek out a way to resolve the situation. Now, did I have a preexisting set of interests which predisposed me to enjoy this situation more than the average person? Perhaps; this is neither here nor there, but, perhaps. Did these interests potentially translate into a deliberate attempt at seeking out further growth agent, perhaps accompanied by constant, audible cries for “Bigger” or “More”? Well, that is entirely within your purview to decide, depending on whether or not you watch the security footage.
I should note, I am not proud of what I did, but I do not believe it could’ve ended in any other way. As noted, I was left alone, in an emotionally vulnerable state, in the middle of a growth spurt, amidst machinery whose sole purpose was to produce the selfsame substance which had caused my predicament to begin with. It was, in my humble opinion, inevitable that I would, at some point, put two and two together and reach for the nearest synthesiser.
I should also add that it was nothing short of a miracle that I fed myself more growth compound, as opposed to any of the myriad of preserving agents or other noxious chemicals Sector Seventeen regularly works with. That I am alive at all is a statistical fluke, and one that I have to go to great lengths not to ponder on; I would humbly request that therapeutical costs be paid for by the company, as they will not come cheap.
Regardless, after positively identifying another synthesiser responsible for producing more of the growth compound, I opted with the simple solution and began drinking. Please understand that, while definitely horny logic, there was some logic to it: bodies have a limit beyond which climax is experienced; therefore it made sense to assume that, should I bring myself to the edge as quickly as possible, I would be able to “be done” with the experience in proper time.
I could not have foreseen the effects the substance had on my refractory period.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that the company is now legally mandated to introduce this potential side effect to what I have no doubt is an already-extensive list; just as I could not have known that overdosing on the growth compound would reduce my refractory period to effectively zero, I am ready to go on a limb to say that others wouldn’t know a well. Similarly, I should again make the point that, not having known that this effect would hold true, I can hardly be blamed for my course of action; for what I knew at the time, attempting to force an orgasm as quickly as possible was, if I might say so myself, a downright genius move.
Unfortunately, reality disagreed, and I was forced, repeat, forced, to act against my will. You might once again make the claim that I was in control of my own actions, that what I did was what I chose to do; if that is the case, I would recommend you take a concentrated overdose of B-21’s core component and then see just how well you can control yourself.
Please take care: this is not an attempt at shirking blame entirely. I am absolutely at fault for not initially taking the necessary precautions to avoid a scenario like this one from taking place; even if I was only in that position to begin with because HR screwed up scheduling three vacations somehow, I am more than willing to accept that I did not go the full length necessary to ensure an industrial accident did not take place, and for that, I am truly sorry.
However.
At no point after the compound was squirted into my mouth was I in full control of myself. While I may have experienced brief moments of lucidity and self-control, for the vast majority of the “growthsplosion”, as I’ve heard it called, I was, put simply, not myself. While I retain memories from the event, it is my assertion, right here, in writing, that I had physically dissociated as a result of my heightened libido, leading to a separation of mind and body; this separation resulted in the actions captured via CCTV monitoring, which you are no doubt privy to at the moment you read this report.
If you are not privy to them, I preemptively apologise for the unhinged acts of debauchery you are about to be subjected to, and ask only that you keep my words in mind when considering appropriate disciplinary action. For the sake of goodwill, I will be more than happy to accept a relocation to another industrial sector altogether, as well as a reassignment to an entirely new project; if not for your own sake, then for mine, as clearly I cannot be trusted around that growth compound.
Thank you in advance for your consideration.
Respectfully,
Assistant Systems Engineer A.P. Dorden
