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Caveat Emptor (Commission for yain55)
🕑 Added 2020-06-28 19:43:46 +0000 UTCDresk was having a perfectly fine day walking down the street from work when the weirdest flyer caught his attention, hanging from one of the telephone polls he made a habit of smacking into. It was a shabby thing, printed on poor-quality paper and covered in brightly-coloured words in at least five different fonts, making for some visual sensory overload that made the dragon have to look at it. While it was a slight inconvenience for him to have to coil his body on the sidewalk, even drawing the ire of a few passers-by, the contents of that flyer were well worth the trouble of bringing himself to a halt.
He’d heard of that clinic a few times before, usually from people who wanted to badmouth it and its exceptionally poor service. It had appeared, seemingly from nowhere and apparently overnight, in one of the worst neighborhoods in town, and quickly made a name for itself as a place one could go to in order to acquire all sorts of medical supplies and services that no other establishment provided… assuming one could keep their mouth shut about what happened inside those walls. That it was a barely-legal establishment working just barely on the right side of the law was no secret to anyone, and the only reason it was allowed to operate without any kind of pressure from the mayor’s office was that it was frequented by several key high-class individuals who would very much prefer to remain anonymous.
For those without the hard cash, the place really was dreadful, with the service being designed to scare away anyone that wasn’t willing to drop a small fortune on their “unique products”. Those few who happened to have the funds to pay for the best they had, however? They were the reason why bodymodding had taken off as a fad in town ever since the clinic arrived; everyone wanted to mimic the newest craze, even if the sight of half-blobified or slimy bodies was enough to get some purists up in arms.
As for Dresk, he was just trying not to laugh at how poorly-designed the pamphlet was, though he had to admit it did the job of drawing his attention for long enough that he saw what it was advertising for: the clinic was looking for test subjects in order for a new “experimental medication”, and was therefore looking for anyone that might want some quick cash, provided they fit the desired profile. The dragon was honestly surprised at how upfront the flyer was, listing a whole bunch of extremely specific fetishes that all revolved around either bodily transformation, overstuffing, or some combination of the two; fetishes he himself tried to keep to himself, knowing he’d have to answer a whole bunch of very awkward questions if it ever came out that he was into those sorts of things.
He figured that, being a health clinic, they’d have to abide by doctor-patient confidentiality. The service for anyone not swimming in money might be terrible, but no one had heard anything about the doctors and staff blabbing about their patient records; and with his cheeks rapidly rising in temperature at the thought of just what they would do to him in there, it was hard to resist the temptation of ripping one of the pieces of paper with a phone number and stuffing it in a shirt pocket. A quick jaunt to his house and a call later, and he had an appointment lined up for a few days afterwards, allowing Dresk to spend the whole time fantasizing about just what kind of depraved things would end up happening once he walked inside.
***
The clinic itself was surprisingly pristine and well-kept, standing in direct opposition to the dingy, run-down state of literally everything around it. Plenty of speculation was had that it was built there specifically to abuse the low property values, not to mention forcing their high-profile clients to take extra measures to hide their identity, lest they be the target of opportunistic bystanders spotting an easy meal. Once inside, however, it was akin to jumping into a new dimension; with the bright white floors and shining neon lights, it was almost like the set for some cheesy, pseudo-futuristic sci-fi show, not helped by the staff walking around wearing uniforms that wouldn’t look out of place in a Star Trek knock-off.
The few customers waiting for their turn inside were all dressed in the same variation of body-obscuring clothes, ending up looking more conspicuous than if they just invested in a pair of sunglasses and a hat. Underneath the thick layers of clothing, the dragon could spot a few of the bodymods that had made the clinic famous: extra limbs, lengthened tails, even what seemed like goopy, dripping slime. But he wasn’t there to rub shoulders with the rich and famous, he was there because he needed the money and was told he could basically get off while making some, and so he sat down and patiently waited for his ticket to be called out.
Surprisingly, he was the first to be summoned, presumably because the people taking care of him weren’t the same ones providing the clinic’s “main” services; Dresk was led down a side corridor that ended in a metallic double door, on the other side of which was a wide-open, circular room with doors lining its walls. Each one was inscribed with a number, and the staff member escorting him happily informed the dragon that those were the bedrooms they had prepared for those participating in the experiment; it was predicted to have such a lasting, powerful effect on their bodies that the management opted to just give everyone free housing for the duration.
These words worried Dresk, who thought he had just come in for a quick fill-up and would then be allowed to leave; he asked a series of questions regarding the true nature of the experiment, but the embarrassed-looking feline beside him simply stated she’d said enough, and the doctors would explain everything in due time. Trying exceptionally hard not to blurt out any more information, the nurse led him to the center of the room, where a large padded bed/chair/thing served as the sole piece of furniture in sight, then hurriedly left through the same door they came in. Dresk was beginning to have second thoughts; what did he just walk into? The money offered seemed like it was way too much for a simple experiment, but maybe it wasn’t so simple after all; the large bed-thing next to him, massive enough that he could comfortably fit his long, serpentine body on it without needing to coil up, was lined with metal restraints and warning symbols. Several struts linked it to the ceiling, with a multitude of computer monitors and glass panels around it, presumably medical scanning equipment or something meant to read his vital signs. On the ground, several small nozzles protruded from the floor, their tips covered in some unknown green substance, already dried and crusted despite the room itself probably being a new addition to the building.
For some odd reason, he felt compelled to sit down; he wasn’t all that tired, and was reasonably convinced he might trip some kind of automated system if he so much as went near that thing, but it looked irresistibly comfortable… so much so that, before he even knew it, one of his feet was already feeling the padding and falling in love with it, quickly followed by the rest of him slithering onto the bed-chair.
As expected, a soft whirring began to fill the room the moment his tail’s tip left the ground, with the nozzles emerging from their sockets and revealing a series of transparent plastic tubes attached to them. A sticky green fluid instantly filled them, pressurized so that drops of it spurted from the tips, the whole array turning its “heads” towards the dragon’s body and approaching at an uncomfortably quick pace-
“Ahem.”
The snakelike hoses reeled back at the clearing throat, acting uncannily like they had some kind of mind of their own by retreating into the ground and closing their nozzles up with a series of rounded caps. The one responsible for such a rapid shift in the machinery’s “attitude” was none other than the clinic’s founder and director… whose name Dresk had completely blanked out on.
“I see you’re enjoying our facilities, Mister… Dresk?” the large ursine mused, looking down at his clipboard, “And I’m… not even going to try and pronounce your last name, so! Here for the experimental treatment?”
“Y-yes!” the dragon replied, confused as to whether or not he should try to awkwardly shuffle off the chair or just stay on it and wait for the treatment to begin, “I saw the flyer and I have to admit, I was kinda curious…”
The tall bear nodded along, pretending to listen while writing down the dragon’s physical attributes in an incomprehensible doctor’s scribble. While Dresk ran his mouth talking about all sorts of things he would never share with anyone he actually knew, the director was focused on his patient’s body instead, approaching it and giving it a good once-over before turning his head to one of the many panels and tapping on it once. Almost immediately, the dragon was silenced by the whole apparatus being properly turned on, the bed-chair-thing flattening out into a weird body-sized padded slab and the struts around him “unlocking”, receding into the ground and leaving only the ones that had monitors attached still standing. The whole platform Dresk’s resting place was on began turning so it would face the director, before rising upwards into a vertical position; the dragon was so scared of falling off that he almost took flight, only to find both legs and arms being caught up in the many restraints built around the sides of that experiment table.
“I can assure you this is all above board,” the doctor spoke up, accurately guessing the biggest concern in Dresk’s head at the time, “as soon as you sign this.”
He extended his clipboard and showed its contents to his patient: about a dozen or so forms, all printed so that the font was practically unreadable from how tiny it was, displayed in quick succession while the bear instructed his captive test subject on where he should be leaving his signature. Dresk, for all that he wanted to ask what the hell was going on, instead had to focus on getting a single word in to complain, to let the doctor know it was somewhat difficult to sign anything when his arms were practically chained to the vertical slab.
The only reaction he got from the director was one of his eyebrows rising slightly before his eyes turned to the monitor next to him. There was an option that allowed him to free the dragon, but then he’d have to reset the entire system and wait for the safety checks to clear out…
“Urgh…”
The single groan preceded the whole apparatus being turned off, with Dresk being gently placed on the ground after a mechanical hand pushed him off the vertical bed. Floating just above the floor, the dragon scowled at the bear hard enough to burn through a solid wall, only for the director to hold out the clipboard without even bothering to change their bored-looking expression.
“You’ll find all the necessary information in there,” he sighed, drawing his hand back conspicuously quickly after Dresk took the papers, “but honestly, you should know by now going in, so this is really just a formalit-”
“I have no idea what this is about,” the dragon cut through.
“Oh… oh wait, didn’t the flyer…”
“No, the flyer just asked about… y-you know…”
There was an extremely long moment of silence between the two of them, where the confusion obvious in the ursine director’s face allowed the dragon to realize that the man honestly had no idea just what the pamphlets were advertising, and had up until that moment genuinely believed they were as informative as they could be. Dresk struggled with the need to tell the truth, but considering his reaction had already revealed the true nature of the publicity campaign, he figured it was better to just come clean.
He had never seen a man go from neutral to grumpy so quickly in his entire life.
“Going to need to have a word with Jim later, it seems,” the man grumbled, rubbing his temple, “but to put it simply, we’ve recently received a contract to test a new kind of reactive gel for use in burn treatments and surgery; it’s supposed to improve tissue elasticity and healing rates, but it still requires approval and we’re currently in the try-out phase.”
“But I don’t need surgery, though.”
“... indeed you don’t, but that’s not the point. The gel can only be incubated inside organic tissue. Live organic tissue.”
The director paused for just long enough that Dresk knew exactly what he meant. Combined with the list of kinks and fetishes on the pamphlet, not to mention all the machinery he had just been tied up in, it all suddenly made an awful lot of sense; and if the dragon had been concerned and apprehensive just a few moments before, it quickly became hard to hide how luminescent the blush on his face was, not to mention how tight his slacks were getting. Fortunately for him, it seemed that the large bear was completely unaware of the effects his words had on his patient, as he carried on explaining the process like nothing had happened.
“It typically expands to several times its size after consumption, then carries into the incubation phase, after which it can be safely drained out of the body via a simple gastric pump. We’ll use anesthetics if you so require, keep you under for the whole time; it’s perfectly safe and won’t have any lasting side-effects that we know of, though you may feel slightly stretchier for a couple of days.”
Every word out of his mouth made Dresk feel just the tiniest bit weaker and unable to resist; he was signing away at the documents without even reading them properly, eagerly nodding along while understanding very little of the technical jargon.
“Another concern is that we require our test subjects to consume as much of the feedstock as possible; the incubation process requires a lot of raw material in order to start, so the bigger the body, the better the overall results. In all honesty, yours will probably be the best medium we’ve ever had for developing the gel; how long are you, nine, ten feet?”
“F-fifteen,” he stammered back, “w-well, fifteen and something, heh.”
“Good, means we’ll have plenty of room to work with. Just remember, we’re going to need to keep you belly-side down; if all goes well, you’ll experience a substantial amount of swelling, and while the gel will keep you perfectly healthy, it does not infiltrate your bone structure, so you’ll… most likely be immobile. Wouldn’t want to smother you under your own weight, of course.”
Dresk would actually love nothing but that; while the warning was delivered in the driest, most clinical tone possible, it evoked images of himself being stuffed into becoming a dragon-sized tube of flabby pudge, forever stuck on top of a belly that took up most of his body mass and wobbled at the slightest touch. It was a gel as well, meaning he’d most likely have plenty of jiggle to go around, to say nothing of the obscene amounts of sloshing that would become a regular part of his every day existence. In fact, the dragon adored the idea so much, that he forgot he had to sign anything, hanging with the pen over the last scrap of paper while staring out at the horizon, straight through the director and with his shaft threatening to escape from the confines of his clothing.
For once, the bear did notice that, seeing as he tapped his patient’s forehead hard enough to bring him back to reality.
“I would advise against fantasizing about sexual release, it is very unlikely to happen.”
Oh, if only he knew.
“And besides, you’ll most likely be too out of it to really enjoy the experience in that level,” the director carried on, “now, are we ready to begin?”
“Yes!” Dresk instantly answered back, never having given a reply that quick in his life, “Should I get onto the machine?”
The doctor looked appropriately suspicious of the sudden enthusiasm, but picked his clipboard back nonetheless and gestured towards the slab. The dragon eagerly threw himself at it, practically clawing at the restraints before they clipped into place, the goofiest grin on his face when the injector hoses rose from the ground again. They seemed far less threatening that time around, potentially due to Dresk knowing just what they’d do to him, but the presence of the director next to him also served to let him know things would turn out just fine, if very room-filling.
Before anything happened, however, the vertical slab rotated once again, returning to a horizontal state but having the dragon hang upside down; Dresk began sweating when the bear told him they needed to “have enough clearance” for when his belly began growing, and then promptly proceeded to hang him a good seven feet in the air. Just the thought of growing that large was enough to get the dragon to respectfully ask to remove his pants, a request which was denied to “keep a basic level of decency”. It was hard to imagine how much decency there would be once he began bloating like a sausage, but when the hoses all converged on him, all concerns just seemed to vanish from his mind completely.
Dresk had imagined how it would go, but could never quite have guessed that it would feel as good as it did. The various pumps entered him in succession, only capable of delivering so much before needing to refill their internal buffer; this meant that the dragon constantly had at least one, sometimes more of them pumping the gel substance into his mouth, which he devoured as eagerly as a man lost in the desert would drink a glass of water. The material itself was chilly, enough to give him shivers, but flowed easily into his stomach, settling in far more heavily than Dresk had expected. Each gulp felt like a meal, each mouthful like a feast; though the results were less than impressive, growth-wise, the pressure was certainly more than sufficient to make him wonder where the whole thing was going.
The director was thoroughly nonplussed, observing the vital signs and gel monitors like they were the most boring thing on the planet, occasionally shooting a glance at his patient to make sure he wasn’t completely losing it. On a whim, he lowered the dragon down towards the ground, keeping him about a foot off the floor; Dresk didn’t quite understand why, at least until he felt a part of himself touch the very ground. His brain didn’t really process it properly the first time around; with his long body already feeling quite stuffed from the cold gel, it was no surprise then that he felt a lot of pressure all around. As such, it took a few seconds before he looked down and saw what had led the doctor to keep him that far off the ground: his belly.
Without even realizing it, Dresk’s stomach had swollen enough that, even when a full foot above a solid surface, he could still feel it just like he was flattened against it. Their long, tubular body, once so slender and agile, had begun to bloat in every direction but upwards, glowing gently as the material inside of him began to incubate. The coldness of it started to fade, giving way to a comforting warmth that reminded him of lazy hours spent napping underneath a blanket or in front of a fireplace; it felt less arousing and more like it was… normal. Like it was a thing he should’ve done earlier instead of waiting for so long to get around to. It became easier to swallow the successive blasts of feedstock, until litres of it were dumped into him without the dragon even realizing it.
All the while, a soft churning had begun to permeate the room, slowly overpowering the whirring and distant pumping of fluids, even managing to draw the attention of the director, whose eyes scanned the dragon’s inflated form before releasing the restraints still keeping him in one place; with a belly as full as his, nothing was needed to keep him pinned down, his sheer rotundness being more than enough for the task. Dresk’s body had become his own bed in record time, turned into a beanbag big enough for the dragon to have a hard time hugging it properly; even if he stretched his arms out as far as they went, all he accomplished was keeping his fingers a few inches off the ground, and the more he tried, the more time went past, the further the distance between himself and the floor increased.
The gurgling only grew more intense the moment the feedstock supply ran out, with a small counter just barely visible off to the side reading “CAPACITY: 10L” in bright green letters. If he’d drank that much, he wouldn’t know; all he was aware of at that time was the overwhelming sensation of fullness that permeated every new inch of him, with the padded slab six feet above his head rapidly approaching the longer the gel was allowed to incubate inside of him. Inches were added to his body with every heartbeat, with it apparently being “perfect beyond words” for the production of the healing substance, according to the director at least. If Dresk still had any semblance of himself left in his head, rather than a simple animal who demanded more and bigger, he would marvel at how incomprehensibly massive he was becoming, the weight of it all enough to start buckling some of the metal plates the ground was covered by and even pushing the scanning machinery out towards the walls. The bear, at least, seemed to be unfazed by any of it, happy to move the support racks around whenever that gurgling beast of a belly got too close.
The gel continued to build on itself, reaching critical mass and kickstarting the proper incubation procedure; everything up until then had just been a warm-up, because Dresk felt his back slam against the padded bed above him within just a few seconds of the pressure inside of him skyrocketing, throwing the entire thing off its hinges when his body ballooned with enough force to surprise even the director; this resulted in him letting out a loud curse and tripping backwards, almost falling victim to some smothering of his own as the dragon began to take over all available space. It was obvious in retrospect why they had built the room as wide as they did; Dresk’s back was reaching the ceiling just a few minutes after the process started, more or less becoming the whole room as the gel continued to incubate. It had done a wonderful job stretching him out, much like the bear had said, but even his body had limits; by the time he felt the doors bumping against him (or the other way around, really), his scales began to part, pushed aside and away from one another to show the goopy green mess underneath. Most of the dragon was now slimy gel, still roiling and building more of it, and now everyone could see it, shining through the gaps in his previously-smooth, silvery covering. It was obscene, but he didn’t care; he just wanted more of it, until he burst out of the room and kept going, taking over all of the neighboorhood, hell, the whole damn city if he had to!
And for the longest time, enough that Dresk began to honestly wonder if it would ever end, things just kept getting better. His scales grew increasingly further apart from one another, each one swimming on top of his bulging belly while surrounded by several inches of nothing but slimestuffed, pudgy durg stomach. His insides were glowing slightly as well, possibly as a result of the incubation, and each breath or heartbeat set off currents inside of that gelatinous mass that quite literally bent the floor out of shape with how dense they were. The dragon could feel his body mass smushing against the walls and then climbing over then, filling the room to capacity and threatening to smash down the very things designed to keep him contained. He could only wonder how big the rooms were if they were meant to hold someone like him, because quite frankly, all he really wanted was to gorge on that growth gel even more. It seemed unfair to him that it was all over and he had to deal with the amount he’d drank before, but at least what he did have inside of him was enough to make him want to flatten everything around them!
… but, obviously, such a thing would just not be possible; there were better things for the clinic to do than wreck their own building by overindulging a simple test subject, especially when they were meant to keep several of them at once. To that end, the director wiggled around the edges of the room, flattened against the wall by Dresk’s gigantic, green-glowing stomach, trying to find where the controls for the draining machinery were.
“A-after we’re done with the incubation,” the bear groaned, struggling to breathe against the pressure of so much gel-infused flab on his chest, “which s-should be any time now, we need to start the draining procedure. S-seems like we’ve had some great results overall, but we need to bring you down to a more manageable size; didn’t install the rooms for nothing, did we?”
Dresk wasn’t listening to a single word being said. Truth be told, he’d stopped listening to anything quite a while ago. Were he still in control of himself, he might’ve asked how big he would end up being, or how stretchy his body would become, or any number of questions meant to indulge an already overstimulated mind. But with his head stuck above a small sea of slime, feeling his heartbeat reverberate among the goop incubated inside of him, knowing that he had been stuffed so much that every scale on him was a few inches apart from the ones next to it?
… well, it was hard to focus on anything, really. If he could think about anything, it would be a miracle.
The director thus received no resistance from the placid giant as he worked with the panels that hadn’t been completely smashed by the gel-fed growth burst, finding the experience to be somewhat infuriating given the extent of the damage done to the system. They had projected their test subject’s expansion to be quite severe, but not enough to literally make the walls start to crack from the pressure, resulting in many a curse word being uttered under his breath. Thankfully for the both of them, and for the already-enormous repair bill the clinic had just incurred, they had the foresight of installing all of the necessary draining and suction equipment in the ceiling, the one place least likely to see any kind of destruction by their bloated guests. Even if most of Dresk was already taking up a lot of space up there, there was enough left that the necessary panels could open up and reveal a series of pumps connected to what looked to be a feeder tube… and something that looked suspiciously like a cock-sized suction cup.
The director said nothing when this last piece of machinery extended itself all the way to the back of the dragon’s body, plunging into the pudge in an effort to find just where Dresk’s shaft had gone to. Took a bit before it did, after which it unceremoniously fit itself onto the engorged member, with a vacuum seal around his base ensuring the tube wasn’t going anywhere. As for the rest, the mess of pumps fit snugly around the dragon’s muzzle, looking awfully like an automated feeding system, except one probably designed to suck stuff out of him rather than the other way around.
“The process is going to take far longer to shrink you than it did to fill you up, won’t lie,” the bear spoke up, having to remove his labcoat just to deal with the increase in temperature in the room when the drain pumps kicked into gear, “and I’m afraid that at your size, we can’t exactly afford anesthetics… nor could we even reach you to administer them if we could. Just going to have to power through this one, I’m afraid.”
Dresk was absolutely fine with that, or would be if his mind was anywhere remotely near where his body was. Acting more on instinct than anything else, the dragon smiled dreamily and nodded, giving the bear all the consent he needed to finally start freeing up the room from the unexpectedly massive intrusion of slime-stuffed dragon flesh. The durg himself barely noticed when the machines grinded into action; even the one around his shaft seemed inoffensive, taking its sweet time to get anywhere where he might notice it was even there. Perhaps it was the fact that the rest of him just felt so heavenly that nothing else could really compare; that could make sense, since his mind was so wracked by the unbelievably powerful maelstrom of sensations being sent to it by all of that stomach coating the ground and walls that… frankly, he could just faint. He wouldn’t, because that would mean not feeling all of that all the time, but he could. It was that powerful.
Sadly, no such thing would happen, leaving the bear unable to leave the room thanks to Dresk constantly shifting around when the pumps began to take effect in earnest. The dragon figured that a gastric pump would be a lot more painful than it ended up being. Maybe the gel was the only thing keeping it from becoming uncomfortable, but it was genuinely sort of enjoyable; the pump rate was low enough that he could still enjoy his fullness, while his rod was carefully tended to by a suction tube that was far gentler than many of his prior lovers. It wasn’t a frantic attempt at bringing him down to a manageable size as much as it was a slow, careful leak, controlled and kept steady enough so he could enjoy every second of it. Maybe it was planned that way, maybe it wasn’t; frankly, Dresk didn’t really care, nor did he have the capacity to do so.
Hours passed. At some point, the bear had enough room to squeeze out, even if it did take him a couple of hours before he could move about comfortably, that pile of blobby gel having been drained just enough to stop hugging the walls. The director would occasionally drop by, checking in on the progress and jotting it down on his clipboard, sometimes dragging an unfortunate intern who had to withstand the sight of Dresk’s body without succumbing to the sudden desire to throw themselves at it.
As for the dragon, it was hard for them to tell what time even was as a concept. His life had turned into the rhythmic suction of his stomach contents and his cock, both of which were being milked for all they were worth without any regard for what it might do to poor Dresk. Whereas on his front, the dragon got to experience the excruciatingly slow emptying of his gloriously overstuffed belly, having to endure the “pain” of every inch being lost and his scales slowly locking into place after being pulled apart for so long, on the other end of him he had been going through something akin to a continuous, hours-long orgasm that just refused to stop or reduce in intensity. Occasionally it would flare up, whenever his body gave in to the stimulation and allowed him to feel some kind of impossibly higher-level climax, but instead of returning to his baseline, the new high would become the new normal, with the next jolt driving him even higher! It was no wonder that his ability to form coherent thoughts had been shot to pieces, the dragon left a whimpering, moaning mess that could only ever hope that it would never actually end. As much as others might find his situation to be unbearable, it was exactly what the pamphlets advertised; and the only reason he was there were the pamphlets to begin with.
It still took until the very end of the day before the ground came back into reach. By that point, a good eight to nine hours after the pumps were turned on, all energy had left him; much like his body had been a blob before, it was a blob now, limp, feeble and unable to move, even when his tired hands touched the ground for the first time in so long and Dresk knew that he was finally done with the whole thing.
Now, the dragon was relieved about this, not because it was over, but because it was finished; some part of him still hoped that he could do it again in the future, preferably the near future, after the room was tidied up and the necessary repairs were done. It was probably a pipe dream, but it was all he had when the system recognized he was completely empty of the gel, loudly announced that much, and then decoupled the two pumps from him, leaving him to drool from both ends while gasping for breath.
Obviously, this is when the director walked back into the room looking like he hadn’t slept in several days and holding a stack of papers thick enough that it looked difficult to carry.
“Ah, I see you’re awake,” he sighed, “had a bit of a problem when the building started to shake, then a series of problems when people started demanding to know what was going on, and now the fire department is outside the door wanting to know why the neighbors are calling about a busted water main. So that’s my life, I guess.”
Dresk would feel bad for the man, if he wasn’t already thinking about how he could beg him for another go at the pumps and hoses.
“Meanwhile, at least the test results from you were… something. I honestly didn’t expect so much from just one person, though I should’ve seen it coming given how long and flexible your body was. Speaking of, are you feeling any different from before?”
Dresk tried to respond, only for a whimper to come out, followed by a spittle of drool and the last droplets of gel still inside him. The dragon coiled his body underneath him in a last-ditch attempt to remain decent, even if his first and foremost desire was to loudly beg for the hoses to be turned back on.
“Guess not,” the bear sighed again, “but we still need to keep you in observation. Next few test subjects should hopefully not be as destructive as you were, but just in case we’re going to reinforce the doors before doing anything else. As for you, you’ll be expected to stay nice and quiet inside your room until we call you again; the second experimental course will be run in two weeks.”
Even in his state, this was enough to make Dresk let out a sigh of relief that turned far too easily into a lurid moan, making even the bear raise an eyebrow and clear his throat. Nothing mattered to the dragon except for the fact that it was all going to happen again, that he was going to feel it all, the stuffing and growth and overflowing and scale-splitting, that it hadn’t just been a one-time thing! He barely reacted when a couple of nurses helped him to a standing position and then led him into a room, collapsing onto the bed without any thought in their head but what was going to happen afterwards.
Maybe he’d get to keep some of the size the next time...
