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Tara and the Presidents - Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2019-04-19 05:59:59 +0000 UTC
1.
‘Gr0w your c0ck b1gg3r!’
‘Get l@rg3r now!!!'
‘ENLARGE UR MANH00D!'
The daily flood filled Tara's spam folder along with the rest of the world's. It didn’t bother her a bit. In a few years, when anyone thought of actual penis enlargement, they’d be thinking of her.
Well, they'd be thinking of Gen-U-Tech, at any rate, Tara corrected herself mentally as she peered through the magnified glass tops of each of the specimens’ cells – a series of lab rats, all male, individually housed, pinned down on their backs, their undersides exposed and shaved for good measure. There was no questioning the results of the regimen. Every single specimen had increased the length and girth of its genitalia by several millimeters, which translated to double digit percentages. Triple in some cases.
A landmark breakthrough. Trillions of dollars in sales. Publication in the largest science magazines. Thoughts of fame, recognition and wealth swirled around in Tara's head. And after this went public, she could leave Gen-U-Tech and the research funding dollars would follow her wherever she went. Ideally, it would be a more respectable pharmaceutical firm that wasn’t focused solely on developing drug formulas for cosmetic improvements, like that Enhancin drug they were currently staging to debut publicly.
Tara’s nose wrinkled automatically as she reflected on the shallowness of modern society’s values and demands that would motivate a company to place so much time, money and effort on a drug that had the sole purpose of “improving a women’s figure”. Based on the white papers Tara had read, apparently “improving” consisted of a weight loss drug combined with some sort of chemically induced breast augmentation. Never mind that it had given her the idea for own current project -- the blatant superficiality and objectification were just reprehensible.
But, perhaps she was being hypocritical, Tara acknowledged to herself, adjusting her glasses on her nose as she continued peering into each box. While developing a drug for male genital enlargement wasn’t exactly going to earn her a Nobel Prize, nonetheless, it was at least a scientifically noteworthy achievement that would gain her recognition, and she still had plenty of years ahead of her to cure cancer or whatever. At least she was still doing more than other 20-year olds she knew.
As if to accentuate her point, she looked up to the observation booth at the end of the lab to see the “Presidents” in various states of disinterest. Reagan and Madison were chatting animatedly, their conversation inaudible through the thick glass window. Taylor stood to the side of them, disdainfully snapping her gum (a total violation of lab rules, Tara noted, bristling with annoyance) while scrolling through her phone.
The Presidents. Even if they'd known Tara called them that (in her head, at least), they wouldn’t have understood why. Taylor would probably have taken it as some worshipful compliment, rather than the sardonic label that it was. Maybe Reagan might get it, Tara acknowledged. She wasn't as bad as the other two, just perhaps guilty by association. And why not associate with them? Being friends with Taylor had landed Reagan the lab internship as it had the other two, by virtue of Taylor's uncle being some high up exec at Gen-U-Tech, unlike Tara who'd had to go through the wringer with multiple interviews and get in through sheer talent and a genuine interest in microbiology.
Focus on what's important, Tara told herself with a shake of the head. Whether her fellow interns were deserving or not was irrelevant. As was whether she liked them or not, or if they liked her.
***
Taylor hated Tara. She just could NOT stand this nerdy, geeky teacher's pet, giving Taylor and her friends stupid menial tasks to do. ‘Fill those pipettes.’ ‘Record those observations.’ ‘Clean those cages.’ God, what should have been a total cakewalk for the semester was wasted doing actual lab WORK. When Taylor complained to her uncle, he'd actually told her that Tara was brilliant and Taylor could learn a thing or two from her. It was completely ridiculous.
What could she possibly learn from a lame, frumpy loser like Tara, Taylor thought, with a shake of her blonde hair. I mean, just look at her.
Snapping her gum, her blue eyes narrowed in spite as she looked Tara over through the thick observation glass. Tara’s brownish, dirty blond hair was lank and greasy looking, probably hadn’t been washed in like a month, pulled back in an old lady bun, which exposed her plain, unmade up face, her brow furrowed unattractively as she squinted through thick black frame glasses at her stupid rats.
Under her lab coat, Tara wore a dowdy flower pattern, misshapen dress she must have got out of some bargain bin.
Taylor herself by contrast was of course the polar opposite, looking completely fabulous at all times, even when she was casually dressed in her workout attire like today. It didn't hurt that she’d helped herself to some trial packs of Gen-U-Tech’s yet to be released products like Enhancin, but even before she’d started that regimen, she was still easily the hottest girl on campus. And now even though Madison and Reagan were on Enhancin too, they still came nowhere close to competing.
Taylor looked contemptuously at the two of them gabbing away. Suck-up Madison would give anything to be like her. She even dyed her hair blonde and got fake blue contacts to look more like Taylor. It was completely pathetic.
At least Reagan wasn’t trying so blatantly to copy her and kept her brunette hair the way it was. Taylor might have admired that if Reagan wasn’t overall such a spineless follower. Of course neither of them were nearly as pathetic or annoying as Tara.
As if to prove her point, Tara’s voice invaded the observation booth through the intercom.
“Prep another aerosol dose, please.”
Taylor rolled her eyes as she pulled a canister from the sanitizer. “What if we gave Tara a dose of this stuff?”
Madison predictably laughed immediately and loudly, pushing a hand through her fake blonde mane. “Maybe she’d grow some hair on her tits,” she said crudely.
“Like she even has any boobs,” Taylor said dismissively, and Madison’s eyes dropped in deference to the cutting remark. “She’d probably start talking like this,” Taylor said, dropping her voice several octaves.
Madison guffawed like a donkey and even Reagan tittered nervously at that.
“Guys, do you mind?” Tara’s voice came over the intercom, holding a trace of annoyance. “We're only booked for another 40 minutes.”
“You know what,” Taylor said, eyes glittering maliciously. “Let’s find out for real.”
“Here,” she said, handing the empty canister to Reagan.
“Load it up.”
“What’re you going to do,” Reagan asked nervously, taking the canister from Taylor and loading it into the dispenser.
“You’ll see,” Taylor answered opaquely.
***
Reagan punched Tara's latest trial formula into the chemical sequencer, hesitating before hitting the blinking green button. She glanced up to see Taylor not paying her any attention, instead staring out at Tara with intense dislike. Madison was doing the same, while intermittently glancing over at Taylor to see if she was looking.
Reagan bit her lip indecisively. She actually liked Tara, though she could never openly admit it to Taylor or Madison, both of whom she half feared and half admired. Admitting that would be almost as bad as admitting that she were bisexual and even sort of attracted to Tara's amazing intellect.
Eyes darting between her friends and the console, Reagan impulsively pressed a few buttons, adding five units of the Enhancin formula to the chemical makeup before launching the sequencer. She felt her heart rate accelerate as the contents injected into the canister with a forceful vibration. She had no idea what would happen, but hopefully it would counteract some of the effects of the exposure to Tara’s formula. After all, they were essentially opposites right?
At any rate, Reagan hoped nothing bad would happen, and she handed the now full, heavy canister back to Taylor, who fiddled with it for a moment before dropping it into the transfer chamber. There was a hiss as the chamber became an instant vacuum and then Tara was able to open it on her side, retrieving the canister and attaching it to the controlled release dispenser with expert, experienced hands, completely unaware.
***
“Trial series 487, Confirmation round 2. May 28th, 12:22 pm,” Tara dictated aloud for the benefit of her video recording log.
She peered into the chemical release chamber where a lab rat inquisitively sniffed around, as she reached over without looking to activate the aerosol dispenser. The moment Tara hit the button, she knew something was wrong. Listening to the machine work over and over again, trial after trial, hour over hour, for days and weeks on end, she knew it like her own voice.
Automatically, she turned toward the dispenser just as there was a loud popping sound, followed by a piercing hissing of the escaping gas, blowing directly into her face.
“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!”
Tara had no idea if she was just thinking it or saying it aloud. Panic drove all reason and logic from her brilliant head.
“Oh shit..!”
Her rational mind took over a second after that, and she whirled around to hit the emergency air decompression button on the wall behind her. She took two steps before her legs suddenly gave out and she fell to her knees with a strangled cry.
There was a tingling sensation at first, which quickly built to a burning sensation all over her entire body from head to toe, and she clutched herself, not in pain precisely, but overwhelmed by the intensity. Her vision blurred and the room swam out of focus.
Tara felt a thrill of fear run through her as her hands gripping her own arms felt a rippling beneath her fingertips, pulsing and throbbing in some fluid and alien manner.
What’s happening..? She had a moment to think before a new wave of intense burning ignited from the middle of her chest, seeming to radiate from the inside out.
Tara cried out and her hands flew to her chest, clutching her breasts as she felt them pulse and throb as well and then she realized incredulously that they were growing, expanding, at a prodigious rate, to an enormous size. Her bra could not contain them, the straps were digging in, threatening to cut her and then suddenly it gave way, snapping, with an enormous relief of pressure. But the relief was short lived, as the pressure began to quickly build again, this time the fabric of her dress constraining her rapidly expanding bust. Without a thought, Tara grasped at the neckline and tore at the front, easily ripping the fabric with unexpected strength, the tattered remains falling around her waist as her still growing breasts, huge, round, high, sprang free heavily.
Dimly Tara registered that she was pinching her own nipples, taut and erect, burning.
The sensation of being on fire was beginning to fade and she felt that whatever was happening was finally being to subside, but the tingling didn’t disappear entirely, still persisting between her legs, and growing in a new wave of intensity.
Oh no… what’s happening now..?!
The new wave continued building, but this time there was also a sensation of growing pressure. Her hands went underneath her tattered dress, clutching herself and peripherally she registered that her underwear was completely soaked through.
The burning and pressure built in tandem, reaching a point of discomfort that was practically unbearable. Tara could feel her loins throbbing, blazing hot beneath her hands, and she let out a choking gasp, as her head snapped forward, the glasses flying from her face. Tara was startled at the sudden clarity, as the room immediately came back into sharp focus through her bulging eyes, but the surprise was quickly overtaken, overwhelmed by the all consuming pressure.
And then it seemed to happen all at once: Tara felt something within her seem to surge and suddenly come forth and then a feeling of immense relief, something akin to emptying her bladder, yet so strong it nearly bordered on pleasure. And at the same time she felt something, thick, hard, hot and wet protrude from between her legs, filling the front of her panties.
She pulled her dress up with one hand, looking down in horror at the bulge in her panties , throbbing and quivering, growing with each pulse and then it grew beyond the hemline of her underpants, a protruding massive erect phallus, hard and shining, and she felt an involuntary suffocating feeling of it pinned against her, bound by her soaked panties, even as the pressure continued to build to intolerable, excruciating limits.
Tara immediately complied with some base uncontrollable urge, mindlessly grabbing the thick, heavy organ, pulling it free, and only then as she clutched it did the pressure suddenly give way like a dam, as a both foreign and familiar feeling of release burst forth.
Tara’s head flung back as she cried out, her huge erection throbbing in her hand as it spewed out, ejaculating thick, sticky spurts of semen.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhh!”
And everything went black.
***
“Holy shit!”
Taylor, Madison and Reagan stood stunned, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. They had seen the canister leak, practically blasting Tara in the face, and then she had fallen to her knees. It was what followed that strained belief. They watched in amazement as her body became a blur of movement. Her arms had become leaner yet more toned, losing fat and gaining muscle before their very eyes.
They watched as her hair grew longer and fuller, turning from dirty blond to pure golden. Madison gasped aloud as Tara tore the front of her dress to pieces, revealing a chest bigger than a pornstar's and the flat, toned stomach of a fitness instructor. And then things had completely crossed into the surreal when she lifted up her dress and grown a massive cock before their very eyes, climaxing and then collapsing into a heap on the floor.
“Shit,” Taylor swore again, slamming her palm on the emergency air evac system. There was a loud roaring as all the contaminated air was sucked from the chamber, following by a loud hissing as the lab was re-pressurized. The light next to the airlock door turned green and Taylor tore it open.
After a moment’s hesitation, Madison and Reagan followed. “Let’s get her out of here,” Taylor commanded, grabbing one of Tara’s limp arms. “God, I hope she’s not fucking dead!
“Madison, grab her other arm. Reagan, clean this mess up!”
Tara’s head lolled forward bonelessly as Taylor and Madison unceremoniously dragged her from the lab, leaving Reagan behind.
Reagan's heart pounded as she took the empty canister from the dispenser and threw it into one of the sanitizers. No one must ever find out what they did. Forget the internship, they could get expelled for something like this. What if Tara really was dead? Reagan didn't think so, but what if?! There would be criminal charges.
Reagan spent the next 15 minutes carefully straightening up everything, putting the lab back into pristine condition before finally donning a pair of rubber gloves, getting a spray bottle of bleach and a bunch of shop towels, then turning her attention to the translucent white, sticky puddles on the ground.
This was… Semen.
It had come from Tara’s cock…
She had orgasmed and squirted all over the floor…
Wrinkling her nose, Reagan got down on her hands and knees and began wiping up the mess. She could feel the warmth of it through her gloves, the distinct smell of ejaculation wafting up at her. There was so much of it, far more than the few tablespoons or whatever it was supposed to be.
Reagan crawled along the floor, wiping up the sticky mess, looking for any spots she missed and then she sprayed the entire area with bleach and wiped it down again.
She gave it a final look over and then just as she was about to stand up, she saw Tara’s glasses on the ground and she reached over and picked them up. There on the left lens was an errant glob of white semen.
Reagan held the glasses up, pruriently intrigued again for a moment, fascinated by the sticky, milky glob running slowly down the lens. Her mind flashed again to Tara, on her knees, head flung back, mouth open, her fingers wrapped around her shaft as it squirted…
And then Reagan’s tongue suddenly darted out and licked, lapping the lens, swallowing.
Her eyes went wide as she dropped the glasses, standing up, coughing, gagging, her hands to her throat. Why the fuck had she done that?!
She fled the lab.
Comments
Rikimaru
Sorry Patrons, some formatting breaks were missing from the story to denote POV shifts. Fixed now. Hopefully that didn't bother you/spoil the story much... I know it can be distracting!
