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RR Vignettes #3 - Taylor Becotte
🕑 Added 2023-06-22 16:00:10 +0000 UTCDr. Taylor Becotte’s small office at RR Laboratories had a similar footprint to her peers. Framed scientific illustrations and diagrams took center stage, capturing the intricate details of the male and female reproductive systems. In one corner of the office stood a small bookshelf filled with textbooks, research papers, academic literature, and journals meticulously cross-categorized by topic and frequency of reference. Sprinkled throughout the office were personal touches that served to accent Dr. Becotte’s own femininity and personality.
Each doctor who earned an office at RR Laboratories was afforded the option of choosing the color of their office walls. Most of the doctors seemed satisfied to stick with the standard light version of RR purple, but Dr. Becotte opted for her favorite color: a delightful mixture of periwinkle and light sky blue. It was the color of her dormitory walls in college and something about the color mixture had a way of aligning her focus while also calming her mind.
Atop the small bookshelf of academic literature were several potted plants containing orchids, daisies, and violets. To Dr. Becotte, the small arrangement of plants not only added a touch of greenery to her professional office space but to the young doctor, it also symbolized growth, regeneration, and even feminine strength. The vivid colors and fresh scents infused the office with life and vibrancy.
Serving as both a functional tool and a decorative piece expressing her personality, a sleek microscope took pride of placement atop her desk. A treasured gift from one of her first mentors, Dr. Becotte was reminded every time she used or even looked at the microscope just how much a woman can achieve if she sets her mind and heart to the task.
The brilliant, beautiful young doctor’s Master’s Degree in Reproductive Biology & Physiology hung proudly on a wall. It was right next to and perfectly level with three framed certificates, one for each consecutive year of her beauty pageant run as Miss Wisconsin. She’d have competed for and secured a fourth no problem if not for her employment with RR Laboratories.
Below her various accolades was a push-pin bulletin board filled with 4x6 photographs. Some of the photos were of Dr. Becotte aside colleagues and mentors, capturing the shared moments of scientific exploration and collaboration. Other photos were of Taylor sunbathing at the beach in colorful bathing suits with her sister Sabrina or dressed up in cute little dresses with peep-toe shoes, drinking just a little too much wine, and laughing at fancy dinners.
She took a deep breath of the flowery fragrance filling her office as she completed her final email of the morning. She found the more she advanced further in her career and subject-matter expertise, the longer it took to stay caught up on her emails!
Dr. Becotte drummed her toes, clad in socks of black with light blue stripes, against the ergonomic office footrest as she handled each email with attentive care. The recently purchased footrest came highly recommended by one of her supervisors, Dr. Bexley. It was stationed under her desk next to the sneakers she’d worn that morning, a pair of running shoes, flip flops, and her purse.
As if timed perfectly with the completion of her task, a Microsoft Outlook notification pulled her emerald-green eyes to the bottom right corner of her computer screen. It was time for the next assignment of the day.
The beautiful blonde doctor smiled, happily slipping her feet back into her sneakers and rising from her desk. Humming a pop song she’d heard on the radio that morning, Dr. Becotte lifted her white lab coat from the hook at the door and slid it on over top of her faded blue jeans and sunny yellow short-sleeved summer top that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage.
After double-checking to make sure her office door was fully shut and locked behind her, Dr. Becotte made the short walk down the corridor to one of the Subject Storage Facilities. It was known by RR Labs staff as SSF-2, which they pronounced phonetically as “SEF 2”
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The heavy door of SSF-2 made a chunky, unlatching sound immediately after the confirmatory chirp of the Security card reader. The room was slightly warmer than she’d have liked, which made the young doctor grateful that SSF-2 duties such as signing subjects in and out as well as feeding them was a task usually reserved for interns.
“Good morning, Allison.” Dr. Becotte said politely to the intern behind the desk near the door.
The intern’s eyes widened to see the doctor enter, her mouth full of what Dr. Becotte deduced was a bite of a jelly donut, sized generously just as Allison was. She covered her mouth until she could quickly swallow the bite.
“Hi, Dr. Becotte!” Allison replied cheerfully, “How are you doing this morning?”
“I’m good. Thanks for asking. How’s it going working with Dr. Zhang?”
“Oh, it’s going great!” Allison shared emphatically. “She’s so nice and she’s teaching me a lot!”
“I’m happy to hear it! How are things going with the vitamin regimen?” Dr. Becotte asked, now looking around the facility at the various sized containers of various sized subjects waiting to begin rear-housing.
“I’m learning a lot!” Allison replied. “We’re tinkering with the functional groups, tweaking the carbon chains, and introducing novel substituents to enhance the efficacy and bioavailability of essential compounds. We also made a really big breakthrough toward adding flavor.”
“That sounds great. I think you’re getting along great here, Allison.”
“How is ‘The Third R’?” Allison asked.
Dr. Becotte’s lip twitched, “You know I’m not allowed to discuss The Third R.”
“No, no! I know!” Allison blurted nervously, “I just meant…I heard that Jenn Hernandez was transferred to The Third R. I was just..you know…hoping that she is enjoying it over there…that’s all.”
The beautiful blonde doctor smiled. She didn’t fault Allison for her curiosity. Curiosity, after all, was what got each of them where they are today. It was the sturdy foundation upon which RR Labs rested. Allison surely was not the only intern that was curious either. Dr. Becotte had no doubt that The Third R was a relatively common topic brought up when they got together in their group offices, performed tasks, or huddled together for lunch. She also had no doubt that any conversations about The Third R were entirely speculative and ended abruptly with little or no confirmed information.
Allison wiped a bit of sugar from her lips with her finger, prompting Dr. Becotte to retrieve a single tissue from the breast pocket of her lab coat and hand it to the intern. The thick, comfortable, and expensive lab coats with the name stitching over the breast like the one that Dr. Becotte was wearing were reserved for RR Lab scientists and doctors only. They had to be earned.
Like all the other interns, Allison’s lab coat was paper-thin and disposable. The buxom young woman disproved the assertion that the disposable lab coats in stock at RR Labs were ‘one-size-fits-all’ as the paper-thin material looked as if it was stretched uncomfortably tight over Allison’s belly. On more than one occasion, the cheap, overworked plastic buttons would pop when the intern bent at the waist or sat down. Dr. Becotte considered telling Allison that she’d placed an order for larger sized disposable lab coats last week but ultimately decided not to bring it up as it might make the voluptuous intern self-conscious.
“So what brings you to SSF-2?” Allison asked, wiping a smidge of powdered sugar off the lapel of her lab coat.
“Just needed to check out a subject.” Dr. Becotte replied.
“Okay sure! For installation?” Allison chirped energetically, leafing through some papers in front of her, “I’ve got three here that are on standby for rear-install sometime this week or next; last I heard, we were just making travel arrangements for the Participants. Why? Is one of them here?”
“Oh, no. This isn’t for rear-installation.” Dr. Becotte clarified. “It’s just a routine sample collection. Do you have any subjects that have not yet undergone Acclimation Therapy?”
Allison frowned and bit her lip, “Hmm….I’m not sure. Brandi was just through earlier and she scooped up several of the newbies.”
“Gotcha. Was that your first time meeting her?” Dr. Becotte asked.
“Yes! She is SUPER friendly and cheerful!” Allison blurted with a smile, “...and she’s so good at her job!”
“Yeah, she’s great. Very hard worker.” Dr. Becotte added.
Lemme check to see if there were any that she didn’t grab yet...” Allison said slowly as she read her logbook.
The buxom, brunette intern’s curls bounced at her cheeks as she scanned the documents in her logbook, flipping page after page. Her chubby index finger ran down a long page containing more ink than white space and it stopped as her brown eyes widened.
“Ahh! Here we go…” Allison read aloud, “...SUBJECT-318j.”
“Okay, great…” Dr. Becotte removed a tiny, sky-blue notebook from her breast pocket.
“And he hasn’t had any gluteal confinement or buttock exposure since his reduction? Not even with Brandi?” Dr. Becotte asked.
Allison double checked the paperwork, “Nope! No confinement, no contact. He completed Reduction Therapy last week, received his assignment shot, and was actually just upgraded from SSF-1 to SSF-2 last week.”
“Oh, okay. So he’s VERY brand new.” Dr. Becotte jotted down some more notes.
“Mm-hmm!” Allison replied, eager and proud to agree with Dr. Becotte, but then a frown grew on her cherubic, chubby face. “...oh….but he’s actually scheduled for Acclimation Therapy with Brandi at 11:30AM.”
Dr. Becotte looked at the clock. It was 10:58AM.
“I believe Brandi’s only planning on checking him out for 30 minutes while she eats her lunch. I can pencil you in to take him right after Brandi brings him back.”
“Oh, that won’t work for me.” Dr. Becotte stated plainly and firmly. “The subject needs to have had NO contact with the female rear end post-reduction.”
Allison winced and her eyes squinted, “Right, you did say that. Umm….“....should I try to find another?”
“No, I’ll take him.” Dr. Becotte tucked her notebook back into her breast pocket.
Allison looked uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have him back in time for his acclimation session with Brandi. If not, you can let her know I needed him.” Dr. Becotte promised.
“Okay, Dr. Becotte. I’ll go get him ready for you.” Allison replied, her chair scraping the floor as she rose. Three plastic buttons popped on Allison’s lab coat, granting Dr. Becotte an unrequested view of the shifting and undulating wave of Allison’s more-than-ample belly and breasts under her t-shirt. The seams of the labored lab coat were abruptly stretched back together as the busty, thick intern hurriedly speed walked to the filing cabinet. Her fingers danced over dozens and dozens of pale blue manilla folders, finally pulling out a single folder and shutting the cabinet drawer with her wide hip. While reviewing the contents of the folder in her hand, Allison walked toward one of the confinement enclosures and quickly removed a small 2-inch tall subject.
“No need for the traveling enclosure.” Dr. Becotte put forth, looking at her wrist watch.
There was more concern on Allison’s face. Dr. Becotte knew that carrying subjects loose was against policy but she was already very limited on how much time she had to conduct her business with subject-318j.
“Don’t worry. If anyone says anything, I’ll get in trouble….not you.” Dr. Becotte comforted Allison with a smile, stuffing the pale blue manilla folder into her armpit. Her acceptance of subject-318j from Allison was somehow even more unceremonious than accepting his file. The beautiful blonde doctor was in a rush and didn’t even bother looking at him as she encased his squirming, naked body within her bare, cupped palms.
Allison smiled, relief showing on her face. “Okay, Dr. Becotte. Just sign at the last column here and I’ll fill everything else out for you.”
“Thanks Allison!” Dr. Becotte said, cupping the subject against her hip as she signed the logbook. Still feeling the subject wriggling against the rough material of her lab coat and palm, trapping him against her hip just long enough to open the heavy door and leave SSF-2.
Dr. Becotte turned right down the corridor toward her specialized and confidential work area. She peered into the fitness center and there was a single blonde woman on an exercise bike. Her shapely rear made the exercise bike seat look comically small and the expensive material of her leggings shimmered in the light.
It was Brandi, the Assistant Acclimation Therapist.
Dr. Becotte smirked, watching Brandi’s thick legs pump the bike pedals, each large, curvy buttock alternating in lifting ever-so-slightly from the seat until the other came up. No doubt there was a subject pinned between that expansive bottom and the small, firm bike seat. No doubt Brandi was cleverly doing some multi-tasking, getting in a nice long workout before lunch while also conducting a rigorous acclimation session for one of the subjects awaiting rear installation.
Brandi mopped some sweat from her forehead and adjusted her headphones. She continued her rigorous workout, not noticing Dr. Becotte standing at the doorway smiling in approval and then retreating to the large door marked RESTRICTED ACCESS.
The door was even heavier than the SSF-2 door and unlike the SSF-2, this door was restricted to a very small group of RR Lab scientists and interns. The door was littered with restrictions and instructions on who to contact in the case of a power outage or if general access was needed.
Dr. Becotte scanned her security badge and then rested her chin on a curved bar protruding parallel to the floor at about neck-level. A mild laser systematically scanned her green eyes. After the retinal scan completed, she spoke clearly into a wall-mounted speaker.
“Taylor Becotte.”
The system took about 2 seconds to process all the security information it had just received. The silence was broken as the door unlatched, granting access to Dr. Becotte. The blonde doctor used both hands to pull the door open.
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The room was spacious, encompassing a carefully organized layout designed to facilitate the complex and highly secretive experiments conducted within its walls. The positive air pressure that had made opening the door difficult now assisted Dr. Becotte in assuring that it was sealed shut and secure behind her. The air hummed with a low, constant vibration of advanced machinery. Dr. Becotte had often called it “the soundtrack of scientific progress”.
Dominating the lab were several large, custom-built workstations, each equipped with a range of state-of-the-art instruments and specialized equipment. Microscopes with high-resolution imaging capabilities decorated each workstation, allowing for detailed examination of the miniature reproductive systems. A young latina woman dutifully moved between the sink and the workstations, meticulously arranging glassware, pipettes, and delicate surgical tools at each station.
The young latina woman looked up from the sink and smiled.
“Hello, Dr. Becotte.”
Dr. Becotte shot a smile and friendly wave, continuing deeper into the technologically dense labspace. She normally would have chatted with Jenn for a few moments, having not seen her since last night but the ever-ticking clock informed her that she now only had 27 minutes until she’d have to surrender subject–318j to Brandi for his first acclimation session.
It was clear that Jenn understood Dr. Becotte’s non-verbal communication and that perceptive synchronicity between the two of them was one of the many reasons Dr. Becotte was happy to have Jenn as an assistant.
The lab's walls were lined with whiteboards covered in excitedly scribbled equations from team meetings as well as surface-mounted electronic displays depicting intricate diagrams, data charts, and research findings. They served as visual guides, tracking the progress of ongoing experiments, and enabling collaboration and brainstorming among the team members.
She continued on past the central island in the middle of the lab, referred to by Dr. Becotte’s team as “The Heart”. The Heart housed a state-of-the-art bioinformatics and computational genomics analysis module. A large LED display pointed in each cardinal direction, the four screens alive with complex simulations, genetic analyses, and virtual, interactive models of both the male and female reproductive systems. Dr. Becotte would spend half of her time here, unraveling the intricacies and establishing ambitious theories and paths forward as they relate to post-RT subject fertility and reproductive compatibility.
She pulled out a chair and took a seat at one of the workstations that Jenn had already finished preparing and set the subject down on the counter. He stared up at Dr. Becotte with a mixture of fascination and trepidation on his face and shaking hands covering his genitals. Dr. Becotte was unphased and unresponsive, scribbling some notes into her sky-blue notebook and occasionally clocking his location with her peripheral vision to make sure he didn’t wander off.
Dr. Becotte set her pen down along the spine of her notebook and reached into the tray of the microscope to retrieve a clean glass slide. She set it down in front of the confused, trembling subject who was still covering his treasured anatomy.
Obviously that wouldn’t last.
“Good afternoon, subject-318j.” Dr. Becotte said, folding her hands on the tabletop.
He was quiet for a moment and it wasn’t until Dr. Becotte raised a single dark eyebrow that the thought of responding to her even occurred to him.
“Who are you? What am I doing here?” subject-318j asked.
“Well, THAT is a great question with so many possible answers…” Dr. Becotte replied playfully, opening the blue manilla folder she’d received from Allison when signing out the subject. “...but the simplest answer I can give you right now is that you’re here to help me.”
“Help you with what?” subject-318j asked cautiously.
“Oh, I just need a specimen sample.” Dr. Becotte replied innocently, shuffling a few strands of blonde hair from her eyeline and. She scooted the thin microscope slide so close to the subject that he was forced to step up on top of it or fall onto it. When his hands rushed out to his sides to find balance, Dr. Becotte’s cat-like eyes managed to steal a quick look.
He was still soft.
That was okay.
‘Although…’ Dr. Becotte thought, looking at her wrist watch. ‘...time stops for no woman.’
Beneath a mane of beautiful blonde hair, Dr. Becotte’s ears twitched as if she were a predator alerted to the weak sound of nearby prey.
He was speaking to her again.
“I….I have a phobia of needles…and I…don’t think I could survive one at this..size..” subject-318j stammered.
Dr. Becotte smiled, “Oh, don’t worry! You’re not giving me a blood sample. You’re giving me a semen sample.”
She saw the shock on his face, typical of just about every subject that came before him and likely every subject after him. Sometimes it was fun to lean into it, but Dr. Becotte was working with limited time, so things had to move along quickly.
“If you could get started, that would be great.” Dr. Becotte said, removing one of the forms from the stack of papers in the blue manilla folder . Her eyes came back up from her work to see the subject standing motionless on the slide, still clutching his privates.
Dr. Becotte raised an eyebrow, extending the end of her pen and gently hooking it between the subject’s abdomen and right hand. With careful, gentle pressure, she forced his hand away from his member, revealing a soft penis.
“Hmmm….” Dr. Becotte thought out loud. “You’re not going to give me any problems, are you subject-318j?”
She had a specialized tool for such occasions.
Dr. Becotte looked over at the semen extraction tool behind the oblivious subject. It had two ends, one of which was a vibrating probe and the other end was a miniature suction device that fed a tiny reservoir. The vibrating probe end was inserted into the subject’s rectum while the other end was adhered to the tip of the subject’s penis. The device granted its controller the ability to not only impart an erection on the subject but also force an orgasm.
There were two problems, however, with the semen extraction device: first problem, forcibly extracting semen from the subject proved to result in an inferior quantity of specimen as compared to voluntary secretion. The larger problem was time. It would take too long to install the semen extraction device. In fact, under Dr. Becotte’s watchful eye, Jenn learned the hard way that rushing through inserting the probes could destroy the subject if inserted too deep or the vibration and suction settings set too high.
Luckily, the subject seemed to feel intimidated enough by Dr. Becotte’s raised eyebrow and stern gaze to slowly and reluctantly began stroking his genitals.
Dr. Becotte sifted through the documents in the blue manilla folder and found a few printed photographs of the Participant to whom subject-318j was going to be assigned.
There were several photographs of her buttocks from a variety of angles, some taken from the lab on the day of her screening and others posted proudly for the world to see on social media. Dr. Becotte smiled when she came to the last photograph, which was taken from the Participant’s social media during their preliminary social media background check.
‘Oh, I remember her.’ Dr. Becotte thought.
Her name was Joy Redmond. Like most candidate Participants, Joy was skeptical of the experiment, remarking in less professional terms that getting paid to keep a size-reduced male buried between her buttocks for several hours a day sounded ‘too good to be true’. However, unlike most women who were looking for a quick and easy paycheck, there was something special about Joy. She agreed wholeheartedly to the terms of gluteal confinement, objecting in no way to the idea of the subject residing in her rear but Dr. Becotte detected something else in her tone. A unique tone of maturity beyond her years and uncommon compassion beyond her tough appearance. There was something else that motivated her to take on this responsibility.
Dr. Becotte heard a light whimper. She looked over the top of the photograph down to the subject.
His hand circled and pumped a semi-soft penis.
Dr. Becotte couldn’t help but roll her eyes, glancing at her watch again. She was running out of time. She got an idea, holding up the photograph of Joy Redmond for the tiny subject to view.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Dr. Becotte asked.
She could see in subject-318j’s widening eyes and stiffening penis that he agreed.
“The sooner you finish providing me with your sample, the sooner I can send you home.”
Dr. Becotte found amusement in the fact that he’d find out very soon that his understanding and her understanding of ‘his home’ were quite different.
The pumping of his tiny hand intensified and Dr. Becotte leaned in attentively to watch, but seconds turned to a full minute and then she sighed deeply as she watched his stiff penis begin to deflate.
“Are you kidding me?” Dr. Becotte grumbled under her breath as she sat back in her chair. It was just her luck that she’d grab a subject with performance anxiety.
“Please….I’m trying..I just…I just want to go home…” subject-318j stuttered as he continued to pump his softening genitalia.
Dr. Becotte sighed with exasperation, realizing that she may have wasted her time with this one. She was skimming through the subject’s documentation, preparing to return him to the SSF, when her eyes connected with some potentially useful information about his interests.
‘Oh god, another one…’ Dr. Becotte thought, trying her best not to roll her eyes.
Actually….
…this was actually a good thing.
“Justin…” Dr. Becotte uttered in a low, whispery voice. His ears immediately perked up.
“I know you’re having a hard time..but you’re doing better than any other subject in your position. Did you know that?”
It most certainly was not true and Dr. Becotte’s patience was wearing thin but the subject stared up with wonder in his eyes, appearing moved by Dr. Becotte’s lie. Dr. Becotte untied the laces on her left sneaker and slid her sock-clad foot from its confines. She had to lean in order to reach, fully aware that her cotton-clad breasts were now pressing against the surface of the table.
The subject appeared fully aware as well.
Dr. Becotte followed his gaze down to her perky breasts splayed out atop the tabletop and then shot an aloof smile…as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.
The beautiful blonde doctor maintained eye contact with the intrigued and confused subject as she hooked a thumb into the band of her left sock and peeled it down her foot. As the cold air of the lab kissed her bare toes, Dr. Becotte raised her left hand above the table top, revealing one of her socks. The blue stripes that circled the black sock may as well have been markings etched on a talisman that the attentive subject would have followed to oblivion. It was just a sock to her, but she proudly confirmed that his penis was stiffening again and the speed of his pumps intensified.
She raised the sock to her face and breathed in through her nose. The scent left behind on the well worn sock was the pleasantly strong aroma of her Madagascar Vanilla Bliss foot lotion with subtle, accruing notes of her foot’s natural aroma. Judging from the excerpt in his file, Dr. Becotte was confident that subject-318j would love the opportunity to appreciate the blonde doctor’s choice in foot lotion.
She gently draped the well-worn sock next to the subject standing on the slide and his eyes practically bulged from his head.
“Do you like the scent, Justin? It’s Madagascar Vanilla Bliss.” Dr. Becotte beamed proudly, “...and me.
She tilted her head and smiled down at him. “Which do you like better?”
She didn’t particularly care which scent he liked better, but she wanted to remind him that the worn sock only inches from him had been hugging her foot since 6am this morning.
It was working like a charm.
“You’re doing so well, Justin! I need you to go even faster, okay? Do you think that you could do that for me, Justin?” Dr. Becotte asked, affectionate and encouragement dripping from a voice composed more of whispery, seductive breath than vocal chords.
Dr. Becotte observed that subject-318j responded quite well to her strategy of positive reinforcement and the pleasant aroma of her feet.
“I need it, Justin. I need it so, sooooooo bad.” Dr. Becotte whined with dramatic over-emphasis, her thick lower lip pouting to an extent she considered comical but it apparently was pushing the simple, increasingly predictable mind of subject-318j to new platforms of ecstasy.
Dr. Becotte could tell he was close, but there were still opportunities to increase the magnitude of the ever-growing and ever-approaching sample. The beautiful blonde doctor brushed her wavy hair off her shoulders and leaned back, relaxing into the backrest of her chair. Dr. Becotte maintained full eye contact with the subject as she lifted her left leg into the air and gently rested her bare heel directly atop her black and blue striped sock. She almost laughed at the way subject-318j responded. His tiny naked body trembled as he stared up at the monolithic bare foot, his grip on his penis tightened, and the pumping became frantic.
Dr. Becotte wiggled her short, chubby toes that stood atop what must have looked like a godlike monument of heel and soft, smooth sole to the subject. She wondered if he could see the cute toe ring decorating her middle toe. A smirk spread across her face as she herself took just a moment to appreciate how the pale pink jewel glimmered in the light. It was a delightful coincidence that she’d decided to wear this toe ring today. More serendipitous was the fact that of all the jewels compatible with this toe ring, she’d selected the pale pink jewel to thread onto the tiny metal foot jewelry. This toe ring and especially the pale pink jewel had proved useful in the past in a very different way when it came to the handling and care of subjects.
Dr. Becotte’s eyes danced between her wiggling toes and subject-318j’s reaction, her face a theatrical, forced mixture of fascination and joy as if it were both of them exploring and experiencing the gorgeous doctor’s body for the first time.
Dr. Becotte leaned in closer to him while also allowing her left foot to turn outward to rest on its outward edge. Her pinky toe touched the same tabletop that the subject’s slide rested upon and he barely stood taller than her middle toe. If he didn’t see the beautiful toe ring, he definitely saw it now.
The beautiful blonde doctor gently closed her hand around her ankle and slowly shifted the foot closer to the masturbating subject. She could see a longing in his eyes. A longing that was probably always there but most men have the resolve and constitution to keep hidden. Dr. Becotte was chipping away at that resolve to get what she wanted.
She was overwhelming him.
She knew that.
She kept going.
Dr. Becotte pressed the long side of her index finger into the natural curl of her toes where they met the pad of her foot.
“You could fit so nicely here, dontcha think?” Dr. Becotte teased as she scrunched her chubby toes down, completely concealing her index finger. “Wouldn’t you like to cuddle up with my soft vanilla toes?”
The beautiful blonde doctor let out an authentic chuckle as the subject’s knees nearly gave out. It was so amusing to see something as innocuous and normal as her bare left foot exerting so much power and control over the little subject. She squinted to see if he had achieved orgasm but there was no specimen yet.
He was so close…and with all this hard work the load would be substantial for sure.
“Keep doing it, Justin! I can tell you’re soooo close! I can tell you’re ready to explode. You want to explode for me!”
She wiggled her toes closer to the subject, the underside of her big toe close enough for him to touch…and he did.
The stimulation pushed him over the edge as his mouth widened and the miniature veins in his neck bulged. The subject had reached orgasm and was now ejaculating onto the slide beneath him.
“Yes! Yes! You’re doing it, Justin! Oh, keep going! I need ALL OF IT! ALL OF IT, Justin!” Dr. Becotte cheered, encouraging subject-318j to pump every droplet of semen out onto the glass slide.
The subject was still masturbating despite the flow of semen stopping several pumps ago. Satisfied that she’d extracted from him as much as she was going to get, Dr. Becotte’s barefoot retreated from the table top. She stretched the mouth of her vanilla-fragrant sock and wiggled her five toes in. Nestled back in the vanilla cotton, Dr. Becotte stuffed her sock-clad foot back into her sneaker. The doctor dismissively shooed the subject off the slide with her left hand and lifted it to her eyeline with her right hand.
Dr. Becotte carefully examined the load.
It was small but for a subject of his diminutive size, the volume was more than acceptable.
A gasping and trembling subject-318j reached out to touch a finger on Dr. Becotte’s resting left hand. Dr. Becotte did not lean into the subject’s touch nor did she push him away.
She completely ignored him.
Dr. Becotte had already inserted the slide into the microscope and was examining the specimen when she heard the subject’s feeble voice asking if he could go home now.
There was impatience and annoyance in the beautiful blonde doctor’s eyes when she lifted her face from the microscope to look down at the gasping, trembling subject.
“Jenn!” Dr. Becotte said loudly enough for the intern to hear. The young latina intern approached and she locked eyes with the concerned, confused subject.
“Can you take subject-318j back to SSF-2 and sign him back in with Allison? He’s got an acclimation session appointment with Brandi in a few minutes.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Becotte.” Jenn said.
Dr. Becotte had already returned her full focus to the microscope as Jenn unceremoniously scooped the spent subject into a disposable containment unit that was just large enough for his body to fit.
“Shhhhh…” Jenn offered superficial, condescending comfort to the subject’s weak struggles and feeble protests as she capped the container shut and slipped it into the breast pocket of her paper-thin lab coat.
~
