The Breakthrough Bbc Pheromone

Chapter 1: The Breakthrough

In a dimly lit basement laboratory at Duke University, 20-year-old research assistant Hailey Vaughn pressed her trembling hand against the two-way glass of the observation room. Her young, supple body shuddered as an orgasm ripped through her, threatening to steal her consciousness. Her eyes crossed, and only the insistent blinking of the alarm and the buzzing of the monitoring equipment snapped her back to reality. Gasping, she yanked her hand from her soaked slit, flipped a series of switches with shaking fingers, and collapsed into a chair, her knees wobbling beneath her.

Fumbling with her headset, Hailey noticed the mic button was already depressed. She reset it anyway, took a ragged breath, and spoke to the figure in the lab below. "Em, we got it. One hundred percent capture and saturation per the P.C.I."

"For sure?" came the reply from the woman below.

"One hundred percent," Hailey confirmed, still catching her breath.

In the lab, 25-year-old Emily Stevens--soon-to-be doctor and sexologist prodigy--lay strapped to the "Throne," a custom-built contraption blending a gynecological chair with a dental exam rig. Stirrups held her legs apart, lights and cameras focused on her, and a special mesh cushion with an attached vacuum sat beneath her, designed to collect fluids. Her eyes were closed, a tear streaking down her cheek as emotion overwhelmed her. At the same moment, a torrent of thick, pungent semen streamed from her gaping vagina, pooling beneath her.

Across the room, four massive, nude Black men bantered as they wiped down their impressive cocks with towels. "Emma, we're hitting the showers. Damn good time, baby," said Jamar Steele, a 6'6" linebacker, his voice echoed by similar sentiments from the others. They swaggered out the back door into the night, leaving the lab quiet except for the hum of machinery.

Emily managed a stammered, "Thank you," as the vacuum beneath her whirred to life, slurping the flood of fluids from her battered pussy into collection vials. An audible chime signaled the vials were full--two large cups, nearly 12 ounces. It seemed impossible: so much semen from the men, mixed with her own squirt. Hours of relentless fucking--well, science--had produced it.

Tonight marked the culmination of two years of work. Through the capture and identification of a pheromone compound, Emily had proven what everyone already seemed to know: "Once you go Black, you never go back." For now, they called it "the whiff," a placeholder until a proper name could be decided. The drive for this research stemmed from personal and family revelations that still gnawed at her, even in this moment of triumph.

But science and reflection could wait. Now, it was time to test her assistant. "Hailey, go ahead and come down here," Emily called.

Flushed, Hailey clicked her mic. "For sure. I'll give you a few minutes to get dressed."

"No need," Emily replied. "I need your assistance. There's a problem with the fluid collection on the Throne."

"Yes, ma'am," Hailey responded meekly, staring at the floor as she stepped into the lab.

Emily smirked, feeling pressure build again in her pussy--air and cum begging to be expelled. So much had been pumped into her, first her vagina, then her ass, over the course of the night. She squeezed her kegels, surprised at their weakness; her stretched cunt walls couldn't fully close, and her rectum ached, brimming with sperm. Yet she held it in as Hailey entered.

Hailey Vaughn, a conservatively raised Mormon from Utah, had come to Duke on a full academic scholarship, destined for a career in medicine or science. Now, she stood facing a scene she could scarcely process: Emily's legs splayed obscenely on the Throne, her vulva swollen and red, her clit prominent, and both her vaginal opening and anus slightly agape. A glossy mix of white cum coated her genitals and thighs. Her cervix, raw and aching, had been penetrated and filled.

Avoiding eye contact, Hailey spoke with her back turned. "I can try rebooting the chair's computer."

"Won't work," Emily said. "The vials are full."

Hailey's mind reeled at the volume. "Well, we have plenty of samples, apparently."

"Nope," Emily cut in. "I want all of it. This is a landmark achievement. Use manual collection."

Hailey gripped the desk, realizing Emily expected her to scoop the semen up close and personal. "Per protocol, no instruments--just gloves," Emily added, barely hiding her mischievous glee.

"Okay," Hailey murmured. "Also per protocol, do you want me to get the Plan B regimen?"

Emily smiled, caressing her erect nipples. "I don't think so. I'm going to roll with it."

Hailey's stomach dropped. Emily was ovulating, boosted by a fertility cocktail to enhance the experiment's pheromones. She'd just had unprotected sex with four men for three hours, likely ejaculating dozens of times. Her womb was awash with seed.

"Emily, seriously, you're going to--"

"Enough," Emily snapped. "We'll lose the sample. Scrub and glove up."

Minutes later, Hailey perched on a stool, gloved, holding a small collection cup. She stared into the steamy, pungent opening of Emily's ruined cunt, wide enough to reveal a pool of white fluid at her swollen cervix. The room spun as Hailey inhaled the scent; she felt faint, a rush building inside her.

Then it hit--an involuntary orgasm. Fluid gushed from her own pussy, soaking her pants. As she grasped the chair for support, Emily seized the moment, grabbing Hailey's head and pressing it into her sopping maw. Hailey didn't resist. Moaning into the hole, her lips sealed against it, she braced as Emily let loose a loud queef, flooding her mouth with the cum she'd held back. The runny mix splashed into Hailey's throat, coating her tonsils. A gag, then a contented moan and swallow, confirmed it was done. Their eyes locked.

"Emily, I'm sorry," Hailey whispered. "I don't know what's happened."

Emily took her hand, her tone almost motherly. "Shh, it's okay, baby. I do. You left your mic on during the test, by the way. We all got off hearing your sweet little moans."

Hailey blushed. "My God, I have no idea why I lost control today."

A mischievous grin spread across Emily's face. "I had a reverse feed pump the air from the Throne to your station. Hailey, you got 'the whiff.'"

Indeed, the pheromone they'd been chasing had wafted to Hailey. Her sensitive nose--something she'd once mentioned in passing--had inspired Emily to secretly monitor her reaction. Video later confirmed it: Hailey, overwhelmed by the smells of interracial sex, had masturbated furiously while Emily was railed by Black cock and cum.

"Jesus, Emily, you're sadistic," Hailey said, smiling as she slipped two fingers into the soggy snatch before her. "Okay, let me get that Plan B."

"No," Emily snapped, her tone stern. "I meant it. I hope I'm pregnant. If this breakthrough is what I think, it'd only be fitting. I want a Black baby."

Another gush soaked Hailey's pants. "Well, I'll do my best to clean the rest," she said, burying her face back into Emily's crotch, this time suckling lewdly at her stretched asshole. Emily responded with a slimy fart, a gob of jism sliding from her rectum down Hailey's throat.

As the delirious, sex-crazed girl kissed and licked Emily's abused holes, Emily drifted back to that summer day when her descent into Black cock depravity began--and the family secrets that unraveled after. That story would come in Part 2.

Upcoming Chapters:

• Chapter 2: Naive college freshman Emily is exposed to BBC by her best friend and a group of Black athletes on a dark tour bus.

• Chapter 3: A surprise visit home reveals Emily's churchgoing, strict mom with a big Black secret.

• Chapter 4: Emily's sensitive boyfriend hides something dark.

• Chapter 5: Emily embraces the chaos and turns it into science.