The following is an experiment. I haven't been writing a lot and my therapist has encouraged that I get back at it. For anyone wondering where I've gone, after the hospital I have only really been on Discord.
Anyway, there is not going to be any rhyme or reason to this. No editing, no second draft: going commando here! Expect there to be lots of BE, FMG, GTS, Futa and other sexual growth going on, but there might be whole chapters where I complain about how badly they are adapting a favorite book series.
Your guess is as good as mine as to what happens next.
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Ai never wanted to go to therapy.
"I'm sure this is a perfectly reputable procedure," Irene said, her Scottish accent making what she said sound both like an optimistic encouragement and thickly veiled sarcasm. "I mean, they wouldn't advertise it unless it was reputable, right?"
Ai tried not to let the grimace on her inside show on her outside. Irene, still dressed in her judo outfit from her class earlier and towering over Ai by about eight inches, looked like she would break a man's arm in three places and then bake him cookies as an apology. Brown curly hair to her shoulders that was getting frizzy in the early morning mist, she pushed up her glasses before pushing Ai towards the large concrete building before them.
"Get in there! I'll pick you up in a few hours."
Ai didn't say anything, but Ai rarely did and Irene knew that. Fixing her neon green scrunchie and her peach skirt, the small woman psyched herself up.
You can do this!,
she thought, flexing her hands to feel the veins along her arms pump up under the sweater. The frumpy red Christmas sweater that didn't match her skirt was a smoke screen: Ai loved to work out. Even over forty years old, Ai was more likely to bench press a stranger as talk to them, which is to say she was capable of both but unlikely to do either. Not that she liked to talk, or make eye contact, or...
Ai huffed, ignoring her stupid thoughts. She was delaying. Biting her lip, Ai stepped forward and walked into the building that looked more like a military ammo depot and less like a place of cutting edge techno-therapy.
"Hello, and welcome to Mental Conception!" The only part of the receptionist Ai could make out behind the tall metal and stone desk were her green eyes, wildly curly red hair and a bubbly personality.
Ai choked back a growl, hating being short, and went over as quickly as she could, the lip of the desk level with her nose. "Ai Love, I have an appointment."
The receptionist must have had great hearing, because even with the muttered monotone Ai gave, she quickly clack-clack-clacked on her keyboard and replied with more cheerful than a person should reasonably have. "Ai, you are just in time! Dr. Galore has the Machine all warmed up and ready for you right now!"
It took a few minutes, but Ai eventually got out of the girl - who's name was Britney! (of course it was) and she was loving Ai's hair (who loves messy ponytail scrunchy?) - directions to some elevators, went down to level B12, walked through what felt like a mile of creepy empty hallway and ended up in front of a massive steel door that would make bank vaults feel insecure.
Standing there, hearing something that sounded like the
Its Alive!
scene from Frankenstein crackling behind the doors despite their thickness, Ai paused and regretted every decision she had ever made, ever.
"This is a mistake," Ai mumbled, pulling out her phone and playing a few rounds of Solitaire to calm her nerves. She might have felt silly, standing there for ten minutes in front of a vault door while mad science happened behind it, but no one was there to see here so her anxieties were much smaller. Eventually, though, she put her phone away and pushed the little call button on the side underneath the nametag reading Dr. Deloris Galore.
"Yes?" came the staticky reply, though it had an unidentifiable European accent that made it sound more like a
Ves
than an affirmative.
Ai pushed the button again and held it down. "Ai Love, here for my appointment."
Ai didn't get a reply, and after another few minutes of no reply Ai pushed the button again and repeated herself but nothing happened. Wondering what to do, Ai was slowly walking towards the elevators when warning lights flashed, a loud claxxon sounded and with the hissing of sealed gasses, the vault slowly swung open. Squeeking a bit and flattening herself against hallway, Ai was not ashamed to admit that she thought some kind of monster had escaped and she was about to be eaten, but all that came out was an older woman in her sixties, gray hair in a severe bun and wearing a lab coat stained in various blue and green colored slimes, which Ai didn't know what to make of. Her face had the distracted look of someone so far into an ADHD focus/distraction look, she appeared surprised when she caught sight of Ai and appeared as if she had to think about what to say for a moment.
"Oh, good, you're still here," the older woman said, smoothing her lab coat but only managing to get the goop on there smeared further on the white surface. "Not going to lie, most of the volunteers have run screaming at this point." Her English was perfect, but her accent was thick enough it was clear this was her second language. A slavikese, Ai thought.
Also, while Ai dwelt on all that was happening and calming herself down, she realized she had made no reply nor moved away from the wall. Once she realized that, she eased away from the wall but continued to say nothing because now she didn't know what to say.
"Well, won't be doing any science in the hallway, so you better come in," the old woman said energetically, motioning impatiently for Ai to go through the vault and into the other room. "I'm Dr. Galore, so no need to worry."
Ai fixed her skirt, her hair, then shuffled her way to the aperture and looked inside. The room - which should rather be classified as a large open space filled mostly with wires and electrical equipment - all centered around a large white tube that had a lot in common with an MRI machine if it were designed by H. R. Giger. Nodes and holes and fixtures Ai had no reasonable comparison to jutted out and around the entire thing until the chaos of it all gave the impression of the more hardcore side of science fiction.
"I know it looks frightening, but as we discussed on the phone, it is all perfectly safe." Dr. Galore quickly stepped forward and moved with the stride of a woman preparing to fire the Death Star when ready. "I just finished a session myself, all kinds of good! However, I am a bit rushed so if you'll just strip, I'll get you all connected and we can get this party started."
"Strip?" Ai asked, yelping suddenly as the vault door boomed close behind her and locked with a sucking sound to indicate the level of seal that door provided. "I didn't...I don't..."
"Pish posh! I'm you're doctor and the Machine works better with more skin contact." She was fiddling with a dial and something that sounded like a turbine started up behind the back wall. "Don't even have any cameras in here as everyone needs to get naked."
Ai shivered, the room suddenly feeling very cold. And under the expecting gaze of the doctor, Ai turned around with a blush red enough to power the machine and slowly took her clothing off. It took a few minutes, but eventually Ai stood naked in the room, her arms creating a comical modesty as she was unsure where to go or what to do.
"Girl, what do you eat for breakfast? Other weightlifters?"
Ai blushed, but this time it was not entirely from embarrassment, parts of her getting a rush of heat. While short of stature, Ai spent a lot of her week in a gym and she did indeed look it. Not shredded like people expect to see, that kind of appearance actually unhealthy and Ai built her body for herself, not a competition. but there was no hiding the bumps, cuts and mass she had all over her body, a double dose in her thighs making skirts the only practical form of legwear available to her.
The only
