All characters engaged in sexual activity are aged eighteen years or more. Earlier chapters will have fewer erotic scenes than later chapters, but if you like futanari and futa/female, and related interests, stick around. In this chapter: futanari, dickgirl, masturbation, and almost-paizuri.
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Amanda opened her eyes. It was harder than it sounds.
"Welcome back," said a voice. Amanda could see that it was someone in a white coat. Looked like a doctor's coat.
"Your voice will take a little time coming back," said the voice again. Female. Adult. The details trickled into Amanda's mind, which was slowly gathering speed from what seemed like a dead stop. "Can you please nod if you hear me?"
Amanda nodded. Her muscles were a little stiff.
"Good. Clearly?"
She nodded again.
"Wonderful. While you finish waking up, I'll fill you in. I am Doctor Westen. I have been your primary caretaker since your major surgeries ended. Do you remember what happened?"
Amanda nodded. She lifted her arms, which came a little easier to her, and made a fist, running it into her other palm. The doctor seemed pleased.
"Good. Now, I'll check things like your vision and reactions. Are you up for that?"
Amanda nodded again, and sat back as Doctor Westen shined lights in her eyes and poked her gently in various spots.
It had been a windy day. Amanda was riding her bike back home from class, eager to tell her girlfriend some new thoughts for her thesis. A tree branch fell onto the windshield of a car just as it rounded the bend. The driver was under the speed limit, even wearing his seat belt, but didn't see Amanda along the side of the road soon enough to avoid hitting her.
And her helmet had saved her life, she knew. The impact split the damn thing right off her head, she remembered that. And one of her last thoughts was that she was going to die, with a massive migraine, before she could tell Tori...
"Hmm?" she said in a coarse whisper.
"I said everything's checking out. You seem perfectly healthy. That is the best news right there. I anticipate no complications, so getting back to your life won't be made more difficult by that. How are you feeling?"
Amanda made a face, then gave a thumbs-sideways, edging upwards to a thumbs-up. She then pointed to her throat.
"Oh, yes!" said the doctor. "Here, let me get you some water."
A minute later, Amanda had drunk about half the glass. At first she tried to gulp it down, but the doctor advised small sips.
"Thank you," she was finally able to say.
"You're quite welcome," said Doctor Westen. "So, now that this is a two-way street, how do you want to go: I tell you, or you ask me?"
"You tell me, please." Amanda's head was still spinning a little. She didn't feel she could come up with a question.
"Very well," said Westen, pulling up a chair and sitting in it.
Westen spent the next ten minutes telling Amanda everything that happened after the accident. The driver was not seriously hurt and called for an ambulance right away. He couldn't reach Amanda, and so couldn't stop any bleeding or even check her vitals. No charges or fault found, but he still sent flowers when Amanda went into recovery. Amanda made a note to send him a letter telling him that everything was all right.
Her body had been impacted by the branch, the car, the guard rail, and more than a few rocks in the drainage gully on the side of the road. The branch and the twisted remains of her bike covered her- it took a few minutes to get her out. As the police said when they investigated the incident, it wasn't so much the speed that mangled everything, but the angles and numbers of impacts.
As a result, Doctor Westen had quite the litany of injuries to list. Various broken bones in the feet and legs, cracked pelvic bone, several ruptured organs, cracked ribs, collapsed lung, lacerations all over both arms, spinal torsion, and a cracked skull with mild brain swelling. The worst damage, the doctor explained hesitantly, had been done to Amanda's pelvic area, having directly struck a handlebar as she was flung across her bike.
"I'm confused," said Amanda. "I should be dead!"
"Believe me, we know!" said the doctor. "You were declared dead not once, but several times in the OR. But you just kept fighting. I was I had been there. That's why we decided that, despite your prognosis, we would open the VEEP to you."
The Volunteer Emergency Experiment Program. Amanda had never been happier to have signed up. Thanks to the VEEP act of 2037, when a person came of age, they could sign up for the program, and should no other medical treatment be deemed viable, be offered to be subject to an experimental treatment, dangerous ones even by medicine's standards. The doctors are absolved of all liability in such cases, but all credit goes to the makers of the treatment as well. The "quality of life" protesters could stuff themselves as far as Amanda was concerned. Besides, medicine had been advanced more in the ten or so years since the VEEP Act, than in the half-century before it.
"I take it Tori knows what happened?"
"We told her how serious your injuries were, but also how hard you were fighting. I wish you could have seen her. So scared but also so proud of you."
"Stop, you'll make me cry," said Amanda, but she smiled anyway as the tears piled up, then spilled down her face.
"Sorry. But she chose your VEEP treatment, and in my professional opinion, I don't think the others had a chance of working."
"Good for her. So what was it?"
The doctor flipped to a new page, and Amanda recognized the official seal at the top. It was for the VEEP Commission, which oversaw the program to ensure it was not being abused on any one side. That must be the official description of the treatment; treatment makers were not allowed to write it themselves, for their unavoidable bias.
"The Serum, developed by Phallovar International," read Doctor Westen. "The Serum has four primary parts. The first part has its base in injection-oriented genetic therapy. This places the Serum into the body's own manufacturing base, which creates as much further Serum as is needed, until the treatment concludes.
"The second part is based around the male hormone, testosterone, and it finds anything in the body that needs rebuilding, and, using the patient's surrounding tissue and DNA as a blueprint, makes a brand-new part or parts. This part is intended for amputations and other replacements.
"The third part is based around the female hormone, estrogen, as both are involved in the gestation and development of both sexes. This part of the Serum renews and repairs existing parts and systems of the body. Once the second part creates a new foot, for example, the third part will optimize it and integrate it into the body, along with everything else.
"The fourth part includes the rest of the Serum, that is to say all proprietary ingredients, and all additives to the Serum to help the first three parts do their jobs."
Doctor Westen looked up. Amanda's mouth was a perfect O.
"Holy crap!" Amanda said at last.
"You can say that again," the doctor said. Amanda did.
"So... how well did it work?"
"Well," said the doctor, flipping to another couple of pages. "It took some time. Since we're now up to your current condition, I should start by telling you that you have been in a coma for nearly three and a half months. It's August twenty-first, about three in the afternoon. You were sleeping for the last twelve hours, and we finally felt safe in waking you up just now."
"Three months... God, how much did I miss?"
"Your friends, especially your Miss Campbell, dropped off a lot of newspapers and letters at your apartment, I'm told. I didn't come in until the Serum had taken hold, and you were out of the OR."
"My school. Did anyone say about my school?"
"Yes. Your school understands your condition, and will take the remainder of the semester you paid for and did not attend, and credit it to your next semester. Should you apply for the Spring or earlier, your continuance in their Biochemistry program is assured."
"Oh, good." Amanda sat back. Her life could have been wrecked, but now it was looking up. Three months gone, but on the other hand, she could have been dead. And she felt great.
"I got to tell you, doc. That Serum did a great job. I feel a little stiff from laying here for three months, but other than that, not a twinge."
"Good. May I outline the effects of the Serum we have noticed so far?"
"Okay."
"Firstly and most obviously, you are now in perfect health. And I mean perfect. Things can still hurt you, like papercuts and getting a cold and breaking bones and all those delightful parts of life, but your body now completely recovers from them all. Completely. You're the first human trial of the Serum, see, at least, this incarnation of it. And apparently its first side effect is that it doesn't leave your system when it's done."
"Say what?"
"I told you it integrates into your body's manufacturing systems, in your bone marrow, using gene therapy. Well, once it gone into your DNA... it stayed there. In seven years, when your entire body has renewed itself, cell by cell, you will have none of your pre-Serum DNA remaining. Possibly sooner. And the more of your body is Serum-oriented, the better your health will presumably be."
"My DNA... has been altered. Again, I say holy crap."
"You seem to be taking this well. Some would call it one massive violation."
"I could be dead instead. I'm looking at the bright side of life."
"That's a healthy view. So... yes. It seems the Serum will be with you the rest of your life. Also, some accidental byproduct has made you unable to grow hair over most of your body."
Amanda's hands flew up. Doctor Westen laughed.
"I said, 'most,' dearie. Your eyebrows and scalp are still fine. And your fingernails and toenails, which grow the same way. It's just that something about the rest of your skin has changed enough to prohibit hair growth. They were vacuuming your sheets after changing them, for a month, as the wispy hairs across your body all fell out."
"Wow... that's... low maintenance!"
The doctor laughed out loud. "Wow indeed. I wish I had more patients like you. But, as you'll be out of here before too much longer, it looks like I'm about to have one less."
"I want to say sorry, doc, but I can't."
