Most of the stories around here start off with a certain disclaimer, about how the characters are fictional. "Any resemblance to persons real or fictional", you know how it goes. I can't do that here. What I can do is state that all the people in this story have had their names changed, along with all the locations. This story is mostly true, it would be far too dull to read if I left it at the whole truth. I've glossed over boring parts, sped some events up, added some embellishment, and left out a lot I thought was too embarrassing to include even in an anonymous story. Of course, this is all based on my memories, so it's likely I've forgotten or misremembered things. I doubt it will affect the story.
You may be wondering, 'if this is a serious story, or even partially true, why post it in a place like this?' The answer is simple. Nobody will take it seriously. I don't want to be discovered or exposed. I keep my secrets, but I can safely vent here. So what is this? I'd call it a memoir, but you probably won't see it that way. I want to express in words what I've experienced, and what I've become. It doesn't really matter if you believe me, that isn't really the point. If you enjoy this work, it has served both our purposes.
This is only the beginning of my story, it's been years since the events that happened here. Because it's the first, there's a good amount of information that explains the background and setting. My career, the accident, the changes to my body, and eventually to my life. Later releases won't have to include all this, and can focus more on the story rather than setting it up. While I'd certainly like you to read the whole thing, I understand if you're anxious to skip to the more erotic portion. I've broken things down into subchapters--I've called them "logs"--to divide the story somewhat. Most of the action is in log 04, and will probably be a bit strange, but is readable by itself. The overall story won't make sense though, of course.
Log 01 - The Background
In my past life, I was a molecular geneticist at my state university. I had recently been tenured, after years spent on the tenure track. I was focusing more on research, and had a lab mostly to myself. The wounds from my divorce were healing, and I was finally starting to enjoy being single again. We had never had children, though I had wanted to, so there was little to keep me from enjoying bachelorhood. I wasn't a handsome ladies' man, but I did okay for someone in their 30s. I had kept myself in shape, particularly after the divorce. Regular cardio, and some basic calisthenics kept me relatively lean without appearing scrawny. I had a good life, but for the most part I don't regret leaving it behind.
It may be useful to explain the basics of my work, and the time I was doing it. I was researching genetic modification of living organisms, commonly called gene therapy. I won't bore you, if you want to know more you can always visit Wikipedia. You take a virus, and use it to alter the genes in target cells. The idea is usually to fix some genetic defect, curing a disease or reducing the severity of a disability. Back then, the possibilities seemed endless. Gene sequencing was finally fast and cost effective enough to make real progress possible. There were even a couple limited human trials.
My story takes place before the death of one clinical trial subject brought it all to a screeching halt. It wasn't a trial I had anything to do with, it happened some time after this story. You see, in complicated machines like human beings, one small change can have unintended consequences. Many years after the start of this story the field has recovered; there is astounding progress in human trials. There's even new technology called CRISPR that has revolutionized the field. In my case though, I was working when the field was still flush with grant money in the old paradigm.
I wasn't working on a specific gene or vector, that takes too long. You have many kettles on the stove at once in my field. You create new gene sequences, then you have to duplicate them, there's preparing the virus you're using for insertion, and tests on cell cultures, living subjects (usually mice), and finally tests on human cell cultures. So there's usually a lot of different things going on. You try several variations on one sequence, and take the one that works best, make more changes, rinse and repeat as you work your way towards something promising to test on mice or expensive cell cultures and primates.
A major focus of my work was reproduction. It's why my memoir is on this sort of website instead of a general fiction website. As for why I was working on reproduction, well, the answer is simple: money. A wealthy individual or nonprofit donates money in the form of grants toward a certain field or topic. When it comes to genetics, it's usually someone with a condition or disorder hoping to fund research that will help cure it. Where money is concerned, reproduction is pretty big. Just look at trend in pharmaceutical funding for more drugs like Viagra. That's where I was, happily plugging along, testing different variations to see what effects they may have, potentially finding one that may treat one of any number of conditions.
A funny thing about the work, is that a lot of what we'd consider failures, actually have pretty amazing effects. Particularly when looking at later-stage sequences. A modification that causes a female mouse to ovulate once a day like a metronome, or a male mouse to produce quantities of spermatozoa so prodigious its testicles had to quadruple in size to produce it, are both failures. While I'm certain there are individuals out there who would love those particular effects, it just doesn't make the cut as a legitimate medical treatment.
