Preface:
There is one thing that most people don't understand about how evolution works. They think that each new iteration is better in every way, that evolution works to perfect us. This misconception makes my abilities seem outlandish. My sperm suddenly gaining the ability to go dormant because of a few extra gene sequences seems ridiculous, right? The thing is, evolution also takes things away. Sometimes it's because it's a waste of resources, and we have to eat enough to survive. Other times, we lose something that's beneficial to us only in certain circumstances. If we had kept our ability to manufacture more of the essential amino acids, malnutrition would have been far less of an issue for the species. Most of the time, we don't actually lose the genetic code to do something, the code simply becomes dormant. Most of my changes are the result of activating genes that remain dormant in everyone else. If I had gained the ability to do something that wasn't already present in nature, I would have really been worried.
That being said, I really have no need to be believed. Just take this as an interesting story. I've worked hard to make sure that I'm not truly discovered, and over the last several years I've made quite a life for myself. I've had some interesting experiences. Some are erotic, but there have been plenty of others that were not at all pleasant. I won't blame you if you believe my story, but you don't need to try to find out about the real me. It will just be a waste of time, all for something entirely unlikely. Having a lot of in-depth knowledge and placing it in this story doesn't mean this is real, Ph.Ds like erotica too, after all. If nothing else though, I hope you gain a little extra knowledge in an amusing way with my writing. Everything scientific that I have written (or will write) about normal people, women and men, is absolutely real and easy to verify.
Log 01 - Big Man on Campus
With each passing day, my outlook on life was improving. As time passed, my fears of some unknown negative consequence from the accident lessened. Each day literally reduced the likelihood of imminent harm. I was left with my new abilities, which were rapidly changing my life for the better. It was becoming more and more apparent that I had won the "genetic lottery" with this accident. The odds were really against me, even though the samples had been successful in a lot of testing.
While the bulk of my changes were sexual, there were a few other changes that had been entirely unexpected. I had more energy than I had in years, in many ways I felt like I was in my twenties again. I looked the same, of course, but I no longer felt like the 35 year old man that I was. While the new gene sequences were limited, they were changing the expression of several others. All seven of my sirtuin genes seemed to be affected, for example, along with several others. Based on my bloodwork-kept off the record, of course-my organ function numbers were all in the normal range for someone in their early twenties. To this day I don't completely understand it. Regardless, my new vitality has been no small boon.
My changes weren't all positive, though this story focuses mostly on the good things in that department. As I mentioned before, I have the bladder capacity of a menopausal woman with five kids. I used to be stoic, but now find myself far more emotional. I tend to be irritable, and my temper is far more difficult to control. My appetite has increased significantly to keep up with my new caloric demands. While eating more can be nice, it can also be pretty inconvenient. Likewise, a healthy sex drive is fine, but mine bordered on obsessive.
Most of my hobbies fell to the wayside as they were replaced by sex-related activities. With my increased stamina, the only thing that seemed to sate me for any length of time was knocking up someone new. For obvious reasons it wasn't the best hobby, I was flirting with discovery each time, particularly because I hadn't perfected my methods yet. It was a hell of a lot of fun though, and immensely satisfying. After all, if you spend a few weeks making a cabinet, you only have a cabinet. I was creating children, and each one tickled that instinctual urge to procreate. People, in general, want to spread their genes.
Early on I realized that it could be dangerous for me if people realized what was going on. At the beginning, I was just protecting my career; later I considered what may happen to me if I was caught by the wrong people. Fortunately, I had been cautious from day one, and the only person who knew the full scope of what happened was Alice. Three other people knew there had been an accident, but they all thought it was just the loss of the samples. They had no reason to suspect that the accident actually caused an injury, or that I was injected with those samples. With Alice being completely devoted to me, I had little to fear from any direct inquiries.
In fact, everyone I interacted with at work thought highly of me. My pheromones made people like me, even if I didn't use them to influence them. Everyone I met walked away with the feeling that they had just met a great person. Every class I was scheduled to teach in the upcoming fall term was full, and I was starting to gain minor celebrity status in my department. This didn't come without certain consequences, however. People started coming to me with requests, they wanted help with a problem or wanted me as a coauthor. I had been freed from most of my work to focus on myself, the last thing I wanted was more distractions.
Aside from taking away my time to study what I wanted, it also threatened my new hobby. I seemed to be having a lot of success influencing the new mothers up to that point, and didn't fear any repercussions from them directly. They would keep quiet, and they wouldn't believe any pregnancies in the future were spontaneous. I didn't have to worry about one of them claiming to be the new Mother Mary. As for anyone else, they'd naturally assume there was a father. If someone came and told you they got pregnant without having sex, I doubt you'd think there was someone like me running around; you'd just assume it was a one-night stand or something.
While I was causing plenty of new pregnancies in the area, we're talking about a university and a university town. If I was really busy, I might prompt some extra contraception presentations in a few years. Similarly, I wasn't too concerned about men finding out that 'their' child wasn't really theirs. The false paternity rate-the rate at which a man believes he is the father of a child but isn't-is already higher than most people think. Paternity testing is still rare, and usually the result of suspicion. In cases where the father and child are tested in relation to a genetic conditions, where suspicion doesn't influence the results, the rate is between 5 and 10 percent.
In fact, in most cases the labs that discover false paternity don't reveal it to the father. In North America, the law generally requires the results be kept confidential from anyone but the mother. Unsurprisingly, I have it on good authority that most of these mothers aren't very surprised when they find out. As for the "fathers," the human mind instinctively finds resemblance to babies and children. "Oh, he has my uncle's ears," or "He loves trains, just like me," is surprisingly placating to men who find themselves the fathers of children that aren't actually theirs. And when a man has one child with a woman that is legitimately his, he is far less likely to doubt another child that isn't.
Even though I didn't have much cause to fear discovery from impregnating women, I limited my "hobby" during this time to no more than twice per week. Even though a momentary encounter with me leaves a positive impression, it doesn't keep people from potentially connecting the dots if they spot me picking up women, and later learn that those women are pregnant. Though my pheromones give me a powerful influence over people in the right circumstances, they are far less effective in crowds. Normally the brain automatically associates the detection of pheromones to the person that just showed up. In a crowd, or an area where people are pressed together, the brain never makes that connection.
Similarly, my arousal pheromones might cause the women near me in a crowd to become aroused, but they wouldn't interpret that arousal as attraction to ME. Their partners might be thankful later on, but I didn't care for the lack of control. As I began to sate my need to procreate in local taverns, I channeled Dexter from the Showtime show of the same name that had just gathered a lot of popularity. I wasn't killing people, but I didn't want want to be discovered. I avoided going to the same bar, changed up the night/s that I went out, paid in cash, and did some other things to avoid being noticed in a pattern.
While my new hobby was immensely satisfying, perhaps even more so because the precaution, it wasn't the ideal method for tests. I collected personal information whenever possible, so that I could locate the members of my breeding harem in the future. I wanted to know the results of my exploits, both for data and for my own satisfaction. Later on, it would prove useful at providing aid to the women of my harem that needed it, but right now it served little purpose.
