Day 0
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A white square box sat before Elena on the room desk. Screen modules clicked alive, gently glowing. After triple-checking the basic reproduction numbers for the synthetic mRNA, the risk was...acceptable. Five years ago, Elena couldn't even believe herself when Blyzz hand delivered their grant offer.
"For top marks for this year's class in molecular biology engineering, it's a long-term investment," the Director smiled smoking real tobacco, a true luxury from the old days. The night filled with big words like "carte blanche," "enhancement future," and "genius-tier" mingled with more booze.
Now after all the high expectations, blown budgets, and clinical trial delays, it had arrived.
Elena snapped on some lab gloves. She slid the lid off. A pair of white silk hand gloves. As she held up one glove, its simple white fiber gave a willowing sheen, almost as if it were moving in the light. But any real scientist worth their chops had to know for sure if it worked, and she scribbled another note to her journal.
"I am wearing only a plain white top shirt. Brand is Samawall!" Calculations suggested a few hours of exposure should be fine.
Elena stepped away from the desk to strip down to just her top. At 5'5", her long dark hair with natural curls framed B-sized cups, but her best assets were curvy hips and butt. The apartment turbine heating wasn't on, but it still felt warm. As she threw out her lab gloves, Elena took deep breathes, then aloud declared, "In the name of science." Alone, stepping on a new frontier, a timid hand reached out.
Touching the gloves felt luxurious, normal! There was a sigh of relief and a smile. It felt silly to waste all that time and money searching the Compounds for real silk, but this milestone called for such a special occasion.
The clock starts upon contact.
Maybe it was her eyes playing tricks, but it almost seemed like the gloves jumped onto her hands.
A perfect fit. Elena tried calculating an exposure curve when she started chewing her lower lip, skin getting flushed. In a trance, she felt a hand under her fitted top toying with both taunt, hard nipples.
When did I last have quality time with myself? Mm, I'm burning up...
Spreading her juicy vulva folds, the silk fingers felt like someone else. Like a real cock, slipping and sliding in and out. Elena lost count of how many times she came because after the first orgasm, she blacked out.
Day 1
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Elena opened her eyes, blinked, while laying in bed.
Shit, I left them on, didn't I?
In a panic, she whipped the gloves off back into the box. Still flushed, her throat and pussy were sore. Retracing her steps, she opened her journal to read any notes she might've left.
"I am wearing only a plain white top shirt. Brand is Samawall! Also, a black vintage stretch choker and sheer pony fishnet thong, no brands." Nothing else. Elena felt a surge of confusion and curiosity on why she chose such slutty underwear...She closed her eyes, ashamed using such a word to describe herself.
I am a professional micro-bio eng working in the largest pharmaceutical conglomerate!
So who was that in the mirror? The chic choker accentuated her neck length. Cupping her new breasts, her chest was huge. The snug fishnet thong (
it's a G-String, face it girl
) barely covered her pussy. Just walking around she twitched every time the silk fabric rubbed against her swollen clit. This was unproductive.
Writing, "Woke up very aroused." Writing, "aroused," she felt more blood rushing to her chest.
Think, think.
"Breasts are enlarged (C+ cup now?) due to hormonal response, noticeable changes to epidermis hydration." Gulping down her desk water jug, Elena stuck her left wrist in a Medi-grade scanner. "Normal vitals. Found massive discharge of ejaculate/cervical fluid in sleeping area, monitor closely." It felt silly and naughty documenting her orgasms and squirting. Nothing to be ashamed of, it's just Elena never squirted during climax before.
An interesting side effect
. She kept the choker and the thong on beneath her Blyzz uniform biosuit as fun souvenirs.
The forensics report later would indicate overnight viral exposures led to Patient Zero's rapid descent. Early-stage morphing of tonsil glands into hyper-erogenous tissue. Loss of cervical fluid control to keep the host in constant arousal. Override libido to control the host's other Maslow needs. The memory displacements would suggest gradual changes to turn Elena into a living semen vampire.
She couldn't feel her choker releasing dopamine when she thought of taking someone home. All Elena could focus on was getting back home to try the gloves on again.
Day 2
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It was a wild wet dream, like one of those old "big black cock" porn scenes. Elena was in an aircar, some man grabbed her hair, forcing her down his metal rod. As he began skull fucking her mouth, it felt strange. Almost like his dick was shocking her clit every time it hit the back of her throat.
As he yelped, Elena braced for the massive explosion. Salty but sweet, warm semen flooded her mouth and throat. Swallowing as fast as she could, Elena's nostrils burned as semen oozed out of her nose and lip corners. She opened her eyes, only to gaze at a faceless head.
Elena woke up hazy, back in her room. She turned to yesterday's notebook scrawls. The only thing legible was "Orgasms = Blackouts???" They were happening more frequently. She looked down, and her gloves were still on. "Fuck."
How long?
And they...changed? Long length black silk gloves up to her elbows.
Moving bedside to take off the prototype, she let out a surprised moan. Something was inside her. Click! Click! heavy heels. Eyes widening, Elena stared down at black open toe pumps towering over six-inch stiletto heels on both feet, her long legs encased in silk black stockings and matching embroidered garter belt clips. Elena's glowing tits were crushed inside a black strappy demi bra.
She crossed her legs, exposing Christian Louboutin red bottoms, a vintage throwback design!
I slept in these?
Fugue daydreams of shopping at lingerie and sex toy boutiques came to her. Funny, she had forgotten what she bought at all.
Wincing, Elena reached down between her ass cheeks and felt the flat, flared base of a glass anal plug.
When did I ever wear ass plugs?
Her choker ringed its Pavlov's bell, flooding her with more dopamine. Elena's mind flashed a fake memory when she found Mother's anal plug. It was made with the same slender borosilicate glass, she kept it for a while, making sure Mother didn't notice it missing. On boring nights, she'd train herself how to orgasm from anal. The enemas were fun.
Elena closed her eyes, heart pounding.
This is too much! I'm late for work!
She bent over, racked with hot shudders thinking about going to the lab dressed like this.
Then her mind recalled a pleasure club bathroom stall. The grimy beige walls were covered in penises and gang graffiti. She was sitting on the toilet, no,
reverse cowgirl riding someone's dick
. Dark eyes alit as Elena worked away running her tongue ring up and down the bottom of multiple cocks waiting to double-team her-