I crave the attention of strangers. I want to be scrutinized and stared at, poked and prodded while my arms and legs are held in place by futuristic bindings. I want to be talked about like an object. People in white coats with clipboards record my reactions to different stimuli as they feed me different drugs, testing things like fertility and sensitivity, stamina and obedience. They treat me like a lab rat and call me an “it” as they fuck me. “It’s pussy’s really wet this time. It’s reacting well to this round of drugs and tests. I wonder how quickly I can make it cum like this.” One of them says as they pound into my pussy as another fills my mouth. Over time, the drugs they give me reverse the effects of my transition. Despite having surgery, I regrow my tits. My facial hair falls out, my body becomes curvier, and I become far more womanly than I had been, even before my transition. My tits get so big I can barely stand up straight, they have to milk me on the daily or I leak all over their sterile lab. Before long, the drugs begin to make things possible that wouldn’t otherwise be. Holes that shouldn’t be fuckable are suddenly stretchy and sensitive. My ears, my nostrils, my nipples. One of the scientists even goes so far as to fuck one of my eyesockets. Whenever they aren’t fucking or actively testing me, they fill each of my holes with dildos. I look absurd in the photos they take home to show their friends and families. It’s embarrassing, and yet every time they show me one of the photos they take I get wetter than ever.
I need to be tied down to a lab table fully awake under blinding lights, leather straps and heavy steel buckles and locks. screaming crying and shaking as someone coos and pets my hair softly. All the while a shiny set of surgical tools sits less then a foot away.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANYONE TO USE MY WRITING FOR ANYTHING OTHER THAN READING. DO NOT PRINT AND BIND MY WORKS, DO NOT REPOST THEM, DO NOT COPY THEM, DO NOT FEED THEM INTO AI, DO NOT SELL THEM, DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.
Damien did their best to ignore their anxiety throughout the day while they waited to go to the lab. As they hobbled down the stairs from their suite, they repeated "I won't panic, I won't panic, I won't panic," over and over in their head like a mantra. Lucien was already in the lab when they arrived, and they stopped just inside to glare at him from the doorway.
"You know…" he greeted as he calibrated the ultrasound machine. "If you hold that face for long enough, it's going to stick that way." He swiveled in his chair and offered Damien a lighthearted smirk. "Or, perhaps it already has."
They deepened the glare. Lucien chuckled and rose from his chair.
"Are you ready?" he gestured to the table.
Damien planted their feet and their crutches firmly on the white tiles.
"Damien…" Lucien sighed. "Please don't do this again. Please don't make me manhandle you."
"I'm not making you do anything. This is all on you."
He grumbled and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to decide how best to deal with his stubborn new pet. If he was going to choose to force this, then he would choose to do it as gently as possible. Quicker than lightning, he disappeared in a black mist and then reappeared behind Damien. He knocked their crutches away, hoisted them up by their midsection, and plonked them down on the metal table.
"Lucien! Hey!"
Damien didn't have time to register what was happening before they were pushed onto their back and four thick leather straps had him held firmly against the metal surface. Lucien stood over them with his arms crossed and an displeased look on his face. When the nature of the situation finally dawned on them, panic began to rise like bile in their throat. I will not panic, they told themself again, choking it down. The straps were tight and dug into their skin. They were definitely going to leave marks.
"Please try to lie still. The straps will cut you if you wiggle too much."
Damien's response came in the form of a grumpy sigh.
"Teleporting is cheating," they mumbled.
"Is it? I'll keep that in mind for next time."
Lucien pulled Damien's hoodie up and the hem of their sweatpants down to give him access to their belly, and then settled himself back in his chair. The lube was warm when he pressed the wand against their abdomen, and they did their best to keep their breathing even and their nerves settled as he studied the monitor closely. After only a minute or so, Lucien smiled and turned the monitor toward Damien.
"You have a very healthy uterus," he said.
He pointed at various locations on the monitor as he moved the wand around, trying to show them what he was seeing. It just looked like blobs to Damien.
"Great. Are we done?"
Lucien shook his head.
"Not quite."
He wheeled his chair over to the counter, pulled something out of a cupboard, and then returned and showed it to Damien. It was a sample cup. Damn. They were hoping he'd forgotten about that.
"I'd send you back to your room with this, but I know for certain that you won't give me what I need willingly, so…"
Don't panic. Their heart began to race. They struggled against the straps, but they were tight, and the unfinished edges cut into their skin.
"Damien, please stop. You're going to hurt yourself."
"I hate you…" they whispered as they stilled.
"I know," Lucien frowned.
"Just… fucking get it over with," they growled and squeezed their eyes shut tight.
"Very well."
He loosened the strap around Damien's thighs just enough to pull their sweats down, revealing their bulge beneath their boxer-briefs, then tightened them again. He stood from his chair and sidled up next to the table, gazing down at his "patient", who was trying so hard to be brave… He cupped their soft bulge in his palm. Damien's body jerked, surprised, and they winced when another strap cut deep.
"Try and relax," he said, his voice quiet.
"Yeah, right," they scoffed.
A nearby mayo stand held all the tools that Lucien thought he would need for this "procedure", and he grabbed a ruler from among them.
"What, we're comparing cocks now?" Damien tried to joke.
Lucien smirked.
"I need measurements before giving you any of my mad scientist concoctions to see if they have an affect on size," he said, offering his own half-joke.
"Of course you do. How silly of me," they sighed.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of their boxer-briefs and pulled them down to free their manhood. His fingers were cold, and Damien shivered as he took the measurements he needed.
"Well?" they asked, brow raised.
"Are you a grower, or a shower," he asked with a sly smile.
Damien rolled their eyes and shook their head.
"I'm not answering that."
"You don't have to," he laughed. "I'm going to find out in a moment."
"At least tell me the measurement."
"Haven't you measured before?" Lucien raised his brow.
"Y'know, somehow doing that is something that never occurred to me."
"In that case, you might be interested to know that you are exactly four inches long and just over one inch in diameter. Congratulations, that's slightly larger than the average cis man."
"Yay me."
He tucked their cock back into their underwear, and before Damien could ask why, he had his palm over their bulge once more. He took his time palming at them, and they cursed their body for betraying them as their cock twitched and began to harden.
"Is it usually this quick?" Lucien asked.
Damien hesitated.
"No…" they mumbled.
He hummed, and they knew he was making a mental note of it. His hand slid downward to massage their lower lips. Their eyes shot open, and they raised their head.
"Not there," they snapped, squeezing their legs shut tightly around his hand.
He glanced at them momentarily, then returned to their bulge. They let out a shaky breath, thankful that he had listened, rested their head back on the table, and tried to relax.
"You don't like being touched there, do you?"
"I don't like you touching me at all," they answered with a sneer.
"You know what I mean."
"No…" Damien replied after a moment of hesitation. "I don't like being touched there."
"That's unfortunate."
He gave Damien's bulge a light squeeze, and they choked back a small groan. Again, they cursed their body's betrayal.
"You're taking your damn sweet time," they noted out loud.
"If I try and rush it, I could overstimulate you too quickly, and you won't be able to climax. It'll be over soon enough."
Only a minute or two later, Damien's cock was hard and throbbing in their underwear. Only when their precum had left a wet spot in the fabric did Lucien finally free it once more. He shimmied their boxer-briefs down just enough to reveal their manhood, then took the ruler in hand once more and quickly acquired his next set of measurements.
"Six inches in length, and just over one and a half inch in diameter. So, you are a bit of a grower."
Damien gave a half-hearted thumbs-up.
Lucien put the ruler away, then stepped away from the table and returned to the counter, where he turned on the sink.
"W-what are you doing?" Damien asked.
"Just warming my hands," he replied as he plunged them beneath the stream of steaming water.
"How thoughtful of you."
He returned with a smile.
"I find your sarcasm endearing."
"And I find you a total pain in the ass."
He chuckled.
"I rest my case."
He wrapped his fingers around Damien's cock without warning, causing their hips to jerk upward.
"Ah! Can you at least loosen these damn straps? I'm not going anywhere."
He considered for a moment, then did as he was asked.
"Better?"
"Marginally," Damien sighed.
"Good."
And then his hand was around their cock again, stroking gently. A thick glob of precum leaked from the tip, and he used his thumb to swirl it around their cockhead, then moved it downward, to that sensitive spot on the underside of the shaft, just beneath the head. They clenched their jaw, squeezed their eyes shut, and focused on keeping their breathing steady, not to stave off panic this time, but to fight against arousal. Lucien's hand left suddenly, they heard the click of a bottle opening, and then his hand was back to slather lube up and down their cock. They mistakenly chanced a glance downward, and their hips bucked again at the sight of Lucien's large hand wrapped around them. Oh, no… they thought as embers ignited in their belly. They didn't actually expect to get any sort of pleasure from this.
Their cock twitched, and released another glob of precum. Lucien gripped harder and picked up the pace, filling the quiet room with the squelching sound of lube on flesh. They clenched hard, and their back tried to arch, straining against the leather straps that held them captive. And then he slowed again, leaving Damien shaking on the table. He kept this pattern, slow and steady, and then quick and brutal, delighted at the effect he was having on them and the adorable little noises they were trying so hard not to make. Damien wasn't having nearly as good of a time. These touches were torture. Each time Lucien increased the pace, pleasure bloomed like a rose, and every muscle clenched at once, leaving them sore and exhausted when he slowed. The smoldering embers in their belly ignited into a roaring flame, and they let out a desperate sob.
"Lucien… please, I… I don't want…"
He stopped, and Damien collapsed back, gasping for air.
"You're close, aren't you? You don't want me to stop now."
"No, I… I mean yes. I'm close, but…"
Their brain was fuzzy, and they couldn't seem to find the words for what they were trying to say.
"I don't want to cum," they panted.
"I know, darling, but I need this sample. It'll be over soon, I promise."
"No, I- Ah!"
He started stroking again, nice and slow.
"No, Lucien-"
Then quickened his place.
"Lucien, please. I don't want to cum. Please don't make me cum," they sobbed.
Sex had been the last thing on Damien's mind since coming to this hell house, enough so that they never expected Lucien would actually be able to bring them pleasure. The idea of being pulled to climax by someone they despised was distressing - this was something that was supposed to be shared between people you loved. But what could they do? Lucien already had the sample jar in his hand, ready to collect. The spring in their stomach tightened, and tightened…
"No, no, no, no, please!"
They wiggled and thrashed, but there was no escape, and pleasure built even as the straps cut into their flesh. And then came the sudden release. Every muscle clenched, and Damien's cock throbbed in Lucien's hand, releasing thick ropes of cum. Their vision blurred and went dark around the edges, and the next thing they knew, he was there beside them, gently patting their cheek.
"Come back to me, Damien," he said, his gentle voice luring them out of the darkness.
Hey looked up at him, dazed.
"That's it. You're alright," he smiled. "I didn't expect you to cum that hard. Is that normal?"
They frowned and groaned.
"Did you get the damn sample?" they asked.
He chuckled and held it up.
"Five milliliters, or roughly a teaspoon. That's on the high-end of average."
"Delightful," Damien mumbled as their eyes fluttered closed.
A lock of hair was stuck to the sweat on their forehead, and Lucien brushed it away.
"You did so well, Damien," he praised his exhausted lab rat. "Let's get you cleaned up."
wanna be a big intimidating monster but also the most submissive puppy-coded test subject that the scientists just have to praise the tiniest bit and im already on my back ready for another species comparability test
