But as for experiments? So many ideas... I suppose a good starter would just to record over a week how frequently each pup gets bred, do they breed with the same pups every time, ect, just to get a baseline of how often this sort of activity is and if theres certain time of day that is preferred.
However, for fun I decide to skew the results. Before I release you out with the rest one day, I douse your collar in a hormone cocktail that not only gets you aroused, but all the other puppies suddenly can't help themselves when they're around you. Everyone is practically clambering over each other to get to your holes, all while I stand a little ways away with a small gas mask and clipboard.
Later when I show my fellow scientists the results they can't help but be curious about what's so special about you that they bring you into the observation deck to check you over for any alterations. However, as the hormones penetrate their mind, they can't help but pinch and grope a little harder than normal. I point out to everyone how wet you are- that maybe you're in heat and that has caused this anamoly.
It isn't long before the scientists start gathering around closer to you. They start rubbing between your legs supposedly to check your wetness, but they don't stop. They keep going while another 'weighs' your chest with their hands, but they don't step away from being pressed up behind you.
Unbeknowst to my collegues, I have some discreet nose plugs in, and am sitting at a desk only a few feet away. Even as they start full on breeding you themselves infront of me, I still diligently jot down my own notes about the situation. Especially about you.
Afterwards I'll take you to your kennel so you can have a night of recuperation from the days excitement. You'll need it for the experiments I have planned later on >:]
(I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this ask, you keep sending me the absolute hottest things I've ever read and I want to do them justice <3)
I wouldn't even know I was going to be your subject at first. My days comprised only of getting bred and used and filled without a care in the world for the people watching and diligently taking notes, without ever noticing the hunger and curiosity in your eyes every time you watched my hole stretched around yet another knot.
Then one morning, you come to my kennel before I'm let out, making sure I'm too absorbed in the pets you give me to notice your gas mask, or to care about the new wetness on my collar. I'd only know anything was different when the hormones start to addle my already-dumb puppybrain.
Heat, worse than anything I've felt since starting T, an all consuming need to be filled, a desperate horniness that leaves no room for anything else. No room for thoughts, for inhibitions, for shame.
Within minutes I'm humping the pillows in my cage, and by the time I'm let out, I'm a dripping, whining, begging mess, smelling so strongly of simple pathetic need that the other puppies can't help but use me like the pack breeding bitch. I'm bred and knotted and fucked and used in every way, my holes stretched so much I feel that I may break, the onslaught continuing even after they've all had a turn or two. No matter how fucked-out I get, I just keep whining for more, my holes just keep dripping and begging to be stuffed full.
By the afternoon, the rest of the research team will have noticed the anomaly, and though it takes over an hour to pry every pack member off of me, I eventually find myself in the sterile examination room, strapped down and spread open wide. I won't be able to stop myself from babbling and begging, only getting louder as touches start to linger on my most sensitive parts, as a once-clincial exam changes with every breath of heat-scented air.
I'll be too fuck-drunk and hazy to know what it means, but I'll notice you then. I'll see you, grinning in the corner, still pristine and unaffected, taking notes as your esteemed colleagues shoot yet another load of cum deep inside me, as the speculum comes out and they see just how much my little holes can really gape.
No, I won't know what it all means until you wash my collar off that night, until the heat fades from my brain and I curl up in my cage. I'll understand it as I drift off to sleep, realizing that I'm your experiment, your subject, your creature, and knowing that I can never know what you'll do tomorrow.
