Trial 1717

byCatRun©

Trial 1717:

"March 20th, 2315, Trial 1717. Though with no successful attempts so far, we continue experimentation. Uh.... With only four samples remaining, we've decided to test more drastic theories.... And uh... we..."

He didn't know I was watching. I've grown more and more concerned for him over the years. Now that we've pretty much run out of subjects, he was getting worse.

He switched off the microphone and yelled out of frustration, "FUCK." Sweeping his arm across the surface of the table, some papers and other small objects fell onto the floor, also throwing the mic down to join them. Practically on the brink of tears, he yelled in frustration, his words indiscernible, aggressively pulling at his short, curly, dark brown hair.

I was torn, however, because I've had a crush on him since we met; it made work difficult sometimes. I first met him when I was 47, and my 64th birthday is coming in less than a month. I may have been 64, but I didn't look a day over 25, compared to people from a few centuries ago. We tried to make a go of it four years back, but it was too hard on him because of the pressure of the trials. We have stayed close ever since though, still teasing and flirting with each other. I would never tell him, but it's been hard on me too; not being able to explore a relationship with the man I loved. It doesn't hurt that he's also so cute; about 5' 11', 175lbs and as fit as anyone could be. He has broad shoulders and tight abs that I just want to wrap my arms around.

In 2097, Doctor Mel Stoddard discovered a way to reduce the effects of aging greatly. It wasn't cosmetic surgery or anything to make us "look" younger; it actually just slowed, almost stopping, the aging process, and you can choose when to make the effects kick in. Some people have bitched about their lives "dragging on," but not me. I've been a young adult for the better part of four decades, though I guess I was fortunate enough to have a body that I could play to my advantage in life. Even still, I've never thought that I was as pretty as other women told me I was.

Physically, I'm 5' 1'', with what people have described as a "thin" body. My hair is golden blond with white highlights and comes down to the lower slope of my breasts, which are on the high end of a C cup. I'm not ashamed to say that I've used my body to get what I've wanted many, many times. My eyes I often bitch about however. They seem too large for my head and my head seems too large for my body. Others around me disagree though.

The effects of the anti-aging drug become more long lasting with each successive generation. My mother gave birth to me at the age of one hundred and thirteen and lived to be one hundred and thirty nine. Tests show that both Cameron and I will live to see our 250th birthday. A blessing or a curse; I'm not sure which yet.

The trials were hard on Cameron. Hell! They would have been difficult on anyone. He was special, the only person born with thirty one chromosomes, who actually lived. The poisons from earth made countless genetic changes; one of which was tissue regeneration with thirty-one chromosomes. Cameron's grandmother was exposed while living on earth. She was one of the lucky ones who were fortunate enough to have been evacuated early enough before the toxins got worse. She got pregnant while living in one of the ships in the fleet and died on the table when she gave birth to his mother. His mother suffered the same fate when Cameron was brought into the world, err... space... whatever.

Of the 26 billion world population, less than 1% was left behind due to extreme exposure causing death before the evacuations were complete. Thinking we were all safe having left earth before death, our people were surprised when over 70% of the population in the fleet suffered delayed and gruesome effects of the exposure, eventually dying. The population has grown since then, but we are nowhere close to the numbers from before.

The ships were soon absorbed into the fleet allowing people to spread out, giving us an entire ship to ourselves for scientific study. It wasn't just us though; we had an entire crew for support. A lot of responsibility fell on Cameron when it was discovered that his genetics were the key. This was a problem for him, since the trials and experiments were done on fetuses that had to have his genetic code. We tried artificial insemination but his seed has different properties that won't allow them to survive more than millisecond if exposed to the air or environment. Even then, only half the sperm survives when done properly; they're very delicate.

It took its toll on him though. I do everything I can, but sometimes it's just not enough. The subjects have to be alive, and since we don't really feel like "rape" is an appropriate method of scientific study, we sedate the patients. We joke every once in a while about him being a necrophiliac, but it's lost its humor over the years.

Standing there watching him I almost fell over, catching myself in a daydream. I dreamt of him a lot actually; whether day dreams or when I was actually asleep. I woke this morning drenched in sweat and my own nectar. There was just something about him, though I could never put my finger on it.

I've been with countless partners, both men and women, and never once did I allow them any power over me, whether emotional or physical. I've always been the one in control, no matter what circumstances I found myself in. I think that's how I stayed alive and more importantly been as successful as I have. But there was something different about Cam, he's sweet, kind and actually spoke his mind, not caring what anyone thought of him. Moreover, he was strong, not just physically, but he had a strength of will like none other, that made me want him even more.

In my life, I've always held the power, but with Cameron I actually wanted him to grab me forcefully, overpower me, bind and abuse me for nothing more than pleasuring himself. I wanted him to make me feel helpless, out of control. He didn't notice me behind him, and I caught myself thinking about the dream I had about him last night.

In my dream he was a stranger. When I met him for the first time, something fell over me, some sort of power, something deep inside me. I don't know how we made it to his house, but once inside, he stripped down in front of me, revealing a massive cock, hanging down to his knees, swinging between his thighs. But I was okay with it, just staring at it, wanting it.

He didn't even bother starting out slow, but that's what I wanted, he got into it quick and before I knew it he was finished with my pussy and went straight for my tight, little ass. On my back with my legs over his shoulders, I looked him in the eye as he lined up with my rosebud and in one fierce stroke he was inside me, buried all the way to the hilt.

Normally I would have cried out for help, but I didn't care about my safety, I didn't care that he was hurting me, but at the same time, somehow, no matter how much pain he dealt, I felt it as pleasure. My eyes opened wide, and I screamed so forcefully that my voice was cut off and I went silent. Before I could catch my breath he pulled out till just his crown was inside me and forcefully thrust into me again; my face showing the signs of pure agony with a silent scream of pleasure and terror. Before he could even think about his next actions, I finally gasped, "More... fuck me more." This was the best sex I've ever had.

He pulled almost all the way out and thrust back in, this time without hesitation, continually thrusting in harder and faster each time, his thighs slapping my ass. He leaned forward, my legs almost touching my chest, and kissed me roughly while he pounded my tight asshole. He pulled his hands from propping himself up, and grabbed my neck.

He grasped my throat with one and then the other; putting all his weight on me and squeezed with all his strength. At first, I went along with it, grabbing his ass pulling him into me faster and harder. Then my skin began to turn blue; he looked me in the eye, lips perched out grasping for air, pushing lightly on his arms and chest for him to stop. He kept squeezing and I turned from blue to purple. I began fighting him, pushing him more fiercely, clawing, and prying at his hands, but he wouldn't stop. The fighting intensified, but he didn't care; he kept at my ass, over and over, plunging his length as far into me as he could, my tits shaking back and forth; then he leaned in and kissed me on my near-death, purple lips. He pulled away for a moment then back in, this time making out with me. On the brink of unconsciousness I lost control, my arms went limp, dropping to the side of me flat on the bed; but he kept kissing me.

That was the point I woke up... but Lord knows I didn't want to. My dream left me confused; I've never felt like this about any one. I was angry with myself for waking up. I tried my best to return to slumber land, but it wasn't happening. Instead, I had to settle for finishing the job myself. My thighs were dripping wet with my own sweetness, still flowing out of me, giving plenty of lube.. I laid on my back, reaching down with one hand, dipping two, then three fingers into myself, using my thumb to work my clit My other hand, I brought up to squeeze and massage a tit, causing me to moan. It didn't take long to reach fruition after that dream.

Another swing of his arm took the monitor and everything else on the desk, with it; startling me, bringing me out of my trance. He caught a glimpse of me in the corner of his eye, "Oh shit, I didn't know you were there, sorry."

I walked toward him speaking softly, "Now what would you possibly have to be sorry for?" In my own head, I added the thought "Other than that thing you did to me last night," recalling my dream.

"I shouldn't act like this; it's unprofessional." He took a deep breath and leaned back in the chair as I placed my hands on his shoulders, gently massaging. "I just want this to be over. Seriously... I can't, for the life of me, remember the last time I threw it in someone that wasn't unconscious."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Then stop, let's take a cruiser and just go, doesn't matter where. Let's just get out of here..." He rested his hands on my arms, turning his head toward mine, kissing my hand. "...Get your mind off things, Lord knows you deserve it," I added.

He sighed, "We have to get this done...." He placed his hand on my cheek, causing my mind to wander. "...only four left."

Wanting him to wander other places with that hand, other than just my cheek, I continued, "Yeah, you're right, we have only FOUR tries left. As a scientist and someone who wants one of them to be a success, shouldn't you take a step back clear you mind and come back to finish this with fresh eyes?"

He sat quietly for a moment; I thought I lost him. "You're right. We've been at this nonstop; we haven't taken a break in a few years." Holy shit, it worked. He let me go and spun around in his chair, "Are you going to be okay if I can't... you know?"

I took a seat in his lap and gave him the tightest hug I could and whispered in his ear, "I don't care if we have sex; I just want you to be happy." I paused a moment and pulled away to look him in the eyes, "But mostly, I just want to spend time with you, to be with you." I kissed him on the cheek, "I don't care about the other stuff." I haven't lied like that in who knows how long. It almost made me vomit. Of course I cared, it was all I could do not to rip his clothes off and mount him right there, and if he refused? Well, we have a whole lab full of tools and medications for this very thing. I'm not above drugging a friend for sex.

While I would never admit to their contents, he would often catch me daydreaming about him, being taken fiercely right here in the lab, knocking tubes and other lab equipment off the counters just to have a place to fuck. When he would ask, in my sweetest voice I would reply, "Oh, just thinking about earth, and what it must be like now." Or some other such bullshit.

"Really?" he asked, turning his cheek away from my lips and retuning a kiss of his own on mine. Fireworks exploded in my brain sending shivers throughout my body. My legs quivered as a wave of pleasure rushed between my thighs. I had to hold myself back from moaning, trying not to show my weakness for him.

He pulled away just enough to say that our lips weren't touching, and then stopped. I didn't move either; I just sat quietly taking in the moment. Cameron sighed, breathing into my mouth as he processed in his mind what was happening. He leaned in until his lips barely grazed my own, and then pulled away again. "No, I... I just..." he mumbled a few more times then slowly moved in closer.

I held as still as I could, which was difficult considering I could already feel that my panties would have been wet, had I been wearing any; all I wanted to do was fuck him. His lips touched mine once again, softly, gently. I breathed heavily for a moment causing my lips to rub against his, not kissing me, but just holding still.

"Oh my God! I can't take this anymore," I thought to myself, "I'm about to explode!" For a second, I thought I actually said that out loud. He wrapped his hands around my body bringing me in closer, lifted his chin and moved his head toward mine, closing the gap between our lips. I responded in kind. I'm not sure what it was, we've kissed and made out before but never like this. I have to wonder if it's because it had been four years since we last engaged in something like this, though all the while since then flirting and teasing each other every day.

Our tongues pressed against each other, moving one another from side to side, from my mouth to his. Not too much tongue that he was gaging me, but just enough to get me going. I moaned into his mouth and pulled away embarrassed, but he didn't seem to care. Without skipping a beat, Cameron pulled me back in; the old metal chair squeaking, more and more, the longer we went.

Then, out of nowhere, like being woken up with a pitcher of ice cold water, he panicked, "No I... can't." Pushing me off his lap, he stood up as fast as he could, like there was a fire. And there was; a fire of lust and passion that was burning inside me. My lips were so sensitive that when my leggings shifted as I stood, I nearly came. A rush of pleasure surged all over my folds, up my mound, and through my tummy. I squeezed my legs together and shivered trying to hold it back.

"FUCK!" I yelled, stepping back from him.

My anger snapped him back to reality and an apologetic look appeared on his face, "Oh shit, I'm..." He paused for a moment, "Oh God, I'm... I am so sorry. It's just that these..." He looked around at all the bodies of the dead subjects, "I just..."

My body was still shaking, but I realized he was right, "I guess we could have picked a better room to fool around in."

He interrupted, "I want to, I really do just... we did picked a bad time." He took a breath and sighed, "Don't hate me?"

I stepped back again until my back side found a counter to lean against and gave him a smirk and giggled, "No, I could never hate you." My strength came back to my legs, and I pushed myself off the counter toward him, walking slowly, "It's just... honey you know how to get a girl riled up, and I was up there."

He lowered his head and stared at my crotch taking notice of my tight white leggings, "Yeah..." he scratched his head and then pointed at my thighs, "I uh... I can see that."

"FUCK!" I screamed again placing my hands between my thighs and turned my body away from him. My face instantly turned red with embarrassment, making it warm to the touch, "Oh God, sorry." I wasn't wearing any panties so my juices went straight through the only layer of clothing I had. To make matters worse, I had made it a point to wear leggings three times smaller than I usually wore, to showcase as much of me as I could.

Cam laughed as he walked toward me, the space between us disappearing, "Oh darl'n." Still laughing, he reached a hand out toward me, grabbing my arm, turning me to face him. My body turned, but my face did not; I didn't want to look at him, my hands still covering the wet spot on my pants. He noticed my hands weren't moving but he didn't care, he just wrapped his arms around me and held me tight.

"The last thing you should be is embarrassed," he said. "I should tell you, that actually just turn's me on even more." He kissed me on my cheek to make me feel better. It worked and my embarrassment subsided. I moved my hands up his body, rubbing his back as I went. "Plus, your pants being wet right there, just make it easier to see your... well... you know?"

I leaned back slapping him on his chest, "You fucker... what a dick." I saw a chance to move things forward without any pressure, "Now you HAVE to make this up to me."

Suddenly he pushed my body away from his, taking hold of only my right hand. When my body was extended all the way out from his, he pulled me toward him, spinning me around until I rolled up, cuddled close to him. He leaned me back until my hair was falling away from my body, and then leaned in to kiss me, "Deal." He then quickly pulled me up, glanced suspiciously around the room, and said, "But... we gotta get out of here... this shit's creeping me the hell out."

I laughed and hugged him but was interrupted by him before I could even speak, "And, you're right, we need to get the hell out of here. All this shit can wait. Well, I guess it CAN'T wait, but it's going to have to."

"That's a good idea; plus I need to get out of these clothes." I smiled then leaned in, kissed him once and starred into his eyes, "Come on, I'll let you watch me change."

We made the call to requisition a cruiser while we packed, giving them enough time to get it ready before we left. He decided to return to his own room to pack, leaving me alone for a moment. I tore off my wet pants and tossed them in the hamper. They hit with a splat.

I took my shirt and bra off and caught a glance at myself in the mirror just to make sure everything was in the right place for our trip. As I checked myself out, I couldn't help imagining Cameron standing next to me naked, and all the places on my body he might touch. I caught myself breathing heavily as one hand made its way to my most private area.

I snapped back into reality and finished getting dressed, though part of me wanted to rub one out while he was still on my mind and my nerves were still on fire. "Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time I finger fucked myself while thinking about him," I thought out loud, hoping he might actually be standing close enough outside my door that he could hear it.

I found myself struggling to get him out of my mind, but he had a special gift. More than just his genetic code, Cam had the gifts of sense and selflessness. Even though it may have been a burden at times, he had the sense enough to get an extra-large cock during his anti-aging therapy. Sadly, the main beneficiaries of that are all dead.

Doctor Stoddard's discovery was based on the changing of ones DNA. This change in DNA structure allowed other chemicals in the process to take effect. During this time, depending how long their bodies take to change, we have a period of time that we can make changes elsewhere in or on our bodies. I chose intellect (how much of my brain I can use) giving me a huge advantage in education and employment.

I also chose attractiveness that enhanced all of my secondary sexual characteristics. No matter what I eat or do, I can't gain weight excessively or at all for that matter; and when I try to lose a pound or two, I shed it almost instantly, with only one trip to the gym. It also enhanced my breasts, making them larger and fuller, as well as causes me to produce more vaginal fluids which allow for more sexual activity. My body also changed inside to allow for larger objects including the men who had the good fortune to choose a third enhancement. I definitely need to get some good use out of that one. Sadly, my body finished the anti-aging process before I could pick a third.

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