Irresistible Johnson Ch. 04

Holy crap, my 100th story published on this site. This is one I've had like 90% complete for a year or more, I have no idea. Loads of silly sci-fi rules - in fact, I try to poke fun of that fact. I thought it was perhaps too absurd to finish and publish, but after looking back and seeing how well-liked the first three chapters were, along with the requests, I relented. Posting in exhibitionism like with chapter three, as the non-consent category doesn't really vibe with this comedic theme. Happy 100th!"

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My name is Brian Johnson and I live a conditional life. Ever since the lab accident, things changed, and not for the better. Allow me to recap my woes, so you'll better understand. I was exposed to gamma radiation at work. It was a clumsy, stupid, careless error; just a dumb move on my part. After exposure, the team kept me isolated for weeks and monitored my health.

At the time, it seemed I was going to make it out unscathed, but just as I was about to be released from quarantine, we discovered the true trauma I actually incurred. Karen, my boss (and also an LPN), subjected me to one last physical examination, and at her intrusive insistence to know every detail about me, I explained that my penis was hanging much lower since the gamma exposure. It seemed to be a bit thicker, too. Length was never an issue with me, but hanging there five or six inches all the time was out of the ordinary. Typically, I was a grower, not a show-er. Anyway, Karen takes a peek at Mr. Floppy and gets an insatiable urge to swallow my semen. I swear I couldn't have stopped her if I tried.

Here's where it gets weird. After swallowing, her tits grew instantly, from her modest A cup to a D, I would guess. It was insane. We had to tell the rest of the team what happened, and soon, more tests on my sperm began. Phil, the Senior Partner, desperately wanted to find a way to synthesize it. "Natural breast growth? So many women will want that," he insisted.

The problem was, the breast development was only temporary, lasting about a day, before returning to normal. Up til now, we haven't discovered a way to synthesize my sperm, but further testing led to the discovery that if a woman ingests it, but not directly from the source - say, a Petri dish, for instance (yes, we actually did this) - well, the poor subject gets intensely horny, to the point they will fuck themselves silly in the streets if they have to. Total, unashamed, unabashed sluttery.

I'm sure you can imagine how awful I feel about any of my friends or colleagues having to go through such an experience, even if we were all willing participants in this research. Lately, I was feeling more and more alienated from my colleagues. Hell, even Janice was steering clear of me, and we used to chat every day. Still, the team marched on with the work.

What else? What other stupid things can my penis do? I have a hard time keeping track. Oh yeah, we learned that if I go several days without an orgasm, I produce some kind of pheromone that makes women want to fuck me (and only me) and right. fucking. now. Jesus Christ, the pressure. Can you imagine? I might not want it, but the women demand it. Masturbating alone isn't good enough for them when exposed to this. However, fucking them leads to the risk of me cumming in their pussy (which they always demand, by the way), and that that leads to the worst of it...

Just like when a woman sucks me off, their breasts instantly grow when I cum inside them, but this time they begin lactating heavily. Multiple, daily pumps are required for about week, until the breasts finally, slowly, return to normal.

For a while there, all the girls were terrified the effects were going to be permanent. It was right after I had accidentally fucked every female member of the team in the conference room. My pheromones were off, because I hadn't orgasmed in days, and they all needed my cock. Thank goodness their breast growth and lactation issues only lasted a week or so, after that ordeal. The girls were a bit more forgiving with me when they went back to normal. Well, all except for Karen, my boss. We'll get to her issues later.

So this is my life now. I can no longer be naked in front of any girl, or she'll get the irresistible urge to suck me off. I have to masturbate regularly in order not to get a "build up" of these funky pheromones which drive women crazy, and there's no way I can have any meaningful, long-term relationship with a woman, because who would want to risk getting enormous, milky tits every time they fuck their boyfriend? This was absolutely the worst thing to ever happen to me.

The only friend I could turn to is my sister, Penny. She's my roommate, too, so she understands my plight. We have to be careful that she never sees me naked, considering we share some of the same space. Early in discovery, my sister caught me naked once, and went down on me like a dog on a steak. Or a bone, rather. She hated herself for swallowing every drop of my cum, but came to terms with it pretty quickly when her tits blew up in size. Normally a pert B, Penny looked like a straight-up bimbo. Surprisingly, she loved it, but when her breasts went back to normal the following day, she was grossly disappointed. We rarely speak of the subject anymore.

So here I am, on a Sunday night, once again beating off, so that I can work in peace tomorrow. I wish I had a different life. I wasn't sure how long I could keep this up. I just didn't think it could get any worse.

I was wrong.

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"Well I sure hope you're fucking happy now, Brian!" screamed Karen, the moment I walked into work the following morning. Karen disliked me from the start of my employment, well before the "incident" and her disdain for me grew on a daily basis. I also think she thought I derived pleasure from my predicament. She had no empathy, or understanding, of how it ruined my social life.

"What? What now?" I cried. "I have been nothing but compliant, and I've done everything you have asked of me, since all this began!"

"Heath's dead." Karen said, crossing her arms, glaring.

My heart dropped. Heath was a healthy, middle-aged man. Or at least he was. How could this be? And what did I have to do with it? "Dead?" I gasped, repeating, "Dead? What... what happened?"

Karen spit it out, "Over the weekend, he tried exposing himself to the same gamma radiation that you experienced. We found him this morning. Seemed he died of priapism. We've quarantined the room and sealed the east wing."

"Why are you blaming me?" I asked, dropping my briefcase on the floor. "That's terrible. I don't want anything like that to happen to anyone. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy."

"Did you know he was going to do it?"

"Of course not!" I didn't hesitate answering. It was the truth.

Karen's deep prejudice against me may have some merit. After I came in her pussy at that meeting, knowing her tits would get huge and milky, I then put my cock in her face. It was kind of an evil thing to do, because as we all know, when a woman sees my cock, she has to suck it to completion. It becomes a compulsion for them. Karen is the only woman, of all the girls on the team, who was both exposed to getting creampied, and swallowing my load, in the same brief period of time. Herein lied a new development.

Like everyone else, Karen's tits ballooned up after I came in her. Lucky for her, being small chested, this turned her into a D cup. And just like the others, who got vaginally stuffed with my semen, she began lactating, too. I remember poor Janice being in the room at the time. She's well over a D cup in her normal state, and this was the second time she had been affected by my sperm. The girl could barely walk, and had milk spraying everywhere, in all directions with her every move. But back to Karen...

After a week passed, Karen was the only one whose tits hadn't changed back to normal. Instead, they stayed large and continually produced milk. So much milk. More weeks have since passed, and she is still forced to nurse herself two or three times a day to relieve the pressure. Otherwise, she leaks like a sieve. One can understand why Karen hates me so fucking much.

Still, having this occur had one bonus. It was the first time we had seen long-term (possibly permanent) breast enhancement derived from my sperm, something we'd been working on in the lab for months. We had discussed having one of the other girls try it - that is, taking in my semen vaginally and orally, in the same brief period of time - to see if they would develop this permanent growth like Karen did, but no one wanted to take on the risk, or burden, of having lactating breasts.

Right now, with Heath dead, I figured our research would be set back several months. He was our best scientist, too, very methodical in his work. I shook my head, looking to Kim, noticing she had two large wet stains on her blouse. Her nipples were leaking again. I assume she hadn't yet noticed.

"Karen, I promise. I had no idea Heath was going to do this. If I had, I certainly would have advised against it, and I would have warned you immediately. Heath may have been jealous about my... circumstances... but I assure you it is a curse, and I want nothing more than to be free of this problem! Had Heath succeeded, he would be regretting it. I feel so bad for him and his family."

"Dr. Peterson at UMH is going to do an autopsy for us," said Karen, scoffing at me. "We've had to call the authorities, of course. Your history may come up in this investigation."

"Anything I can do to help?" I asked. "Karen, I'm so sorry. I know you and Heath were good friends."

Karen wiped an eye and looked at some papers she was holding. "Phil is finishing up a meeting in Houston with one of our license-partners, then he's flying straight back. Would you mind helping Heath's wife with the funeral arrangements? I need to organize things with Alicia, and write a couple reports." Karen's voice was cracking. I guess her sorrow had shifted to anger in my presence, but now her emotions were getting the better of her. I know she didn't like me, but Karen was not a hateful person. She had genuine feelings and was hurting right now.

"Of course, give me her number and I'll do whatever I can," I said.

"I'll email you the details. Uh, when is the last time you jacked off?"

"Last night," I sighed.

"Do it again, before you meet with her." Karen didn't want my pheromones creating any issues. I understood, of course, especially during such a sensitive time.

"Okay," I conceded.

I noticed Karen held herself differently since her physical change. She was always assertive, sometimes even aggressively so, but now that she had such a striking figure, she appeared more confident, even in her grief. I headed to my office, prepared to do the deed when I bumped into Janice. "Oh, hey," I said.

"Hey," she repeated, eyes darting to the floor. She stepped aside, allowing more space between us in the narrow hall. Ever since I filled her pussy with my cum, and she had to manage those milky, enormous globes for a week, she went out of her way to avoid me.

I used to be a bit bashful, and I was certainly never one to be described as a go-getter, but considering all the events I'd been through, I was beginning to find it easier to broach uncomfortable subjects. I touched Janice on the shoulder. "Hey, stop a second. Look, I get it. I know why you are apprehensive around me, but please know, I masturbate daily so I don't produce those pheromones. I will never be irresponsible with this, and I will not put you at risk."

Janice huffed and kind of turned red. "I... I guess... look, Brian. Just stay on your side of the fence, okay?"

"That's what I am telling you. I will do just that. I'm only asking you to ease up. You can relax around me. The times you were exposed to me was during the discovery phase. Every test and experiment we've done since then has been with willing participants, with other women. It is always going to be that way from now on. I miss your company and our conversations."

Janice nodded and walked off, hurriedly. In time, I hoped it would get better. It was later that afternoon I met with Heath's wife, Amanda. I drove to her house and she let me in, expecting me. She led me to the kitchen where we sat at the table. I spoke, "They asked me to help you with the arrangements, and to do anything you require during this difficult time."

Amanda was cuter than I expected her to be. A short, dainty little thing, we had never been introduced before this. She was somber, but I don't think the real grief had yet set in. Some people experience trauma in strange ways. "Is it true?" she asked. "He did it on purpose? He exposed himself to radiation on purpose?"

Due to the liability, the company had to tell at least some of the truth, but I just wasn't sure if they gave more details, like as to WHY he did it. "As far as I know, we really don't have all the details, but on the surface, that is what it appears to be."

Amanda was shaking her head. "I thought we were happy. Suicide? Why would he do that?"

"Ma'am, again, we don't know for sure what it is, but I am sure you will discover all the details in due time. There is one thing I do know. Heath always spoke highly of you. He loved you."

The widow gazed up, giving me half a smile. "I don't even know what I'm going to do."

"That's why I'm here. Why don't we just focus on the funeral arrangements? The company is covering all expenses, so you won't have to worry about anything. I've arranged a meeting tomorrow morning with the funeral director, but we can make some of the decisions now in preparation. Is that okay?"

Amanda sniffled and nodded. "Thank you," she said. "Heath really loved his work, I know that. I want you to know I don't find any of you at fault."

I held my breath. Had she known more details, perhaps she wouldn't be saying that. I continued giving information to Amanda that I hoped would help reassure her and said, "I've been advised to tell you that the president of our company insists on matching and honoring Heath's full pension. It's a forty-five year guarantee."

Amanda sighed. "I don't want to think about that right now, but thank you. It's nice to know."

"How about we get a few of the basics covered?"

Amanda looked like she needed the social company, even it was a sad setting. We sat at the kitchen table and went through the coffin selection, service options, floral arrangements, and a host of other details. In between, she peppered the conversation with memories of her and Heath together. "Thank you for helping me with this. Heath and I don't have any family."

"What? No parents? Siblings?"

"We were orphans, both placed in the same home in our late teens. We fell in love almost immediately. Later, when we got our independence, I worked two shifts at bars and diners, while I put Heath through college."

"Wow, a lucky guy," I whispered. Now I better understood the bond they shared. Heath was probably more handsome in his youth, and his wife must have been incredibly attractive then. In her mid-40s, she certainly held it together. Pert, lithe and perky, even in this depressed state.

"We never had kids. Maybe that fear of being orphaned, who knows? We enjoyed our freedom, but yeah, no family. Both Heath and I were shoveled from one foster home to another, until we finally aged out of the program."

We'd been working for some time and I needed to uncramp my legs and pee. "Amanda, would you mind pointing me to the restroom?"

"Oh, you know what, Brian? It's through the hall and to the left, but... well, If it weren't for... you know what? Just follow me." Amanda got up and touched my wrist. "It's back here, but easier to walk you there than try to give you directions. I love this house, but the placement of the guest bathroom is terrible."

Amanda took me through the living room, and down a split hall that took a sharp left. She opened the first door to the right, leading into a bedroom. She pointed to a door on the left-side wall, from the interior door. "Through there. There's no access from the hall, so it confuses people."

"No problem. Thank you." I moved past her, opening the door to the bathroom. Amanda stepped away, heading back to the kitchen, I presumed.

I presume a lot of things. If you've been keeping up with my story, you would know that it's my propensity of relying on assumptions, and presumptions, that constantly causes me grief. Well, it happened again. This time, it was assuming that Amanda had actually left the room.

See, at home, when I am alone, or when I know my sister is asleep in her room, I have habits that are a bit more lax than most. I'm not gross or anything, I just don't typically close the door when I go to the bathroom for a quick tinkle. As Amanda and I were the only ones in the house - and I thought she had walked back to the kitchen, I didn't bother closing the door behind me. Why bother with a bedroom, hallway and living room between me, and the only other person in the house?

I whipped out my cock and prepared for business. To this day, I am impressed by its hefty weight while it's in its flaccid state. Ever since the work incident, it's been like this. I lifted the toilet lid, and was just starting the stream when I heard Amanda's voice. "Oh hey, I haven't checked lately, but if you need more toilet paper, it's under the sink." When I heard her, my heart sank. She sounded very close. Too close... and before I got a chance to respond, her head popped around the door.

Now I can only assume that the reason Amanda would poke her head into the bathroom, is because she believed I hadn't started using it, as evidenced by the open door, I'm guessing. Perhaps she thought that I was in front of the mirror or something, or just about to close the door. Who knows? But the point is, I was standing just a few feet away from the door, aiming my peter into the water bowl when she saw me. The toilet is ninety degrees from the door, so I was angled with my side to her, and everything was clearly in her line of sight.

"Amanda, no!" I yelled, attempting to turn and block my large cock from her view, but by then I was too far in to stop, and I couldn't fully turn away.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Brian!" answered Amanda, but instead of darting back out, she stepped further into the bathroom. "The uh... the door was open, so I thought maybe you were trying to find the toilet paper or something. I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay," I said, as I tried to shift my back to her more, yet Amanda kept inching forward, angling herself around to get a better peek. "Do you... do you think you could let me finish?" I asked.

"Oh, again, I am so sorry. How thoughtless of me. I was just thinking.. well, gosh... I don't know exactly..." As Amanda spoke, she continued creeping closer. I pushed the muscles in my bladder, trying to relieve myself as quickly as possible. This was getting awkward. If Alicia saw my penis, and I think she did, she was having the same reaction every other woman has: the insatiable desire to swallow my semen.

I tried to slow her down. "Ma'am, I uh... I could really finish easier if you would please step back."

Amanda stopped, but she didn't step back. Instead, she tilted sideways, and this time, finally caught a clear look at my long, thick shaft. I wasn't sure how appealing it was with pee streaming out of it, but I couldn't help it. I had to finish.

"Brian, I have to... I have to..." Her voice was trembling, fingertips at her lips.

I turned to her while still in mid-stream, lifting her chin up to meet my eyes, to get them off my penis. "It's okay, Amanda. I understand what you are going through. If you let me finish, I will let you do what you need to do."