no sex Descent into growth : Part 1

[Hialmar]

Descent into growth

Part 1

You lifted the receiver from the old-fashioned stationary telephone. Not all equipment on the island had been updated. Your legs were shaky after the flu, and you felt exhausted. You dialled 112.

Silence. 

"Hello? Anyone there? Can anyone hear me?"

You felt a BIG warm presence behind you, and a BIG powerful hand pulled the receiver out of your hand, restoring it to its place, while a deep voice – a both pleasantly and threateningly deep voice – growled behind you:

"What did I say about contacting authorities? Remember, I pay your rent, but don't worry: Welcome back from the sickbed. You are needed in the Lab."

You turned around. It was him, and he was bigger now.

* * *

It had been a bad time for you and your colleagues specialising in the field of research about anabolic radiation, hypertrophic power, alteration of DNA and related areas.

Although the unfinished versions of the treatments had been put to good use by international armed forces in repulsing the space invasion a few years ago, in peacetime the governments of the world had found the process "unreliable, potentially dangerous and in breach of ethical standards", as one of the official reports put it. A series of hushed-down, unfortunate (and, in some cases, horrifying) accidents had dotted any attempts to re-activate research in the field. Not even the potential of improving the conditions of patients suffering from muscular dystrophy could convince the international consensus, that research ought to be re-activated in a careful and benevolent way. 

You had got your degree, you had got an area of expertise, but you had not got any lasting employment within your field. When Mr. Vanderwesthuisen contacted you, it had seemed like a godsend. 

"I've heard, that you are knowledgeable in a rare interdisciplinary field, combining physics and medicine, is that correct?"

The man was affluent, and seemed to expect his coworkers to obey him. That will always have a certain effect on a man's behaviour and charisma. It would have been difficult to say no to Mr. Vanderwesthuisen, but since he offered you money and a legal way to undertake what you liked to do – research – you had no reasons to contravene him. One week later, you found yourself in luxurious living quarters at a private island outside the territorial waters of any sovereign country. Under your supervision, a very expensive lab-equipment was assembled, but all the tedious business with the – not entirely legal – acquisition of the components and biochemicals involved was taken care of by your new employer. Mr. Vanderwesthuisen visited you once a month, in order to follow your experiments.

* * *

After sixteen months, you were ready to switch from lab animals to human test-subjects, but just barely. 

The dining room was as luxurious as the rest of the complex. The air conditioner worked hard to keep the indoors climate refreshing, and, by the look of Mr. Vanderwesthuisen's and the newcomer's tan, it seemed like they had spent their first hours on the island outdoors on the beach. You were an ill-matched trio: Mr. Vanderwesthuisen was wearing an expensive suit and tie. You were in a habit of dressing formally when needed, but dressing down at your leisure time. The newcomer seemed to be considerably younger than Mr. Vanderwesthuisen, probably between the age of 20 and 30, and he was wearing trainers, Adidas tracksuit bottoms and a tight elastic t-shirt with the logo of Under Armour. He had kept his cap on his head, the peak turned backwards, but this ostentatious disregard of table manners didn't seem to disturb your employer at all.

"Doc, meet Nate. Nate, this is Doc. I expect both of you to help each other's talents to blossom."

You shook Nate's hand, and, although he was shorter than you, his firm handshake caused you some pain. Nate was short, but very wiry. His Under Armour-shirt revealed the outline of his chest and abdomen.

With a commanding gesture, Mr. Vanderwesthuisen invited you to the table. The three of you took your seats.

"As you will probably hear from himself soon, Nate is practicing Mixed Martial Arts, but decided to join our little project. Doc is an expert on the lamentably suppressed research on hypertrophic power. I pay him to not suppress it anymore."

Nate's face shone up in youthful enthusiasm and curiosity:

"Is it true what they say, that science actually know how to grow men's muscles into Hulk-size?"

"I wouldn't compare reality to fiction ...", you began, but Nate continued his trail of thought:

"Have you heard the rumours, that some criminals, bodybuilders and strongmen have got their hands on secret equipment, that turned them MASSIVE? Is it true?"

You turned your head to face Mr. Vanderwesthuisen:

"What am I allowed to say?"

Mr. Vanderwesthuisen smiled inscrutably, swallowed a forkful of fish, and answered:

"You asked for a human test subject. Nate hasn't formally signed any contract, yet, but he has been very enthusiastic about the possibilities. Tell him everything you deem suitable."

 That was fast. You had briefly mentioned human test-subjects to you employer, but, for the sake of safety, you would take your time, until the time was ripe.

"Well, ehr, Nate, do you mind if I call you Nate? Illegal beta-test equipment from an earlier stage of research is circulating. That sort of equipment is unreliable, and has caused  unpredictable results like death, deformity or insanity among some of those who dared to try it out. Some did grow: You might have heard exaggerated accounts about those who were lucky. There is a reason, why the research was put to a halt. The equipment I use has been adjusted, and it is built from tested high-quality components. Our Lab only use lab-grade high-quality chemicals, so most of the dangers have been minimized. We will probably be ready to begin experiments on you within a month."

Mr. Vanderwesthuisen's face changed expression:

"I was under the assumption, that we could begin earlier than that?"

"Well, there are some safety precautions ..."

He cut you in the middle of your sentence:

"Nonsense. I have read your reports. The equipment is ready. You are ready. Nate is surely ready, aren't you, Nate?"

Nate's cheeks were blushing for some reason:

"To hulk out? Yeah, I'm ready to hulk out, Mr. Vanderwesthuisen, just as you told me. Promise me, that you will cause me to hulk out, Doc!"

* * *

Part 2 is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/18694-descent-into-growth-part-2/

Edited November 29, 2019 by Hialmar
added link, language

[Perados1]

Sounds very promising... great start

[growthfan96]

A good start, can’t wait to see how this goes.