The Mammarian Candy Date

Discussion in 'Fictitious Stories' started by Zuiderzee, Jan 25, 2007.

  1. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    The Mammarian Candy Date: Part 1By Zuiderzee:

    zuiderzee@yahoo.com Super-Equipped, Super-Endowed She-Spy preparesto encounter a genetic superboy-who is more than ready to pry into her designer genes. m, F, size,BE,PE,reluc,Scfi,fembot,virg,voy


    Disclaimer: Intended for non-bioengineered forms who have reached the Adult stage in their life-cycles.


    Another erection! They are growing more urgent, more frequent, more durable, and yes, despite all my efforts to control my maturation, my penis is becoming longer and thicker; the spongy core continues to lengthen and the ligament that holds my erection taut is likewise developing beyond any reasonable human limit. I know my reproductive system is preparing itself for something— Correction. For someone.

    I shouldn’t be contemplating sex—but I must never forget that part of being superhuman is simply being human and the mating urge is far more powerful in my makeup and more determined.

    I was never intended to be a dead-end experiment—au contraire—I was meant to continue.To found a super-race without the inconvenience of bio-generation tanks which cost billions anduse up the space and energy of a sports stadium.My experiments have shown that I can produce viablesperm-cells at a fantastic rate. But knowing this, I must be careful, too.


    More and more inhibitors have taken up residence in my expanding scrotal sac,working furiously to keep the number of cells down.I must implant more of these canceling micro-mechsor resort to draining my gonads on a regular basis.


    My testes have enlarged over the last year from the size of D-batteries to a standardized light-bulb. Radical experimentation keeps them at the comfortable size of grade A eggs until I becomehighly aroused—and always over the same subject.


    Her. Agent Vale.


    TO BE CONTINUED--
     
  2. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    Sorry! Had the settings wrong on the quick reply--text came out too small and in wrong font. Catch up later when the mistake is corrected...sigh.
     
  3. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    But enough of her-- Besides my testicles, the other components of my sexual anatomy are just as rampant in their functions. The near-transparent gel that the less serious scientists on my staff refer to as “pre-cum” and “dog-water” jets from my semi-erect penis at the first hint of arousal.

    The amount varies from a bare minimum of 30 ml to a parching 165 ml whether it contains sperms or not. This is disturbing, but not detrimental to my health and energy—and it is just another symptom that my sexual needs are escalating and artificial means of gratification won’t suffice anymore.
    A interior scan shows that my seminal vesicles and cowper’s gland can expand to four times their size and that my prostate has evolved differently than a normal male’s---a bisected gland that can bloat with fluid without ever pinching off my urethra.

    Throughout my body, I am implanted with strategically-placed bio-inhibitors. They are tiny—perhaps the size of a match-head—and mobile; they can roam throughout my various systems where needed, preventing and suppressing unwanted reactions. Careful monitoring on my part keeps my growth in check.

    So, I thought, this is what the enemy calls an Amazon. Bah! A real Amazon would have swam the distance from port. And she would have come alone. Whatever marvels her body had in store,I was certain I could meet or exceed them. Only the cold realization that she was genetically engineered--loosely, my sister, or more accurately stated, my step-sister--stopped me from destroying her and her fellow spy with a CO2 bubble discharge that would have surged up under their small boat,robbing it of its buoyancy and dragging it under without the explosion of a torpedo that would have been easily noticed.
    I had used such attacks before to quietly get rid of snoopers; just another mysterious boat accident/disappearance in the Bermuda Triangle! Little did she know the hell she had just been spared!

    Kiki Vale was looking almost directly into Surface Camera 3-5-1. From her position at the prow-rail of the anchored cabin cruiser,she was regarding the little cluster of bubbles on the water's surface as nothing more than the results of normal agitation.I knew about Super Agent Vale of ICU2.

    This was the first time I had gotten such a clear image. Topside, the winds were gentle, the sea calm. A typically balmy day in the tropics. King of Nassau, that lamely-disguised fiberglass sham, had cut its engines. ICU2 had, to its credit, employed numerous means to scramble its transmissions, but their science was safely behind mine.
    The hyper-antennae appeared to the untrained eye as just so much chrome trim and railing. The modified sonar listening device incorporated into the cabin cruiser's anchor was something out of the 1960's. Pitted against pirates and smugglers, ICU2's infiltration methods, disguises and vehicleswould have been impressive, but compared to the devices and intelligence at my disposal, they might as well have been using 18th century telescopes, signal mirrors, andlog rafts!

    If they possessed superior resources, at least they were clever enough to keep them in the developmental stage or in their vaults. Any mass production would be noted by my spies. I laughed. Far below, sheltered by reefs and rocks was my underwater complex. Activity on the surface came down with little degradation of signal and the images 3-5-1 captured inspired new sensations in my physiology.

    Monitoring devices contained within my tissues fed their data into physiological computers, checking every parameter from temperature to blood pressure to glandular activity.
    Ever since I had been given confirmation of Super Agent Vale's identity, I had been makingthe recording devices sing with new readings.
    Before today, I had never reacted so powerfully.
    Soon, I calculated, I could leave all these new records behind me.
    Super Agent Vale had an operating number within ICU2, but we had never learned it.

    TO BE CONTINUED
     
  4. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    Arbitrarily, I designated her: Experiment G1-EVE- XXXX. She appeared young, and would for decades yet to come. Genetic engineering would give her superbly elastic tissue that would defy wrinkles and signs of aging. 25 years had passed since her conception--she still resembled images of a healthy female of 17, albeit with enormous, round breasts.


    I could see beyond such...distractions, of course. She had grown into a wide set of hips. Her glutes and thighs were curvaceous, that pelvis roomy--a fine, expansive, child-bearing pelvis that would serve her well in her near future. Always, those thighs seemed to be parted. Not justparted--spread wide in a loose, slutty fashion that kept her crotch exposed to view.
    Any ladylike behavior she displayed in my presence would be affected.This was a female who liked sex and who had enjoyed a vast secondary career as a seductress!
    Those breasts!
    No, no, those details didn't affect me.

    I was a scientist.

    Reading my response, several of the bio-readout meters went redline, spiking and causing additional software to kick into life to assure more accuracy. It would be a nipple matter--a simple matter--to caress.
    To address!
    I would begin with a titty suckle--a tissue sample!

    Meanwhile, my focus was riveted on her impressive derriere. DOSSIER!

    In contrast, I was only one year younger than she, but due to additional containment within the nutrient tanks during which I was given extensive subliminal education, my development was arrested.
    I remained within the womb-like environ with an artifical umbilical feeding me oxygen and nutrients while vast amounts of audio-taped information was fed into my brain. When I was deemed ready to emerge from that state, after more than a full decade of delicate refinements, I was an educated infant. Physical growth was assured, and I was by no means weak. The nutrients given me were often of a slow-acting sort.
    I had latent energy and modified glands and unique hormones--even though outwardly, I resembled a male of only four or so years of age. Since then, I have grown at a steady rate, but well behind natural boys
    of the same age. Kiki Vale was introduced to outside life as a natural girl child and permitted to grow alongside them as though she had been produced by purely sexual means.

    Unlike myself, she grew up without the knowledge of her origins and only recently was isolated and informed and brought into the fold of ICU2--a corrupt agency. I am now only four feet, eleven inches tall and my weight is considered ideal by our medical staff.

    Agent Vale on the other hand is six feet, two inches tall, athletic, and other than her ballooning breasts is proportinate.


    Growing up without the company of real women had given me peace and time to conduct my experiments without their interaction. My mounting sexual needs were satisfied, but only satisfied with the production of human-like "fembots" whose pliable, penetrable bodies replicated those of natural women insofar as our research and manufacturing skills and materials could permit.

    I was more than willing to make an abrupt transfer from the obliging bevy of fembots and into the realm of flesh and blood.

    Agent Vale's timely arrival would facilitate that breakthrough quite nicely. Quite, quite nicely.

    The anticipation of touching her skin caused lights to flare on my bodily-monitoring apparatus. This was something new to the equipment, both mine and the machine. My gonads shifted, almost breaking the contact of the sensitive pads affixed to the skin of my naked, hairless scrotum.

    TO BE CONTINUED
     
  5. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    After a minute, the flaring lights became constant, signaling a new phase of growth and hormone production that would not abate.


    There would be no resumption of my previous level. Whatever I could do now was markedly better than what I'd thought as my record when the day began.

    All this from the mere sight of a woman!

    A pity she did not know of my progress. I could see her clearly through the fish-eye lenses of that camera. Software of my own design corrected the convex distortion and I saw her with something more resembling normal human sight on my series of surveillance screens.
    So far, there were ten such cameras of identical manufacture surrounding the cabin cruiser at varying distances. By all accounts, even from satellite and my own agents who'd watched the boat leave dock, they had arrived alone. A small seaplane had veered away from this sector four hours before.
    It, too was being tracked and once it landed, it would get the same inspection I was giving this deceptively innocent-looking pleasure craft. Her fellow agent, 1088 on our files, was looking at the woman with the same sort of eagerness I was.
    He had an erection of a sort deemed appreciable for natural males of his age, but went through absurd means to hide his arousal from his agent as if he didn't trust her and visa versa.

    Realistically, 1088 probably had orders not to engage in sexual activity with the Super Agent and she was likely reserving her body for me, whether she was truly prepared for me or not.

    And how could she be?

    I had studied Agent Vale's suit to the minutest detail. The form-scanning laser array installed at Airlock Gamma was the best our scientists could devise, but on a moving subject, there were always sections the sweeping scanners missed.
    She was still on her descent, dropping down through the water past the point where sunlight could reach. Her diving suit for the most part did little more than keep her body warm and dry in the marine environment. If she was stripped of it, she would by no means be as vulernable as a normal female. I found that salutory.
    Those massive, bloated pulmonary sacs on her chest held more than enough air to survive the underwater free-fall. Weights held in her hands provided negative bouyancy. The curves of her form were asthetically pleasing, even arousing, but I had been trained to think scientifically first and foremost--baser lusts had their place, but first, I had to make sure she was not going to compromise this base with smuggled technology.

    The sophomoric technicians at ICU2 had no doubt tampered with her body medically, implanting it with sensors, power cells, recording devices and myriad micro-scale communicators. Leaving extrapolation to amateurs, I decided to leave the cyberspace images to the cold hands of technology. What was required here was a more intimate approach.

    A hands-on approach.

    My hands.

    That intimate touch would have to wait an hour or so. My self-designed coital unit was engaged in draining my over-active gonads of normal spermatazoa.

    Naked, I was mounted atop the bucking automoton while it ran through its programs of intimate sexual behavior. Boasting only a handful of stainless steel compontents which were housed deep within its thorax, the body of this machine--which was designed to copy the body of a young human female--was warm and pliant to my touch.

    The yielding, fleshy body was perhaps too gelatinous, but this was a limiation of our technology. Once Agent Vale's genetic material was sampled, a far more vital phase of my project could begin.

    TO BE CONTINUED
     
  6. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    The chief surgeon was initially startled beyond the composure expected of his profession when I masturbated to climax for the first time a year ago--prematurely providing him with the sperm sample he had planned to extract from me by medical means.

    The electrical stimulation of my scrotum with a probe didn't appeal to me.

    I borrowed a redundantly-inscribed beaker from the lab and brought it with to my private quarters where I stripped, manipulated my penis to full erection and stroked with mildly-lubricated hands until I swooned and ejaculated.
    Due to the intensity of the first spasms, most of my ejected semen wound up on various surfaces of my quarters, but I brought the wide mouth of the beaker into position in time to collect what I supposed was a generous amount.

    Enough to dissuade him or anyone else on the staff from collecting this fluid with electrial stimulation. DNA tests proved the fluid was all mine, but many on the staff were unwilling to take my word on faith that the sample I had provided had been produced from a single orgasm.

    I was simulataneously disappointed that I had no real equal to allow me to relate to my unexpected virility and conceited that no other male in the organization no matter what his age or physical conditioning could match or hope to match my seminal productivity.
    I made frequent inquiries as to the development of other genetically enhanced humans, only to be told the engineers had to watch my progress carefully before they went ahead and fashioned a subrace of supermen and superwomen.

    The more time passed, the more I realized if I was to see more of my kind, I would be forced to produce them MYSELF!

    To my frustration, the medical staff did not do anything more with my spectacular fluid than run tests and store small amounts in cryogenic freeze cannisters "for later".

    Perhaps I couldn't produce them strictly by myself--going to natural route of sexual reproduction made more and more sense despite the fact the staff of the complex was %100 male. Not a single frozen human ovum was kept in the lab despite my numerous searches.

    If one had, I would have certainly have used it.

    Yes, the mating urge had hit me. And I was sure that just one session with a capable female would bring about a successful fertilization. The magnitude of my semen assured me this was not only possible, but inevitable and absolutely vital.

    When finally they told me about Kiki Vale, I knew I had to arrange a meeting, no matter how vastly different our bodies were. The differences would only make the pooling of our resources more rewarding. In the meantime, the bio-engineers and cybernetic experts had created outlets for my sexual needs.

    Their harem of fembots were tailor made for my lust, capable of mating with me in various positions while their interior cavities captured my ejaculations, only to flush the fluid later on like bodily wastes.

    I used various means to save my semen, laying it by like medicine for "whenever". A mere week of coupling with the new fembots had awakened my augmented glands and hormones. When I grew tired of six hours of sexual activity, I cleaned and stored them, retiring to my quarters to have the latest scientific information insinuated into my subconscious in mute layers via cranial receptors.

    I could shut these off when I pleased. And I frequently did as my interests with my reproductive system and capabilities increased. Well rested and inspired to an appropriate mood, I could, without the aid of fembot stimulation, pump out a total amount of pre-seminal fluid and spermatazoa-rich ejaculate to the 85cc mark on the beaker.

    I never had an audience to these sessions, at least I didn't let it worry me. I used the swimming pool and sauna baths at the complex with the other males, unhindered by my nudity. I had been conditioned without modesty concerning my body and grew up without a qualm at being naked in front of others.
    Evidently, it was not normal or natural, but somehow desired that males possess a phallus such as I had been engineered to grow.
    I grew accustomed to the stares of the normal men as they evauluated my unique physique. Men new to the complex seemed always to be disturbed and distracted by the display of my phallus when I stripped down to swim or relax in the spa.

    One thing I was certain of, not one of them had a set of genitals as large as mine even though I had the overall form of a child for far more years than normal. When I first measured my penis, both flaccid and erect, I thought little of the fact it spanned a full nine inches when dormant and slightly over twelve when ready to erupt.
    This was at the age of fifteen, but as I should have stated already, my growth had been arrested for years and my resumption of normal human development slow and beind my chronological age.

    It was generally said I looked (other than my genitals) like a "kid". The fembots which were presented to me as a birthday present when I reached thirteen, were the only toys I ever had to play with.

    Every member of the medical staff as well as the support staff, revolving agents, cleaning crew, communications, engineers and undesignateds knew about the fembots, but they never touched them.
    The fembots had non-discretely been made for my use. They were confined to my level of the complex and even then rarely ventured anywhere beyond the four chambers which comprised my unit.


    Monitors 1 through 42 showed Agent Vale submerged in 50 fathoms of water, needing no specialized breathing apparatus other than the bulging pair of pulmonary sacs which were her most conspicuous feature. Having begun their lives as ordinary-looking female breasts, puberty had transformed those outward-thrusting hemispheres into dynamic, specialized organs which drew air from her lungs and contained remarkable volumes in a network of innumerable hollow cysts.
    File images from still photographs to video segments documented her astounding growth over the years. To her, these genetically imbued features were little more than lures to sex-engrossed males of her aquaintaince, including the son of her adoptive parents.

    That familial coupling had been the last act of sex she'd engaged in before ICU2 operatives were dispatched to claim her.
    My own exo-dermal suit was ahead of Agent Vale's in design; I regarded with some conceited amusement at the crude "zip" fasteners which provided closure to her wetsuit--an outdated, unreliable design.
    Hadn't ICU2 employed their accumulated knowledge of magnetism to invent fasteners which relied on more sophisticated means of sealing and releasing? We had moved far beyond rudimentary magnetism and had made reflex-action fasteners practical. With micro-sensors built into the suit and relying on the pulses of the wearer's nervous system to activate them, I could activate the personal safety measures built into the exo-dermal suit even with my hands securely bound!

    In contrast, her "mission-specific" outfit was little more than an off-the-rack wetsuit, augmented only in certain places with specialty fabrics and expansion joints which were decades behind our simplest diving gear--and Agent Vale was designated a Super-Agent. Was this how ICU2 chose to equip their elite operatives?

    They didn't realize her potential!

    I did.

    From the moment the ICU2-dispatched boat anchored over my installment, mobile remote cameras were swarming the sector, capturing images from all angles. The fiber-optic periscopes which were designed to rememble surface bubbles had done their work spectacularly. Long before she had gone into the cabin of the disguised fishing boat to change into her crude wetsuit, I had seen the outward results of one of the century's most daring genetic experiments.

    In approximately sixty minutes, I would get to show Super-Agent Vale my idea of genetic superiority.

    And I wouldn't stop with a mere show.

    She was bringing me her body, and that was the missing element in my plans to dominate the world!

    END OF PART ONE--whew!
     
  7. B_Hickboy

    B_Hickboy New Member

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    That twinge in your intestines
    It needs an HR Giger illustration.
     
  8. masterblaster

    masterblaster New Member

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    ...wow, that's quite a piece of work, I must say.

    *slowly backs out of thread*
     
  9. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    I try fellas...ya gotta believe me, I really try. Sure, it might be missing
    something, but the tone changes later on. Anyway, it's not set in stone and the later parts have been popular on other sites. SIGH.
     
  10. kensington Steele

    kensington Steele New Member

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    Keep it comming! Over size gental - world domination - and large breast. I have no idea where this story is going, but I am compelled to read more. Thanks.
     
  11. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    Well, K.S. , that's more encouraging. Just sit tight and the second
    part (told from a different POV) is on its way. It has to be edited for--
    ahem--length, to make sure it fits the LPSG theme. I need more feedback; the story was written as a 4 parter.
     
  12. kensington Steele

    kensington Steele New Member

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    I suspect the negative feedback comes from the story starting open ended and breaking in the middle of the setting before a complete imagary could be made. The story is radicial sci fi without any real referrence points to ground most readers.

    I personally take the ambiguity as a challendge and are drawn into the story. However, I would suspect that without more parts to the story some readers are likely left bewildered by the narrative jumping around and the surreal setting of the main character. More parts and plot will close the openiness of the start and attract greater appeal.

    The other aspect is that while the story start is erotically themed, it lack any sex. And that alone does lose some readers. For other readers, like me, the promise of extreme sex will keep me looking for the next part.

    Look forward for more.

    KS
     
  13. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    Good points, K.S. I had a little auto-eroticism going on and some
    implied use of fembots, but I suppose now that wasn't enough. In future incarnations, I intend to summarize and suggest rather than lay too much
    out in detail. I also have to juggle the sequences better, but again, this
    story was first submitted to an Amazon site: Diana the Valkyrie. It was
    popular there, but all the male genital stuff really didn't fit their theme
    except as an obstacle to be overcome.

    In the next part, Pentagon brass and CIA lead off the story with a
    flashback that builds an incomplete frame around the narrative.

    From there, we jump into first person with Kiki Vale and that's where
    the LPSG-themed stuff becomes more intimate. Come to think of it,
    maybe parts one and two should be switched with each other.

    See for yourself a little later. Z.
     
  14. B_kenetik

    B_kenetik New Member

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    Enjoying the read. Nice.
     
  15. Zuiderzee

    Zuiderzee Active Member

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    Thanks...just about to post part 2.
     
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