The Megan Kale Project – Part 1 By RipTite Unable to afford student life, Megan sells her body to medical science. ========================================================================== WARNING: Adult content! ========================================================================== £7463.24 DR. If it weren't for that "DR" she'd be rich. Being almost seven and half grand in debt, however, is far from rich, and with her student fees for the second year looming, Megan was coming to the reality that she had to get some… no, a lot of money… quick. Her parents were rich, but she was the independent type. Daughter of a Japanese tycoon and an English model, she had an extremely rich background. But she'd already got her mother's looks and her father's brains; she wanted nothing more given to her. Standing at little over five foot two, she had inherited a lot of Japanese features; petite mouth, nose and ears, wide and narrow eyes, yet with the very English, slightly tanned complexion, and a few freckles her nose and cheeks. And she was slim. With a body to die for, and her dirty-blonde, shoulder- length hair, her mother's modelling company had already scouted her, but she turned it down to pursue what she wanted, not what she could easily obtain. And what she wanted was a law degree, the most expensive around… naturally. ********** Megan sat down with a thump on the bench outside the Freescape, the University bar. John, Dan and Suzi were already there, her three housemates. She took a paper out of her bag and spread it on the table, immediately going to the jobs section. "Jesus Megan, just ask your parents. You know they'd give you the money." Suzi was always the first to break the ice. "Suzi, it's not about the money, it's about the independence." Megan's sweet, but mature voice carried her stubborn emotions with it. "What, so now, while studying for a law degree," Suzi put special emphasis on the fact it was a law degree, "you're gonna stack shelves to pay for something your father wouldn't even blink before giving you the money for?" Megan looked up from the paper, looked up to the sky as if in deep thought before returning her stare to Suzi and saying in a quick, short sentence, "Yes!" She looked back down at the jobs, turning the page as Dan took the stage. "Y'know, she's got a point, Meg. This is a law degree, it ain't media studies y'know? If you do part-time work, it's gonna affect your work, you know it is." "Well, maybe I won't work, maybe I'll just participate." Megan spoke as she was still looking at the paper, reading a section. "What?" Asked Dan. "Look." Megan turned the paper round so the other three could see what she was pointing at. /-------------------------------------\ | STUDENTS! | | Need that extra bit of cash but | | but can't afford to lose the time? | | | | You needn't worry. Volunteer to | | to take part in a harmless medical | | experiment and you'll receive up to | | £5000.* | | | | Interested? | | | | Apply at: GeneMec | | Unit 2 | | Bailer St. | | Crownedge Industry Park | | | | Apply in person ONLY! | | *Lowest amount £500 | \-------------------------------------/ "No… way, Megan!" John sounded adamant. "You could wake up tomorrow with zit's the size of baseballs all over your body, and personally, I don't think that would look nice, not even on you." "C'mon, it won't be anything dangerous. And besides, it's £5000 easy money," replied Megan. "Huh! Look again, that's only to tempt you, I bet you won't get a penny over £750!" Suzi was doing her home-girl impression. "It's the only way. If it sounds too dangerous, I'll bail, no-one can stop me from doing that!" But Megan's friends still looked on in astonishment, mainly because someone so beautiful would even think of being a human guinea pig, especially one so bright as Megan, surely she would know that this was a bad idea. ********** "GeneMec!" Megan had arrived, announcing her destination to herself. Her stomach feeling a bit queasy, but she was here, and a potential £5000 not far away. She walked through the heavy doors into the reception, laying down the paper on the desk. "I'm here about the volunteer work?" The receptionist looked up at Megan. "God only knows why, but, take a form," the ginger haired, rimmed- spectacled woman handed her a form and a pen, "and take a seat. Someone will be with you in a minute." Megan sat down and started filling out the form. Just the usual stuff, name, address, contact number, until the last section; 'I hereby agree that I am aware of the dangers of medical experiments, and agree that any harm that may come to me as a result of these tests is my responsibility, health insurance will not cover any/all damages, and no life insurance or other government funds will be paid out in the case of death. 'GeneMec takes no responsibility of any harm or death to subjects. 'Signed (subject) ____________________' Megan almost screwed up the paper there and then. "Ah! They're only covering their arse." She signed the form and handed the form back to the receptionist. Almost at that instant a gentleman with a long white coat came through a door at the reception, presenting himself to Megan. "Hello, I'm Dr. Mann." "Megan." "Pleased to meet you Megan. Sorry to have to ask but, have you completed the paperwork?" "Err, yes, all done, you can kill me now." Megan's attempt at humour in the tense situation she had just found herself fell flat. "Don't worry Miss…" "Kale." "…Miss Kale. I'm researching a more effective cure for hay fever, a sneeze is the worst you'll experience." At the doctor's words, Megan sighed a big sigh of relief, not even realising she'd been holding her breath. "And also, have you had any prescribed medication within the last six months?" "No." Replied Megan. "Right, if you'd follow me then please. I must inform you now that because it's not dangerous, you will only receive £800." The doctor said as he walked Megan through the doors and into his laboratory. He continued as he started to set up a syringe, "Now, I'm just going to inject you with a pollen compound, even if you don't suffer from hay fever, you will now." He jabbed the needle into Megan's arm, she jumped a little. "And now for the cure." He jabbed a different needle in the other arm. Megan was more prepared for it this time. "Right, all done. See, didn't even hurt," the doctor said with a sympathetic smile. He went over to his filing cabinet and retrieved a form. Handing it to Megan he said, "I'll need you to fill this in once a night, all the instructions are there, and then if you drop in next week, say Wednesday, I'll take a blood sample and the form, and that'll be that. Okay?" "Yeah, fine." "Okay, if you want to make your way past reception and Sheila will give you your cheque." "Thanks, Dr. Mann." "No, thank-you." ********** "Eight hundred pound. For five minutes. Sorted!" Megan sat in her room, talking to herself about the money that will now pay half her fee's. "Just need more!" The next day she walked past GeneMec, taking particular interest in the receptionist, and upon seeing it wasn't Sheila, she walked in. "Hi. I was wondering, do you have a list of when subjects are needed?" Megan asked the new brunette receptionist. "Not really, I'm afraid. Mainly because it's all the time." Replied the receptionist. "Oh, it's just that my friend recommended this place to me, but said try to avoid this doctor because his injections hurt." "Which one?" Asked the receptionist. "Oh, err, what was it, Dr. Main? Dr. Malin?" "Dr. Mann?" "That's it, yeah. I need the money, see, but I'd like to avoid him if I can?" The receptionist smiled, "I'll see what I can do." Over the next two weeks, Megan visited GeneMec five times. Three of which she'd been able to volunteer for testing. She now had hay fever, seven different strands of the flu (in one jab), measles, the so-called cures for all these ailments, and close to two and a half grand in the bank. Aside from the odd sneeze here and there, she felt fine, the cures seemed to be working. "That's the fee's covered. Now I just need a little to live off." Megan had already decided she needed one more visit and in no time she was walking back through the large glass doors of GeneMec. "Hello." Megan said. Sheila was on today. "Megan, you were here only last week, we told you you have to wait at least six months before returning, it's for your own safety." "I am safe. Look, there's nothing wrong with me, all the cures work, there's no side effects. Come on, I just need one more cheque. Just send me to Dr. Mann again, he only deals with hay fever, not much can go wrong with that can it?" "I'd of thought Dr. Mann would prefer a fresh subject, but I'll see what he says. Take a seat." With that Sheila got up and walked through the door to Dr. Mann's lab. What must have only been a few seconds later the door opened again, but someone else stepped through, someone Megan hadn't seen before, and without looking if the receptionist was even there he started talking to her empty seat. "Do I have a subject yet Sheila?" There was no answer and as he walked toward the desk he looked up. "Oh. Where have you…" he turned to look around the room, spotting Megan on the verge of sitting down. "Ah! You must be the subject." The new man said with enthusiasm. "Err, is it a lot?" Megan asked, nervously. "It's not dangerous, if that's what you're thinking, but the management have decided it deserves the volunteer £2000." "Yep, I'm the one." Said Megan, quickly. She followed the man through the door, narrowly missing a sorry looking Sheila. "I'm Dr. Harnull. Sorry, but it's the rules I gotta ask this, have you received any medication within the last six months?" "Err, no. No, not at all." "Good. Then if you'd like to perch yourself on the bed there and we'll begin." Dr. Harnull prepared a syringe, a big one Megan couldn't help but notice. "Now, I'm afraid this has to go into the neck, so it works it's way through the body quicker." "What's it for?" Megan asked. "Well, I'm working on a serum which will enhance the body's healing ability. It's harmless and already in one of it's final stages. Just don't take any medication for the next month or two." "Why, what would happen?" "Well, that's the thing, I don't know what would happen," the doctor plunged the needle into Megan's neck, she jumped a little but it was over within seconds. The doctor continued, "but there are a couple of volatile chemicals in this prototype which won't be in the final product. I'm only using them to aid keeping track of the progress. As long as you don't have any medication or had any, which you haven't, then there's no problem!" "Yeah." Said Megan with a fake smile. ********** It was eleven at night, Megan had laid on her bed since getting back from GeneMec, at around six. She felt no different, but was worried at the thought that for two thousand pounds, she may have voluntarily mixed volatile chemicals together, in her own body. But five hours had now passed, and she felt no different. She sat up, and made her way down to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, she grabbed the milk carton, she'd had no liquids all day and was gasping for something to quench her thirst. Opening the top, she didn't even notice the smell of sour milk as she immediately held it to her mouth and drank three gulps. Her eyes opened wide, she threw the carton in the sink and spat out the last mouthful. She heaved a couple of times but nothing came out. She could feel the cold milk, lumpy as it was, travel down her throat and reach her stomach. She rushed upstairs and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Grasping the sides of the toilet, knelt on the floor, she was expecting to vomit any minute, but it never came. Instead she all of a sudden felt a lot better. Standing up, she looked down curiously at her slim, tight belly, as if to say "why don't you hurt?" She unlocked the door and walked into her room and sat on her bed, still in thought. "Maybe it's that super healing stuff. He never did say what it would heal," she said to herself. The house was quiet, it should've been quieter, Megan should've been out with the other three, but she stayed back, awaiting what she thought was the inevitable. She stood up to open the window. Wham. Like a hot spear was thrust through her stomach, Megan clutched at her belly. Falling to the carpeted floor, she assumed a foetal position. She stayed like it for several minutes, shaking and shivering, a cold sweat breaking out, and then all of a sudden she stretched out into a star shape, letting out a little painful groan. Still shivering, Megan started to feel her clothes getting tight. Her cropped T-shirt began to stretch, clinging to her body, finding all the crevices. Her jeans slackened at the waist, but her thighs felt constrained. She turned her head and looked at her right arm, shocked at what she sees. Her arm was bigger than she knew it to be. She suddenly convulsed, her body becoming taught. It was as if every muscle in her body had cramp, not only could she not move, the pain was so unbearable she couldn't scream. Her body relaxed, and although the pain lessened, she still ached everywhere. She grabbed the bed and pulled herself up, managing to stand up. Turning, she faced the mirror. If it wasn't for her beautiful face, which remained unchanged, she wouldn't have recognised herself. Her body, still shivering, had changed enormously. Her arms were muscular, stretching the fabric of her T-shirt. Her modest, pert round breasts remained the same, but were pushed out on two mounds of pectoral muscle, stretching the T-shirt to near ripping point. Her jeans slid down a little, the waist band catching on her thighs, her red thong the only thing that wasn't stretched. As she stood there, another cold sweat came over her, and her body convulsed again. Barely able to remain standing, she saw with her own eyes her reflection changing. She heard ripping sounds as the shoulder seams of her T-shirt ripped apart, exposing bulging muscle. Seconds later a hole appeared in her T-shirt between her breasts, it got bigger as the fabric ripped apart, her jeans slid down a little more, but her thighs packed the entirety of the upper leg, and a few seconds later her jeans began to tear down each seam of each leg. Without relaxing, her body convulsed even more, the pain greater as she found her voice and screamed. No longer able to stand she hit the floor with a thud, but the pain of impact was unnoticeable. All she could feel was red-hot pain in every muscle in her body. All she could hear was ripping and tearing. All she could taste was sweat. ********** Megan had been breathing heavily for a few minutes now, waiting for the next convulsion. But it never came. Staring at the ceiling, she decided it was time she got up and see what had happened to her. She grabbed the bed with her left hand, already she couldn't help but notice the hugeness of her arm out of the corner of her eye. She pulled herself up, and stood up straight, head drooping. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head and looked at the mirror. Her beautiful, model perfect head sat now on what appeared to be a relatively elegant neck. But the neck was now part of a larger structure. Huge, bulging shoulders were now either side of her neck. Attached to them were two, impossibly large arms. Megan lifted her right arm, palm facing the sky. When it was out straight, she slowly flexed it, bending her arm at the elbow. Her bicep grew and grew until it was the size of what must be a football, and was so big it was stopping her from bending her arm any further. Her lower arm was big too, keeping in proportion with her upper arm. She continued to examine the rest of her body as she let her arm drop naturally. Her breasts, like perfect half-spheres, seemed small now they rested on huge, ripped pecs. They were uncovered, what remains of her T-shirt hanging from each shoulder. Below her breasts was impossibly defined abs. Packed into the waistline she'd never seen as small. Her thong still covered the important bit, but her jeans were all over the place. The waistband rested round the top of her thighs, while her thighs, each easily bigger than her waist, had completely annihilated the upper legs of her jeans. Fragments of the jeans remained around the knees, but then her calves had severed the denim link between the knees and the ankles. Megan could tell from where she stood in relation to the mirror that she had grown no taller. She walked, dumbfounded, into the bathroom. She used her foot, still with trainer on (at least thy didn't grow) to pull out the scales. Stepping on them, the needle went straight round the dial before being stopped by the safety pin. "Great. I'm over 250 pounds." She got off the scales and went downstairs, passing John's room en route to the kitchen. She stopped, stepped back and peered through John's door which was ajar. She opened the door and switched on the light, there was his free weights. His dumbbells lay there, thirty pounds on each. Megan remembered trying to lift one whilst a bit inebriated. She managed it only when using both hands. She bent down, not even realising she did so without bending her knees, and grasped the dumbbell. Expecting to be met with great resistance she took a deep breath and lifted. She almost fell back as she lifted the weight into the air. She put the dumbbell down and loaded all the weights she could find on to it. They equalled sixty pounds. Megan took the strain, and lifted. Again, it was too easy. Amazed, she put the dumbbell down and unloaded the weights, loading them all onto the barbell. Along with them, she loaded on all the weights she could find, biggest first going down to smallest. She put on the stoppers and counted up the weight; two hundred pounds. She bent down, bending at the knees and grasped the bar with both hands. Standing up, she lifted the bar with her. With the bar still held at waist level, she turned to the mirror. Her new body flexed with power as she held the two hundred pounds before her. She shifted her hands, slowly moving both hands to the centre of the bar, which began to bend as one hundred pounds on each end started to take it's toll. Carefully, she removed her left hand from the bar, it now suspending from Megan's right hand. As she stared in the mirror, she took a little breath and flexed her right arm. Her bicep grew and grew, a cable of vein appearing right down the centre of it. She began to curl the barbell with her right arm. She heard a rip as some more of her already perished T- shirt tore apart. In the mirror, she watched as the two hundred pound barbell was lifted by a body she didn't recognise. But she could feel it, and still her muscles ached. Even so, she was still able to lift the two hundred pound weight, though with a little difficulty. Megan curled the barbell, her entire body exploding with muscles. Each defined to impossible extent. She continued the curl and began to lift it over her head, her obliques now bulging out of her side, her abs bulging out of their waistline. As she stood there, holding a two hundred pound barbell above her with one hand, veins the size of cables covering her entire upper body, she no longer felt disgusted. She was turned on. ========================================================================== ©RipTite 2003 Comments: RipTite@HotPop.com