The Megan Kale Project – Part 1
By RipTite
Unable to afford student life, Megan sells her body to medical science.
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WARNING: Adult content!
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£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.
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©RipTite 2003
Comments: RipTite@HotPop.com