The Study (Patreon)

Note: This is a story-prompt for Heathen.

Prompt Directory

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Nora stumbled off the treadmill, gripping the handrail for support as she gasped for breath.

The machine turned off automatically once the sensors registered her absence. “Exercise registered. Feedback sent,” chirped the automated voice.

Nora glanced at her watch to see that she had only lasted twenty minutes on the machine. She shook her head in disgust with herself. Only a few months ago, she could have jogged for hours at one time without issue.

Wiping some sweat off her forehead, Nora left her small home gym and made her way into her bathroom.

Though Nora was only twenty-four, she had won many competitions throughout her impressive athletic career. Her body had always been slim and muscular, without a hint of fat.

Things had started changing when she had signed up for a selective hormonal study, enticed by the promise of it legally boosting her performance.

But within a few weeks, Nora had started putting on weight. At first she had written it off as her body adjusting, or even muscle growth, but as weeks turned to months, Nora had realized that something strange was going on. She had dug up the contracts, reviewing every word. What she found shocked her. The study was actually to enhance her fertility performance.

Nora stepped onto the bathroom scale. She had to “weigh in” every morning and evening. The scale beeped. “152 pounds. Feedback sent,” chirped the automated voice.

Nora flinched. Two pounds since yesterday!? she thought in disbelief. It was the biggest leap in one day.

She usually tried to tone out the scale feedback, or even wear headphones to avoid the distressing reality of her increasing weight. She had been 130 pounds only a few months earlier, but had somehow put on over 20 pounds with few changes to her routine.

Things are really starting to really ramp up, she thought in dread. Nora went to her bathroom mirror, the edges gleaming unnaturally, and she knew that it was recording her. She was being constant monitored to ensure that she was complying with the program.

The more weight she gained, the more her athleticism declined. During her last competition, Nora had placed in last place for the first time in her life. She hadn’t even been able to qualify for a popular weightlifting tournament the other day, even though she had won it last year.

Nora studied her reflection. Gone was her lean, muscled body. Most of the weight she had gained had gone to specific places. Her formerly flat chest was now adorned with a pair of round E-cup breasts that were presently stretching out the athletic tank top she had on. Her nipples were swollen unnaturally and bulging prominently against the material. Breathing heavily, she looked at her exposed midriff, her abs replaced with a soft but smooth stomach. Her hips had rounded, her backside had become quite plump, now sticking out behind her. Nora felt perpetually warm and mildly horny at all times. Even at that moment, she had to consciously refrain from touching herself. She had been up half the night and was, frankly, exhausted.

Nora opened her medicine cabinet and pulled out the pills she was contractually obligated to consume daily. She popped two into her mouth and gulped them down, before replacing the bottle in the cabinet. Her eyelids fluttered as a strange tingling sensation ran through her breasts then down her groin. Taking a shuddering breath, Nora closed the cabinet and left the room. She absently tugged at the too-tight athletic top as she made her way to the kitchen.

She felt a little breathless, panting, as she opened the fridge. She lifted a quart-sized jug from the top shelf. The fluid resembled milk, but was actually some sort of protein shake that she was tasked with consuming. At first the chemical aftertaste had disgusted her, but Nora had soon grown used to the substance. Sometimes she even craved it.

She drank directly from the jug, thirstily chugging until she was sated. She placed the remainder of the jug back onto its holder in the fridge, the console beeping. “17 ounces consumed,” said the automated voice.

Nora closed the fridge and wiped her mouth, her belly gurgling as though in appreciation. Her watch buzzed and she glanced at it. Overhead a voice spoke the words flashing there. “It’s time for your appointment.”

Nora went to her study and sat at her computer, the screen turning on automatically. A woman in a white lab coat appeared, her eyes observant behind her rectangular glasses. “Good morning, Nora.”

“Hi,” said Nora stiffly.

Nora tried not to fidget as metal straps emerged from the chair, sliding around her stomach, hips, thighs, and chest. But rather than binding her there, they retracted again. Just taking her measurements, as they did every day.

“We are quite pleased with your progress,” said the woman on the screen. Her name was Dr. Nolan but she often invited Nora to call her Lily. “Your body has adjusted faultlessly to the treatments.”

Nora’s chair automatically tilted and swung, as though to display her every angle to the camera for Dr. Nolan. Nora clenched her jaw and tolerated it.

“There will be a new shipment coming through soon. I will have it added to your calendar.”

“How long will this go on?” Nora couldn’t help demanding.

Dr. Nolan paused, frowning at her. “As long as necessary.”

It was always the response.

-

That afternoon, Nora did some work on her personal laptop.

There was a beeping noise ahead. “Relaxation time,” the automated voice declared.

Nora rolled her eyes, but dutifully got up and went to sit in the armchair in her living room. She took the headphones out of the compartment on the arm of the chair, and plugged them into her ears. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

“You are a beautiful, voluptuous woman,” a soothing voice murmured in her ears. “You are fertile. Primed and ready. Your breasts will feed. Your hips will birth. You want it. Your body needs it. You will grow, you will nurture…” The voice went on and on with such nonsense as Nora’s loins throbbed and her nipples ached. Her breasts felt tingly and heavy, and she couldn’t help cupping the pulsing heat there, groaning and breathing, her shirt straining harder against her, as her hips twitched and the voice went on... “You want to be full. Packed to bursting…” Eventually Nora dozed off.