Priscilla left the room to ‘freshen up’, leaving me with a monumental case of blue balls. Not that I was complaining. Every second of her short but seductive ride was etched in memory. In an effort to calm down I pulled up the AR display on my glasses and navigated to the research Priscilla had sent over. Fortunately, the project synopsis was very informative. It read:

The purpose of the Atlas Rising Project is to reset select cells to an adolescent state through molecular biological recombination. It is understood that cells in an adolescent state are more susceptible to genetic manipulation and better able to manage primary, secondary, and tertiary functions in the host organism. 

Were they trying to turn back the clock? If cells could be fully regressed to a previous state it could mean a cure for a hundred different diseases! It could mean reversing the ageing process! This technology would open so many doors it made me dizzy just trying imagine them all. Then it hit me; they had failed. The project must have been scrapped or there was no way they would have let this document within a hundred miles of an undergrad like me. Then again, hadn’t Priscilla said something about them finding ‘some success’? 

My phone buzzed. It was a text from Britta that read: 

[hey mind giving me access to source for Vital-Stat? ]

[you code?] I keyed back.

My phone buzzed again. 

[no I just want to leak your source- of course I code dork]

One more quality to like about Britta. I replied with the uncompiled source from my phone. I had just started reading through the report again when Priscilla’s voice interrupted.

“Find anything interesting?”

I looked up to see her smiling at me. “You didn’t just stumble across this research in an afternoon,” I said accusingly.

Her smile didn’t falter and she replied, “I’ve had an interest in the topic for quite some time. You might say it’s a family tradition.”

“Is that how you got a hold of this? Was someone in your family on the research team?” As soon as I said it I realized that had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense.

“Something like that,” she said coyly. 

Well let her be coy, I thought. Finding out who she was related to on the research team would be simple enough later, for now my curiosity was sated. “Well, thank whoever it was for me,” I said, and my attention was drawn to a bottle of champagne Priscilla hoisted up. “What are we celebrating?”

“Aww,” she pouted sexily, “You haven’t got to the good part or you would know.”

I cocked an eyebrow at her. “The good part?”

“Flip to page 740, second paragraph up from the bottom.”

What the hell, I thought, does she know this whole thing by heart? I guess if I had access to research of this caliber I would probably know it by heart too. In fact, I was planning on it. I flipped to page 740 and saw it contained various test results. Each paragraph was prefixed by a number that I assumed corresponded to a specific test run. The second paragraph from the bottom read:

tf-362: Original samples yielded interesting results and the test was cleared for animal trials. While not effective in all cellular targets some cells were regressed as much as four years. The most impressive results were seen in Chimpanzee young adults: subjects experienced a complete hormonal growth and maturation cycle consistent with adolescence.

I read the last sentence again, just to be sure I was understanding it. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking.” Priscilla said; probably noting the disbelief painted on my face. “They were able to manufacture a second puberty in a living organism.”

“That’s… incredible,” I said, feeling lightheaded. “This is…” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. 

“Follow me,” Priscilla said, turning. “There’s something I want to show you.”

She lead me through a couple hallways and down a few flights of stairs. I was barely paying attention. I couldn’t stop reading the last line of the report. It was the missing link to my life’s greatest ambition. My science submission had been a way to ensure plants and other simple organisms reached their max genetic potential during their developmental period. For plants, which by and large were always growing, this was quite simple. For humans it was another matter entirely. But with this… I was unbelievably closer to achieving my dream of genetic perfection. I was so caught up that I nearly bumped into Priscilla.

She was stopped in front of a pair of sliding glass doors like the kind typically seen in supermarkets. What lay behind them, however, was far more interesting than a supermarket. The white tiled floor was filled with tables bristling with pristine glass beakers, shiny black plastic gadgets, and more pieces of equipment than I had names for. 

“Welcome to Phi Kappa Fum’s research facility,” Priscilla said, swiping a security card. The doors opened soundlessly and we stepped inside. 

“Wow,” I said. Trying to stop myself from jumping up and down with excitement like a gigantic nerd. “I’m amazed a sorority has this kind of equipment.” 

“Only the best,” Priscilla said as she adjusted her top, drawing attention to the only two things that could steal my attention away from a cutting edge laboratory. Her boobs jiggled hypnotically above the tight fabric. “Anything in particular you want to check out first?” 

My eyes snapped up, certain I’d been caught ogling her chest. If so her expression gave no sign. “No- I uhh. Is it okay if I install software on one of the PCs in here?”

Something suspiciously like disappointment flashed across Priscilla’s face but I couldn’t be sure because she smiled immediately after and said, “Of course, you’re free to use whatever you want as my guest.”

“Great, thanks.” I sat down plugged my phone into a computer, quickly dragging Vital-Stat and a couple other apps onto its hard drive. My phone buzzed and I snuck a glance at it. 

A new message from Britta read: 

[as I thought you aren’t tracking any psychological disorders associated with genetics... I’m fixing that for you ]. 

I smiled, reminding myself to thank her later.

I looked back at Priscilla. She was pouring champagne into a couple of tall slender beakers. When they were full of the bubbling effervescent liquid she sashayed over with a beaker in each hand, hips swaying sexily. “You still haven’t told me what we’re celebrating,” I said.

“Hmm? Getting access to groundbreaking research isn’t enough for you?” Priscilla said with mock surprise.

“No I mean- yes- I mean, thank you. It’s great for me… I’m just not sure what you get out of it.”

Priscilla laughed; a sweet sound, girlish and light. She leaned towards me and set our drinks down on the desk behind me. I became acutely aware of her bust pressed up against my arm. With her face only inches from mine she breathed, “I get you, silly.”

My penis stiffened and I said in an unsteady voice, “Me?” 

“If you’re interested.” Her breath was warm on my ear.

“Y-yes, o-of course,” I said, no longer certain we were still talking about science. 

A hand caressed my thigh. “Interested in making me taller?”. Another hand rested on my shoulder and squeezed. The warm curves of her body pressed softly against me as she pulled herself closer. 

“Yes,” I panted. 

Her exposed cleavage pressed against my chest. “Making me bigger?”

My head reeled as blood rushed to my genitals. “Yes,” I whispered hoarsely. 

She straddled my lap and whispered into my ear, “Make me grow, ” she said, her tone suddenly becoming more commanding. “bigger!” Her hands were all over me, drawing electricity from my body wherever they touched. “And bigger!” Her fingers clutched my arms with surprising strength. “And BIGGER!” Every time she said ‘bigger’ she climbed higher into my lap until her ample breasts heaved tantalizing inches from my face. Unable to speak I could only nod. I badly wanted to see her grow. To watch her expand larger and larger. To witness her become the goddess that Vital-Stat had told me she could -no- was destined to be. “Tell me you want it,” she commanded. The unmistakable musk of her arousal assaulted me, battering away whatever inhibitions I had left.

“I want it,” I mumbled.

“Tell me what you want,” she breathed huskily.

“I-want-you-to-get-bigger,” I said in a rush.

“Yes,” she gasped passionately, her legs contracting powerfully for a brief moment.

Emboldened I continued, “I want to make you huge.”

“Oh Dylan, yes,” she purred and dropped her shapely bottom onto my thigh. Her eyes bright with arousal, she began to grind against me. 

“Make…” I said. Her gyrating pelvis grazed the tip of my penis making every word a herculean effort. “You…” Her hands clutched her oversized breasts, causing them to swell over her bodice. “Perrrrrrrrrfffect!” I exclaimed, spraying cum into my pants. Still not satisfied she continued to grind against me faster and faster. Her breasts jumped wildly beneath her hands with every thrust. A steady moan began deep in her throat and began to rise higher and higher in pitch until it broke into a scream “AAAAIIIIIIIIIEYEEEESSSSSS!” She came. Priscilla rocked steadily against my thigh more slower and slower, in the wake of orgasm. When it was over she slumped against me and we both sat panting for a few long moments. 

Eventually, we separated.

“That was the best thing... ever,” I said, no longer caring about playing it cool. 

Priscilla tittered delicately behind her hand, somehow instantly reclaiming her regal bearing in the aftermath of that wanton display. Then she leaned forward and gave me a peck on the cheek. Looking demurely away she said, “I enjoyed it as well.” 

I savored the moment for a long while before speaking again. “Did you really mean what you said before?” I asked eventually, unable to restrain my curiosity.

“About what?”

“Wanting to get bigger.”

Priscilla shrugged and said, “Of course, who wouldn’t want to be the best version of themselves?” 

I had no answer for that. “What makes you think I can help?”

She revealed a mischievous smirk, “Well, you did win second place at Nationals with your science submission.”

“You looked into me!” I exclaimed without any real anger. I was actually a bit thrilled she knew about my work.

“Just enough to know we have similar interests.”

“You mean genetic perfection?”

“Lets call it: reaching our potential.”

“Ok, and what makes you think I can make you reach yours? You know I’ve only had success with plants, right?”

“Have you done any human testing?” she asked nonchalantly.

“Well... no,” I admitted. Human tests had to be approved and there was no way anyone was letting a high school student run human trials. I imagined a first semester college student wouldn’t fare much better. “There is all kinds of red tape. Even if I had a formula ready, which I don’t, it would still take years to get approval.”

“How long would it take you to make a formula?”

In theory I knew all of the genetic markers that needed to be targeted because they were the same markers that I used to generate data for Vital-Stat. However, creating the necessary genetic samples for splicing would take much longer, unless.... I looked around at the high-tech lab. Maybe with this equipment the time could be reduced significantly. I ran some quick mental calculations. Days? Hours maybe? “I don’t know,” I said finally. “I’ve never used equipment like this. Maybe I could throw something together quickly.”

“Tonight?” The excitement in Priscilla’s voice was palpable.

“Maybe,” I said begrudgingly.

Her grin in response was cheshire. “Why don’t you get started then. And I’ll go get ready for round two.” 

“Round two?” I said absently, still running mental math on formula specifics.

A hand gripped my thigh. “Maybe with less clothes.” Priscilla’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

My eyes widened as I took her meaning. “Right,” I said eagerly. “Round two is good.”

“I’ll be right back,” she said and quickly left the room. The doors closed soundlessly behind her.

I had a feeling that quality of the night’s proceedings very much depended on me having a formula to give her. With that in mind, I got to work figuring out what all the nifty metal arms and black plastic gadgets did..

Time passed and I began to get the hang of the lab. Everything I needed and more was there; machines to batch samples and perform other menial tasks while robotic arms managed the materials work with precision (handling glass with speed that was equal parts alarming and impressive). This left me in front of a computer orchestrating the proceedings like the sorcerer’s apprentice. Before long I had nearly half the lab running some task or another mechanical arms whirring, mixers churning, and everywhere the clink of glass and hum of electronics. At some point my phone buzzed with another message from Britta.

[I got everything loaded in and gonna re-run your last three samples]

I stopped typing furiously long enough to quickly text back, “sounds good”. Then went back to work, losing all sense of time as the orchestra of equipment built towards a crescendo

“Impressive.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the unexpected voice. Priscilla had slipped in without a sound. I looked away from the screen long enough to see she looked the same as she had earlier except that her hair was pinned up with oriental chopstick looking things. I turned back to my work and said, “It’s nearly finished.”

“Already?” Priscilla sounded impressed.

“This is a nice lab,” I said distractedly, absorbed in my work.

“Nicer with you here.” 

I smiled but didn’t reply- focused on completing the final portion of the formula. A dozen keystrokes later and I triumphantly settled my hands on either side of the keyboard. “It’s done,” I declared. Priscilla looked around at the machines still busily carrying out my instructions and I clarified, “The formula will take another minute or so to process, but I think its good enough to submit for a trial.”

Priscilla appeared thoughtful, “Have you thought about what you’re going to call it?”

I hadn’t. I started with the first words that sprang to mind, “Genetic… uhhh… transformation… formula?”

“How about Serum?” Priscilla suggested. “Genetic Transformation Serum.”

“GTS, huh?” I said, sampling the acronym. “Hmm... I think I like it. Gee-Tee-Ess. Its got a nice ring to it.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “It certainly does.”

“So what’s all this about fast-tracking human trials?” I said as casually as possible. “I’ll admit I never would have dreamed I’d see research like what you sent me earlier tonight, but that is one thing. Human trials are another entirely.” Even as I said this I knew I wanted her to prove me wrong.

“You let me worry about the human trials. Which one of these machines has the formula?”

“The one right behind me,” I said, jerking a thumb over my shoulder.

“Oh,” she said. “I think its done.”

I turned and saw that she was right, the serum had been completely and exquisitely prepared by my legion of robotic assistants. “There is enough in there to last for a month or more. I wanted to make sure the batch was large enough for multiple samples- in case we have to send it out to multiple labs.”

“Why would we do that?” Priscilla asked, her back turned to me as she approached the serum. 

“Because… we want them agree to trials?” I said, dubiously stating the obvious.

“I agree,” she said, her voice distant.

“To what?” I said tentatively. Her behavior was beginning to make me a little nervous. 

“I’m a human,” she said and turned to face me. A large beaker filled with the syrupy red fruits of my labor was clasped between her hands. “Let’s give it a trial.”

“What?” I said nervously, “You can’t do that. I mean- even if you did it wouldn’t do anything. To your body that is just a bottle of enzymes and proteins without the proper cells to bond to.” 

“Unless I’ve already undergone cellular regression.” Priscilla said.

“That- That’s not… When? How?”

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, Dylan.” Priscilla eyes were far-away.

“No! Priscilla please. Think about what you’re doing. You could get hurt. We could get expelled.” I was panicking now. I started to move forward to take the serum away from her.

Before I could take a single step Priscilla brought the bottle to her lips and drank.

“No!” I shouted, lunging at her. She side-stepped easily and I hit my head against the desk. The ground came up fast and hard against my knees as I went down, groaning. “What have you done,” I groaned.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and Priscilla said, “Oh it tastes awful.”

My head ached terribly. “What have you done.” I repeated dully.

“When will it start? How long before I can grow.” I laughed. “Tell me!” she demanded.

I laughed harder, nearing hysterics. “Its a puberty! It takes months… years even.”

“That’s not fast enough.” Priscilla said, stomping her foot childishly. The sound of chugging filled my ears and I looked up to see her swallowing gulp after gulp of the formula.

“NO!” I shouted and lunged again. This time I was successful in knocking it away. The serum went spinning through the air, sending syrupy globs of liquid in arc’ing trails over tables, chairs, and electronics. The beaker shattered against the floor.

“You-” Priscilla started to say something angrily but doubled over in pain. “Oh god I -FEEL- it.”

“That’s not how it works!” I yelled. “The formula bonds to individual cells and forces them to replicate the optimum version of themselves. It doesn’t speed the replication itself!”

“It’s working!” Priscilla exclaimed, her voiced brimming with excitement.

“It’s not-” My jaw dropped. It was working. Slowly, almost imperceptibly Priscilla was beginning to grow. Priscilla’s legs lengthened, drawing her skirt higher and higher up her swelling thighs. Her bodice popped, making room for her expanding chest. Her breasts surged upward like bread dough rising from her suddenly overly tight top. She kicked off her shoes as her feet expanded, toes poking holes in her stockings. Stockings that were beginning to tear all up and down her legs. 

Then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. I was too stunned to speak. My phone buzzed. Numbly, I checked it and saw yet another text from Britta.

[so it turns out someone has a serious case of hypersexuality... and it ain’t me]

I looked at the heaving bust of my hostess, her face flushed with excitement- one hand already snaking down between her legs, and said:

“Oh for fuck’s sake.”