There always was a security guard in the corridor that led to the cleanroom. His face ringed a bell; Dr. Rachel Reed was sure that she had talked to him before, but she could not remember when. It was not as if she cared. Her fellow researchers were uninteresting enough, and the jarhead was several notches lower in her consideration scale.
The security guards at Deadwater were made of a different breed, the same way that the projects at the secret research facility were done at a different scale. It did not make a difference to Rachel. No grunt, no matter how fit or well trained he was, was going to get in her way.
The soldier stood at attention when he saw her coming. Rachel knew this was a moment of truth, one of the many she had had in the previous weeks. She resolved it the way she always took care of stuff. Raising her head and fixing her stare on the young man, she scowled and kept going, as if she were doing something too important to be bothered. She could see the hesitation in the guard’s face. The moment came and went, and he gave up. Rachel hid the mild arousal that her little act of dominance caused in her as he passed by the taller man with not much more than a nod to acknowledge his presence and kept moving down the aisle. The big prize was waiting for her there.
Her sixth sense told her that the man was staring at her ass. They always did. Rachel just kept on ignoring him as her fast-paced steps brought her closer to the object of her desire. She got there twenty seconds later. Her hand had a steady grip on her ID card despite feeling nervous for the first time in years. She swiped it in front of the sensor and… there was a red light and two quick beeps denying her access.
“Fuck!” she muttered to herself as she swiped the card again. Another red.
She tried it for the third time but was no luckier than in the previous two attempts. Rachel was getting frustrated. She had been in the cleanroom only four days before. What the hell was going on?
Anger and despair fought a battle in Rachel’s famously short-tempered mind as she absentmindedly swiped the card a fourth time. It did not change the results of the previous three attempts, but it served as a prelude for the guard’s arrival.
“Dr. Reed,” she said softly.
Rachel ignored him and swiped the card a fifth time, getting the same crimson color and the same quick succession of two beeps.
“Dr. Reed, please,” the young man insisted.
Rachel moved to try a new swipe of the card. Her arm was intercepted mid-air by a rough hand. She responded instinctively, turning and using her free arm to hit the man in his broad chest. He barely reacted, adding to her frustration. Rachel was a fit woman, using her little spare time to push herself to her limits in the gym, but the young military policeman had a head and a hundred pounds on her.
He seemed to disregard her attempted assault, which was good news when it came to practical consequences but frustrated her dominant ego.
“Dr. Reed, access codes were changed on Sunday,” he informed.
“I am the lead researcher!” she protested, her voice reverberating in the confined corridor.
“I’m afraid you will need to check with Dr. Sanders,” the soldier said.
Damned Curtis! Was he always going to get in her way? One of the only silver linings of the project’s cancellation was that she would not need to see the man’s smug face every day!
“Oh, you can be sure I will!” Rachel replied, shaking her arm off the man’s grasp.
And then, she started stomping back in the way she had come from, her heeled shoes clanging on the polished marble floor as she did.
It had not always been like this with Curtis. There had been a time where she had even admired the man. Rachel could still remember his first words three years back when she had been a rising star in the academic biochemistry world, and he had called to recruit her:
“Do you want to get rich making anti-aging treatments, or would you rather change the course of history?”
He had seduced her enough to reject seven-figure offers and sign the most extended confidentiality agreement she had ever seen to work for the government. He had kept on seducing her once she joined the team, getting her in his bed soon enough. Rachel had never minded him being married. What had made her break their relationship was the realization, a year later, of his professional ineptitude.
Curtis’ helplessness went much further than his apparent lack of ability to get any progress done. It also had to do with the way he built and organized teams. Accepting that she had been selected for skills other than her scientific abilities was humiliating. Still, it was the only possible conclusion once Rachel got to know the rest of the project team better. Filled with pompous but utterly incapable men Curtis had met over his career, they had not managed to accomplish anything of value despite the endless resources the Department of Defense had put at their disposal.
She had considered resigning more than once. She had also had to fight the temptation just to blend in and wait for the project to die. Her pride had stopped her from doing both things. Instead, Rachel had gradually done more of the heavy lifting, pushing the project forward at the cost of her personal life. She rarely worked less than a hundred hours a week. It was the only way.
This was probably the reason the news of the cancellation had been such a blow to her. She had never understood the politics at Deadwater. She had never been interested. Being Curtis’ only real skill, she had been happy to let him deal with the brass. So, when the hammer fell, Rachel was utterly unprepared.
She told herself it could not be. As the country’s leading expert in regenerative biology, it was apparent to her that they were finally getting somewhere. How could they not see? Were they really going to dump three years worth of work like that?
Denial was promptly followed by anger. She had always had a short temper, and the situation did not do anything to smoothen her temperament. There was no one Rachel did not yell at. Curtis took the worst of it. The fact that he seemed to be unaffected by the news made her even madder. She did not stop at him, though.
In hindsight, insulting the General had not been a good idea. By the time Rachel’s head became cold enough to devise an alternative to the inevitable cancellation, General Whitley was not in the mood to listen to her anymore. Her proposal was sound. She had found a way to go on with their research at one-tenth of their current cost. She could promise results in six months. It was a no-brainer. It turned out no one with authority was interested in listening to her. They did not like her. It was her life’s story.
She had been toying with depression for a month. The only thing that had kept Rachel from falling into it was the slight hope that she would manage to find a way to turn things around during the three months the brass had given them to dismantle their work in an orderly manner. The hardest part had been to keep her poker face and look as if she were simply trying to shut things down in a systematic way, like the rest of lemmings working for Curtis.
She had seen the light six weeks later.
Eventually, Dr. Rachel Reed had accepted that the United States Military was not interested anymore in an accelerated regeneration drug. Or, more precisely, that they did not think that they could deliver it to them, having seen no meaningful results after three years and fifteen billion dollars. She had tried showing the green sprouts in her research to them, but in the end, she also had to accept that the only person that seemed to be qualified to understand them was herself.
She was at a dead end.. Or at least, she had thought she was until she realized that she had limited herself. Because, as much as she despised her colleagues and the decision-makers at the DoD, Rachel had been following the rules. The field suddenly looked much more open once she realized she did not have to.
The seed of an idea got planted in Rachel’s mind seven weeks down the dismantling period. In the days that followed, she found no reason not to pursue it.
She had been the brains behind the project for too long, and lately, she had also put in all the work. The state-of-the-art equipment they had used up until now had been necessary for the project’s initial stages, but she was convinced she could do with more modest resources from now on. There was no rational reason she should not be able to continue her work outside of Deadwater. That was if one considered that the research facility’s management would have no problem letting her leave with the necessary samples and information.
Of course, Rachel knew the kind of answer she would get if she asked, so instead, she devoted her last five weeks at Deadwater to a slow and careful process of sneaking information out. In retrospect, the apparent ease of this stage had probably made her overconfident when it came to smuggling a concentrated dose of the serum out.
Which had led her to the present moment, where a red light and a muscular man had kept her away from her prize.
It was in this mood that she reached Curtis’ office. She walked past his assistant without even acknowledging the lowly woman and opened the director’s door with a bang.
“Do you knock?” the object of her hatred said as he moved his eyes away from his computer screen to see her coming in.
Rachel closed the door with another bang before yelling:
“You removed my access to the cleanroom!”
She wanted to rip his head off when a smirk formed on his lips.
“Rachel, when will you learn that this is not always about you?” he asked in a condescending tone she hated. “Everyone’s access got removed. The available samples will be taken for deep storage within the week.”
These were even worse news than she had expected.
“You could have let me know,” she protested.
“I was not expecting anyone to have any business at the cleanroom anymore,” he replied with his hands open wide.
He had a point there, of course. They were three weeks away from the entire thing being shut. The time for testing new samples was overdue.
Rachel’s mind was about to overheat as hundreds of thoughts fought their way through it at once. She did not need a lot of processing to understand that her carefully laid out plans were about to crumble like a house of cards. From what she had understood from Curtis, every available sample of RGX-113 was going to be removed from Deadwater at any moment. She had hours to react and no access to the last element she needed to keep with her work.
And then, the solution presented itself, even if Rachel did not immediately realize it.
Curtis’ stuck up sneer evolved into a mischievous grin as he said:
“It’s good that you’ve stopped by, though, you know? I was going to buy you a coffee later today.”
She had no clue about what was going on.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she sneered .
“I wanted to share some news with you. I signed my divorce papers yesterday evening,” he said. His smile broadened as she finished the sentence.
Rachel immediately understood the reason for his undisguised satisfaction. She had just lost her only bargaining chip. Curtis, on the other hand, kept his entire leverage over her.
Things had been at a stalemate between the two of them over the last two years. When she had put an end to their affaire, Curtis' initial reaction had been fierce, on the childish side. He had threatened to fire her more than once, but a conveniently recorded audio of his threats where he admitted their relationship had stopped him in his tracks.
Rachel had thought that that would be it until she got an e-mail from the asshole with a link. Her blood had frozen when she had clicked it to find a picture gallery of herself dressed as a dominatrix.
Rachel had never been ashamed of having done what had been needed to pay for college, but after six years, she had thought that her past would not come back to haunt her. Apparently, she had been mistaken.
Curiously enough, Curtis had not threatened to fire her anymore. There was a reason he had come across the pictures and videos that still lingered in the darkest parts of the Internet, and that reason was no other than he had a BDSM fetish. So, rather than threatening her, he had demanded her sexual attention again, only this time he had had special requests.
Rachel had seriously considered disappearing without a trace. A week later, she found herself in a hotel room, making her despicable boss’ fantasies come true. And then, she had sent him an e-mail of her own, with a link to a shared folder containing a two-hour clip of their encounter.
The precarious balance had lasted for over a year. As far as Rachel was concerned, she had expected to flip a page of her life when it came to Curtis as soon as she moved as far away from Deadwater as she could. And now, with three weeks to go, the son of a bitch was letting her know that he was not going to let her off the hook so easily.
Without the threat to give Curtis’ wife a tool to file for divorce and strip him out of his last dime, Rachel knew she was on his hands. Still, her first reaction was a proud one:
“Congratulate your wife on my behalf. I guess she’s thrilled, not having to sleep in the same bed as you.”
Curtis smirked. God, she really wanted to punch that expression off from his face.
“I guess she is happy. I know I am. Now I have enough room for someone else,” he said.
“You can forget about it,” Rachel said.
“You say it as if you had a choice,” Curtis came back.
“I do have a choice, and I choose to stay as far away from your bland, stinky body as I can,” she snapped.
“You are twenty-five, Rachel. RGX did not work out, but you have a bright future ahead of you. It would be a pity to have it shatter into pieces, don’t you think?” Curtis said.
“It’s three weeks until they shut this down. Wanna fire me? Be my guest.”
“Fire you? Who cares about Deadwater anymore? I’m talking about your career, Rachel. I know anyone who matters in our world. What do you think they would think if they saw some of the… fascinating material you recorded when you were younger? Not all of them share my taste.”
“You are a son of a bitch!” she barked.
“I am. So, you know positively that by the time I’m done with you, you will have trouble even finding a job teaching at High School. What do you think school boards would think of your excellent acting skills?”
Rachel wanted to hit him, gouge his eyes out, beat him to death. And then, something popped up at the back of her head. She had an idea. She struggled to keep the sudden excitement she felt from showing. Instead, she just worked hard to look defeated as she replied:
“You would not do that.”
Curtis straightened his back on his chair as he smiled. He looked like a General who had won a battle.
“I think you’ve got to know me well enough these last three years, don’t you?”
“You are a sick little man,” she snarled .
His smile broadened.
“And you are a smart woman.”
Rachel purposefully delayed her answer, acting confused as she kept her gaze fixed on her boss. She finally stuttered as she said:
“What do you want?”
“My house. Tonight. Bring your gear and props. The interesting stuff,” he said.
“This will be a one-off,” she said.
“That’s what you would like to believe, wouldn’t you?” the man replied with the most deviant
expression she had ever seen.
It was just past midnight when the doorbell rang. Curtis was excited as he got to the door and opened it to find Rachel at her finest. Her long auburn hair was teased and flowed freely up to mid-back. Her thick lips were painted in a fiery red, standing out even more than usual in her somewhat pale visage. The rest of her figure was covered in a long trench coat. He felt anticipation at finding out what was underneath.
“Glad you found it,” he said.
“A pity that your ex got to keep the house. I enjoyed fucking you on her side of the bed,” the younger woman said in an icy tone.
Blood immediately flowed to his genitals. He recognized a different kind of meanness in the comment. She was up to the game, it would seem.
She walked into his new apartment, making him step back and closing the door behind her. Her movement was graceful as she let the gabardine drop to reveal the attire underneath. Or the near lack of it. The high-heeled leather platform boots reached mid-thigh and were the only piece of apparel worthy of the name. The rest of her body was covered by a series of belts that were interwoven with each other, strategically enough to cover her clean-shaven crotch and push her generous breasts up. She handed him a collar. The lack of one on her own garb indicated how the roles would be split.
“You look…h..h..hot,” Curtis said, not finding any better words to describe the perfect representation of his fetish standing in front of him.
She did not reply and just walked towards him. Her right hand was soon grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards her face. Her lips closed around his in a rough kiss. And then, the kiss evolved into something else, and he felt her sharp teeth biting. He wanted to complain, but the pleasure was beating the pain. He finally freed himself from her hold when he felt her incisors break through his flesh and draw blood.
“I need to go to the office tomorrow!” he said in a halfhearted complaint.
She just reached for his shirt and ripped its buttons in a sudden pull. Long, dark red fingernails soon sunk into his cubby abs.
“You’ll have to survive me first,” Rachel said.
The following two hours were the wildest in Curtis’ life. He was beyond drained as he laid down, bonded to the head of the bed while his lead researcher sat on his face, her world-class pussy covering his nose and mouth.
“Lick, you puny worm!” she commanded.
He did his best. It was not enough, judging by the way her long bare foot pushed his loins. Rachel looked disappointed as she stood up from him and straddled his beaten body. Her picture-perfect left foot then set on his broad chest. The right soon followed, resting her weight on him, making it hard to breathe. The task got even more challenging when she brought her right foot forward and crammed her long and elegant toes into his mouth.
“Is it easier to lick like this?” she asked as she wiggled her toes.
Curtis’ anguish and bliss were rising in unison. He did not know how much longer he would be able to stand the beating, though. Rachel seemed to notice since she stepped off of his chest and turned, offering a glorious view of her rock hard ass while she moved her lovely foot towards his groin. She was not gentle as she rubbed her toes against his cock, but he could also tell that she was mindful of the pressure. Less than a minute later, he had come for the third time in the night and was panting heavily.
She seemed quite fresher as she jumped out of bed and looked at his recovering figure with some scorn.
“Done already?” she asked with disdain.
“I’ve had better,” she said with derision. “Anyway, it was not as if I had very high expectations.”
He did not know what to reply. Rachel went on:
“I’ll get you something to drink. I don’t want to be charged with manslaughter. They would probably find a motive,” she mocked as she headed to the kitchen.
“Can you untie me?” he asked as she returned with a glass of water.
Rachel did not reply and simply brought the glass to his lips. He took a generous gulp. She then sneered and raised the glass over him, tilting it and emptying the remaining liquid in his face.
“You don’t get to be free until you make me come,” she said.
He did not see how that would happen. He was more beaten than he had ever felt. And then, as he was going to let her know that it was OK to step out of the role, his eyelids started feeling heavier than he thought they could. Curtis thought he saw a look of satisfaction on Rachel’s face before the world faded to black.
Curtis was not even snoring when Rachel got back into the bedroom. This was the way the sedative she had used worked, and she had been generous with the concentrated dose. It sent the victim into a dreamless state of hibernation, one where he could not feel anything. This would be convenient for what she had in mind.
She was back into plain business clothes. No one seeing her in her formal knee-long skirt, white blouse, and comfortable pumps would ever be able to guess what she had been up to less than an hour before. Her BDSM attire was conveniently stored in a duffel bag she had grabbed at her car, as was the long trench coat she had been wearing to cover it all.
She located Curtis’ security badge quickly enough. It was now safely stored in her purse. She needed something else. She checked that he was still in a deep slumber when she placed his idle thumb in the scissors. Rachel did not hesitate as she closed them with a decisive move, chopping the finger from the rest of the hand in a single stroke. She felt a brief moment of excitement as muscle, tendon, and bone were sliced clean but forced herself to forget about her sexual stimulation and focus on the task at hand.
Blood started gushing fiercely from the wound. Rachel would have gladly let the bastard bleed to death, but after what she was about to do, the last thing she needed was a corpse added to her list of liabilities. So, she reached out for the red hot iron and placed it on the wound, cauterizing it. The stench of overcooked meat was unbearable and made Rachel gag, but she managed to go through the process without throwing up. Soon, Curtis was sleeping with one less finger, and she was stepping out of his house with one more, the man’s thumb safely stored in an small icebox.
It was not even five in the morning by the time she showed up at Deadwater. It was unusually early, but it was not the first time she started her day before the sun peeked over the horizon. Other than an arched eyebrow from the guard at the security checkpoint, she did not get any other type of attention. Rachel used her own security badge to get to the lab area.
The hour she spent working on legitimate stuff to make sure she erased any suspicions she might have raised was the toughest one yet. Images of Curtis waking up in his bed, crying for help, and reporting what had happened ran through her head. They were followed by other mental scenes of scores of military police officers flooding the lab to arrest her. Fifty minutes and two coffees later, none of her fears had come true. It was time to move to the next phase.
There would not be anyone in the area for at least another hour, making her next move more straightforward than it should. Forcing herself not to rush, she crossed her working area and got to the door to Curtis’ office. His badge beeped once as she scanned it by the RFID sensor, unlocking the door and granting her access. A minute later, her boss’ and ex-lover’s computer was booting. She had known his password for a while. His chopped thumb took care of the biometric confirmation step.
Rachel had never realized the amount of control Curtis had from his terminal. There were so many more options than in hers! Forcing herself to focus, she navigated the grid to cleanroom control. Two minutes later, she had given the system instructions to prepare an extra concentrated dose of the RGX-113, their most promising version of the regenerative drug yet.
She was about to log out and head to the labs when her eyes stopped by a section of the control panel that looked intriguing. On the one hand, Rachel knew that time was of great importance. On the other, she could not help herself from navigating down the options. A wicked smile formed on her face when she understood the kind of possibilities at her fingertips. She typed for two minutes, making sure the instructions were bulletproof. By the time she logged off, she was confident she had the best Plan B in the world.
There was a new security guard on her way to the cleanroom. He was as big and muscular as his colleague from the day before but did not appear to be sharper. Rachel repeated the same procedure, feeling the same type of arousal when the stronger man stepped out of her way as she walked past him with determination.
Different than the previous day, Curtis’ badge beeped only once. The screen flashed in green. There was a loud hissing sound as the outer door to the cleanroom unlocked. Rachel matched it, letting go of the breath she had not realized she had been holding.
The inner door was easier. Rachel scanned the badge once more and then entered her boss’ password. His chopped thumb was necessary once more, but she had it readily available. Five seconds later, she was where she had longed to be, the final step towards taking over the RGX project herself. Rachel knew that she had had to force the situation more than she had initially thought she would. Once she was done here, she would need to vanish from the grid.
In her naiveté, Rachel had been initially convinced that she would be able to sneak everything she needed out of Deadwater, one of the highest security research facilities in the country, and go back to her day-to-day as if nothing had happened. She now knew that the price to keep working on her life’s project was her own life. The only path she had been able to find to get a dose of what she needed out of the facility had involved leaving so many breadcrumbs that the only option would be to disappear. She had a plane ticket to Brazil later in the morning, but she was not counting on taking it. Instead, she would drive to Mexico as soon as she managed to get out of the base.
In any case, Rachel did not regret anything of what she had done. Any price was a fair price if, as she expected, she ended up bringing RGX to life. She was the only one who had managed to understand the full potential of the drug. And once she could make it work, she would get anything she wanted. No matter how many federal laws she was breaking, Rachel was confident the government would be happy to give her a clean record once she showed them what she could deliver.
The cleanroom’s decontamination protocol felt insufferably long. Rachel caught herself looking at her watch way too often, and a trickle of sweat ran down her forehead even though the room was kept at low temperatures on purpose. She sighed when something hissed, and a door in the far wall opened. A mechanical arm was holding a vial with a bluish liquid. It was labeled RGX-113.
Rachel felt her heart accelerate with anticipation as she crossed the room towards the object of her desire. She removed the vial from its support and then slid it into the self-refrigerated container she had brought with her. She was so close.
She walked back to the cleanroom’s entrance, taking deep breaths to bring her heart rate down. Her job was almost done. All she had to do was walk past the military policeman, outside the lab, and into the parking lot. She was minutes away from getting what she longed for and starting a new life. She looked at her watch. It was five minutes to eight in the morning. She could be in Mexico by lunchtime.
Curtis’ badge beeped once as she started the procedure to walk out of the room. The screen flashed green once more, and asked her for biometric confirmation. Her boss's thumb proved its worth once more. And then, just when she expected the door to hiss open, the screen went to a third step.
“Enter confirmation code for material retrieval.”
“ Fuck!” Rachel cursed.
She had never heard of a confirmation code. Taking a deep breath, she typed in Curtis’ password. The screen beeped twice and showed a red message informing her the password was wrong. What was more concerning was the fact that she had two attempts left. And if she understood the sixty seconds countdown on the top right, she did not have forever to come up with the code.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
She should have imagined it would not be so easy. After all, she had been trying to steal stuff from the Department of Defense.
Desperate, Rachel tried the password again, hoping that she had mistyped it the first time. There was another red message. The number of attempts left was down to one.
She broke down into nervous laughter. Curiously enough, she had not considered the consequences of failure. Now, the prospect of spending a very long time in prison started running through her mind.
Out of ideas, Rachel entered a random number into the screen as the countdown was about to get to zero. The alarm started blaring a moment later. The first one to react was the guard down the aisle. It was then, as she saw him rushing towards the cleanroom, that Dr. Rachel Reed found the necessary calm to focus. She logged into a terminal using Curtis’ access and navigated through the options. Heavy bolts locked the room’s outer doors as she activated the emergency protocol. After this was over, someone would probably review the access and emergency protocols and fix the loophole she had found. Still, for all she knew, she had isolated herself in the lab in a way that could not be overridden.
Forty minutes later, Rachel was leaning against the top of the metallic testing table while two dozen men in military uniform tried to gain access to the room she was in. General Whitley was talking to her through the speaker system in the room.
“You are a smart woman, Dr. Reed. You know we’ll get in sooner than later. Do yourself a favor and make this easy for all of us,” he said.
“I only need sixty seconds of your attention, General. Listen to me, and I’ll end this,” Rachel replied.
There were a few seconds of silence. The General finally came back:
“Ok. You have your sixty seconds.”
Rachel knew that the following words coming out of her mouth would be the most important in her life. She was surprisingly calm, considering the pressure.
“RGX is so much more than an accelerated healing drug,” she started. “I know we have not been delivering results, but it has been because we were looking at it from the wrong angle. I found the key, though. The sample I’m holding is proof enough. It is much more advanced than anything we have tested so far. Let me work on it, and what I will deliver to you will far exceed higher battlefield longevity. I will create a new generation of supersoldiers: faster, stronger, incredibly resilient. I will help you change warfare as we know it and give this country the sort of supremacy that cannot be countered. I only need six months.”
There was no immediate response. When the General’s voice came back, Rachel immediately felt that it was not to bring any good news.
“Dr. Reed, by my count, you are guilty of at least five severe federal crimes. Do you really think that you will walk away from them with an unfounded grand promise?”
Almost without time to digest his words, Rachel heard the bolts of the outer door recede. A group of soldiers immediately filled the area between the exterior door and the inner one. Rachel realized that she was minutes away from being locked into a maximum-security prison.
Her mind was strangely clear as she replied:
“You leave me no other option, General.”
And with that, she opened the refrigerated container where she had stored the vial with the RGX-113 concentrated sample and downed it in one gulp.
The effect was immediate. The shouts coming from outside faded out into an unrecognizable gibberish as Rachel’s body convulsed. She did not remember when she had dropped to her knees. Her body burned fiercely inside by then. The anguish seemed to last forever. By the time it receded, the soldiers were banging at the reinforced glass. She did not know how much time had gone by, but it had felt like an eternity. An excruciating eternity.
The yelling became audible once more, even if it was hard to understand the babble. And then, the stretching began.
“What the fuck?” Rachel asked aloud as she felt her chest pushing against her blouse, which suddenly felt tighter than a sports bra. The same kind of tightness soon reached her thighs, where the fabric of the skirt was starting to creep into her hips.
The truth was that Rachel had not known what to expect when she had drunk the concentrated dose of RGX-113, but she was sure that she had not expected this.
A button of her blouse shot out, clinging on the metallic floor as the stretched fabric of her attire ripped open to show her generous breasts and the black push-up bra fighting heroically to contain it. In a panic, Rachel tried to stand, only to feel the cotton of her skirt shred into a new parting on her left thigh. The door felt shorter as she got to her full height. And then, her toes popped through the front of her pumps, showing the dark blood crimson of their polish.
Rachel could now discern some of the screams coming from outside.
“What the hell is happening to her?” a soldier cried.
“Is she... growing?” someone else hollered.
Every other button of her blouse ripped at once, unable to contain the relentless expansion of her ribcage and chest. Her sleeves were also creeping up her arms, feeling uncomfortably tight against her upper arms.
The hint of a six-pack in her fit abdomen greeted those observing her from outside the room as her skirt kept becoming tighter and sluttier, now barely a wide belt.
“What the hell is happening to me?” she asked aloud.
RGX should have made her stronger. It should have also made her more resilient. And as far as she had been able to model, it should have also worked wonders on her reflexes. Nothing she had seen during her research had suggested that it would make her bigger. And yet, here she was, with her eyes already level with the top of a door that had to be at least eight feet tall.
She breathed in hard, trying to get enough focus to determine how tall she had got already. She never could. Her increased weight ended up being too much for the thick heels of her pumps to take it and they broke, making her lose her balance and fall heavily on her ass.
Rachel could not concentrate on the sensation of falling for too long since a sharp pain from her right hand demanded her attention. She raised it under her face just in time to see the gold ring her mother had given her snap in two as it could no longer fit the digit where it had lived during the last nine years.
“Oh, Fuck!” she let out.
Her blouse then started shredding on her back, quickly becoming two separate pieces of unrelated clothing around both her enlarging arms. Between them, the shiny fabric of her designer’s bra was doing a hell of a job fighting the merciless expansion of her firm breasts. It was apparent that it would eventually have to surrender, in any case.
Her shoes went out first, though. The width of her feet soon started doing as much damage as their length had, and they finally burst through the sides of the leader pumps, exposing them to the world.
“Ohhhhhh….Fuck!” Rachel repeated, moaning slightly this time.
Her head hit the ceiling a moment later. Almost as if on cue, her bra gave up right there, shooting out of her torso like a slingshot and hitting the window at the door where the soldiers were trying to make some sense of what was going on.
Her skirt was also gone, shredded to pieces at some point during the process, while the remainders of her blouse were now a series of ribbons wrapped around her arms. Her panties were the last thing that remained to keep her modesty, but it was at the price of the elastic band cutting into her skin. Sneering, Rachel slid a finger between her hip and the fabric and pulled, quickly getting rid of the last surviving element of her attire, utterly unconcerned about her stark nudity. She was stooping while sitting by then, her body having already gotten too big for any other posture.
The inner door finally hissed and started to open. The grunts had somehow managed to override her emergency lock. Rachel’s bare feet were right in front of it, by now, even if her ass was sitting halfway across the room. In an impulse, she kicked the heavy door as the first soldiers pushed it to get inside. The effect was considerably harsher than she had expected.
The thick metal of the cleanroom’s door bent noticeably under the strength of her punt, which sent the door back so violently that it trapped two of the soldiers, crushing them to their deaths against the doorframe. Rachel moaned in pleasure as she felt them squish, but the momentary thrill was forgotten as soon as her head hit the ceiling once more, forcing her to stoop even further.
“How fucking big am I going to get?” she asked aloud. The prospect of dying, crushed as her body kept expanding in the underground facility, was starting to become more of an anguishing reality.
Almost as if fate was having some fun at her expense, her body seemed to respond to her question. Rachel had not noticed, but the warmth filling every cell of her body had been there ever since the stretching had started. It burned with increased intensity for an instant, sending a powerful wave of pleasure down her anatomy and triggering a sudden growth spurt.
Rachel did not have the time to take in what happened as her scalp hit the reinforced ceiling with violence and then broke through it, sending a fine cloud of dust raining into the room where she was still sitting. The process was so abrupt that she barely noticed her head growing through the three-foot-thick slab of concrete. By the time she could focus back again, her world had changed abruptly.
Rachel vaguely recognized the man standing in front of her. He was a researcher, but she doubted she had ever talked to him. She recalled him looking at her derriere, but that did not make him too different from most of his male colleagues. He stood out now, though, if only for the fact that the man was barely taller than her head, chin to forehead.
In the heat of the spurt, Rachel had grown cleanly through the thick ceiling of the cleanroom and into the superior floor of the underground facility, where some of the less classified stuff was being taken care of.
“Fuck!” she exclaimed.
The man in front of her seemed to be as puzzled as she was and considerably more uncomfortable. Her exclamation was all that he needed to let a scream out and turn to run as fast as he could.
She was not merely big. Somehow, in the span of a couple of seconds, Rachel had evolved from unnaturally tall to gigantic. Her body was now taking almost two entire floors of the Deadwater subterranean floors. And this was while she was still sitting!
There was no one else to be seen in the room her head was now in. She had to shift her attention to the floor below soon enough, though. In sequence, Rachel heard the commanding yell first and then felt the pricking in her skin. A fraction of a second later, the cracking sound reached her ears. It took her a few moments to identify it for what it was: shooting from automatic rifles.
Rachel felt as if multiple small insects were biting her at once, in her thighs, arms, stomach, and breasts. Her blood started boiling when she realized that the General was trying to get her killed. In an impulse, she blindly swatted with her arm. It hit the wall with a loud thud. Rachel smirked in evil satisfaction when she felt something squish between the hard plaster and her hand.
The shooting stopped for a moment. The soldiers must have been shocked at the results of her instinctive retribution. They resumed firing soon enough. Enraged, Rachel used her long legs, this time. A couple of soft bodies were thrown around.
Dr. Rachel Reed had never been an angel. She had never hurt anyone before, though. At least, not much. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the brilliant researcher was vaguely conscious that over the last few minutes, she had killed a few people. She did not find it in her to feel guilty about it, though.
Instead, she was considerably more curious about what was happening to her, especially when her head hit the ceiling of the second floor at the same time that her shoulders started pressing upward, fighting against the weakened concrete top of the white room to get into the same room where her face was.
There was no sudden growth spurt this time. Rachel’s head just kept pushing with increased intensity into the plaster, sending debris raining down into the empty room as the rest of her figure fought its way up. She did not stoop this time, though. Freaked out as she was about what was happening to her, Rachel had already learned that in the fight against the underground facility, her expanding body seemed to have the upper hand.
Her experience outgrowing the white room gave her the necessary peace of mind that she would not die crushed to focus on growth. How the fuck could RGX do this to her? The fact that she had no clue about it bothered her almost as much as the freakish nature of her transformation.
Rachel had always been more intelligent than anyone else in the project. And while this had made the team progress slowly because of her colleagues' frustrating lack of talent, it had also given her an edge to steer the research in the direction she pleased. She had started realizing the true potential of RGX weeks before General Whitley had decided to cancel the project. And she had enjoyed this exclusive knowledge ever since. Rachel knew the drug inside out, she knew the genetic changes it induced in the body, and she knew what the models predicted when it came to performance enhancements. Or so she had thought.
“It must be the regenerative factor,” she muttered to the abandoned conference room.
It was the only option. RGX was not only supposed to make soldiers much more resilient to wounds, but it also accelerated their metabolism to make them heal several orders of magnitude faster. And to do that, it accelerated the process of cell replication…
Rachel was distracted from her train of thought when her dark auburn hair got wet. It took her a moment to understand that her scalp had broken through the piping level as her head kept pushing the ceiling upwards. The floor tiles below started bulging as her shoulders kept their relentless assault on them, and chunks of the area around her neck started breaking away, enlarging the hole.
“How fucking tall am I going to get?” Rachel repeated to herself. It was a legitimate question, now. Even if she could not yet comprehend the underlying process, she understood that she was growing. And it did not look as if the process was going to stop any time soon.
The plaster around her head finally gave at the same time as her torso broke into the floor where she had been at. And then, a new obstacle popped up when her bare feet hit the thick metal of the clean room’s inner walls. The metal dented but did not easily give, informing the growing woman of a challenge she had not yet considered. Rachel momentarily resolved the inconvenience by bending her legs at the knees but also realized that this was not a sustainable solution.
The growth process never ceased to feed Rachel with reasons to get distracted, though, so she soon forgot about her feet and focused back on what she could see.
Diana desperately needed coffee. She had never been an early bird, but the lab discipline at Deadwater required her to be at her post early. An hour of running simulations in her workstation had exhausted the effect of the first coffee of the morning, and so, she was now in the common coffee area for a refill.
The large room was busy. Diana was far from the only person that needed some caffeine at half-past eight in the morning. The coffee machine hummed as it prepared her cappuccino. Diana distractedly checked her cellphone while the beverage was getting ready. And then, she saw Richard through the corner of her eye and felt her heart fill with glee.
She had fancied the man since the first moment she had laid eyes upon him. Having recently learned about his divorce had only made him more appealing, up to the point where she did not give a damn about the fact that he was twelve years her senior.
She felt her heart rate accelerate when Richard walked in her direction. She felt embarrassed, in a way. After all, she had a Ph.D. in Physics and worked in highly classified defense projects. Behaving like a teenager with a crush was unbecoming. And still…
“Morning, Di!” Richard said cheerfully.
She had to contain herself not to giggle like a schoolgirl.
“Hey, Richard. How is it going?” Diana replied, holding the scalding coffee.
“Good, thanks. Did you see that simulation…” Richard started.
And then, the floor shook violently under them.
Diana’s coffee spilled, burning her hand and getting a rude interjection out of her. What was worse, her lab coat and blouse were a ruin. She felt like a klutz. And it was happening in the worst moment.
Richard, always a gentleman, reached for some napkins with the clear intention to help her clean herself. And then, the floor shuddered again. This time, it was much worse, sending Diana’s paper cup to the floor and making Richard lose his footing. He ended up on the floor, together with some other dwellers of the coffee area and some overturned stools and high tables.
Murmurs erupted around them. For the most part, they were from people that were as surprised as Diana about what was going on. Deadwater was right in the center of the country, as far away from any seismic activity as possible. And the structure was built seven damned stories underground!
A new tremor ended up with Diana on her butt, right next to Richard. Some of the murmurs turned into screams. Diana ignored them as she felt Richard’s hand on her shoulder.
“Are you ok?” he asked.
And then, the floor right in front of them opened into a wide crack. It made Diana momentarily forget about the man she fancied and realize that they were in a dangerous situation.
“What’s happening?” she asked nervously.
Richard’s expression was a clear indication that he had no clue. The crack widened as both sides of it started to bulge. And then, something emerged. It took Diana a moment to identify the reddish mass for what it was. Once it got more visible out of the ever-widening facture, she recognized it. Her brain rejected to believe it, though. And then, the emerging mound poked further through the broadening hole, and strands of it started flowing freely.
“That’s… hair?” Richard asked.
A patch of a pale pinkish surface followed suit. Diana did not have time to establish the connection before a pair of brown eyes followed. Their oversized irises soon contracted, turning in her direction. Diana’s hair stood on end as she felt the attention of unnaturally large eyeballs. A cute narrow nose started showing. Diana began to shake like a leaf. Thick, glossy lips followed suit, forming a face that took most of the room from floor to ceiling. Its proportions made it more complicated than usual to identify it. Once she managed to process all of its angles, Diana had no trouble matching it with a woman she perfectly knew.
At twenty-five, Rachel Reed had been the youngest researcher ever to make it to Deadwater. Diana knew perfectly well because she had beaten her own record by four years. Dubbed the “wonder girl,” the young redhead had made it straight into level seven, a secret ambition of most of the facility’s scientific community, the place where the fascinating stuff happened. Three years later, the rising star had apparently exceeded any expectation there had been about her. In the process, she had also demonstrated that arrogance and wickedness did not necessarily correlate with age. Diana, like most people, had started calling her “the wonder bitch.”
And now, Diana was the focus of the wicked woman’s attention. Had she had any doubt about it, it was gone when the oversized lips parted, and Rachel’s voice reverberated in the room, which suddenly felt much smaller.
“Diana!” her words said. She still sounded like Rachel, only much louder. The oversized woman’s warm breath reached Diana, adding to her nervousness and making her sweat. Her voice made her voice rattle and her soul shiver.
Diana’s mind short-circuited right then, unable to absorb what was going on. She started to scream like a madwoman. Rachel’s gigantic face chuckled in response.
And then, the tiles under her started bulging, pushing Richard and her upwards.
“There’s more of me coming,” the massive woman said as if that explained everything.
And then, suddenly, her eyes moved away from her and looked down through the crack she had come from. She let out a grunt. Something had obviously got her attention. An instant later, her scalp hit the ceiling of the coffee room, making a fine cloud of dust rain on top of Diana. One of the overhead lamps dropped a moment later, crashing loudly on Richard and dropping him cold. Diana screamed again, but the looming face of the giantess ignored her, this time.
Rachel was still mind-blown at what was happening to her, but rational as she was, she found no reason to deny it or ignore it. So, instead, she just observed as her enlarging body gradually broke through the subterranean facility where she worked. Level minus six had been interesting enough, but minus five proved to be much more thrilling, especially when the diminutive form of Diana Murray ended up right under her nose. The tiny underachiever seemed to be even more shocked at her size than Rachel was and soon started screaming like a madwoman. For some strange reason, she was delighted to be the cause of the loser’s distress. Next to her, Richard Carlson was paralyzed, confirming to Rachel that his mind had never been too good at adapting to unexpected inputs. This was one of the reasons he worked at minus five and not at minus seven like her, of course.
She felt like teasing the action-figure-sized couple. And then, her knees touched the ceiling of the cleanroom, unable to bend anymore to fit the stance in the shrinking lab.
“Oh,” she said as Richard got hit by a lamp that knocked him out. She would have found the situation amusing if it were not for the concern coming from the lower level. It did not take her long to conclude that there was only one way out:
By now, Rachel had already proven that the concrete structure of the underground research facility was a flimsy adversary to her expanding body, so she was not concerned about her ability to grow through it. This had removed considerable anxiety from her mind since her concern now was how to get out of the building, not dying crushed in it.
She would need to do something about her lower body, though. With its thick metallic walls, the cleanroom was more challenging to break than the rest of the facility, it would seem. Forgetting about the packed coffee area in front of her eyes, Rachel started bending her legs, trying to bring her calves under her thighs in an attempt to maneuver herself into a kneeling position. The cleanroom ceiling crumbled some more as her knee broke through it, but this gave her enough room to twist her lower limbs in the desired position. She was about to call it a success when something soft squished under her foot.
“Oooooooo! ,” Rachel repeated. Of course, there was only one possible explanation. Rachel grinned to no one in particular. Realizing that she had crushed another little man made her feel more abashed than guilty.
“We are running out of room!” Private Mills screamed in anguish.
The woman’s shapely leg was bent, its knee brushing the ceiling. What was worse, her massive naked foot, which by now was as long as he was tall, was firmly pressed against the heavy door, bending it with an ever-increasing groan and blocking the only exit from the hellish room.
“Stay calm,” Sergeant Garcia replied. He sounded way less confident than he tried to, though. Trapped on the other side of the lab, the woman’s left thigh was slowly cornering him against the far wall. Their comrades were still on the other side of the door, but their yells of encouragement and hope sounded like gibberish to them now.
The constant small movements and the warmth the skin radiated were a continuous reminder that the slowly enlarging mass trapping them belonged to a living being. And then, suddenly, the muscles of the woman’s right calf compressed as the long toes of her elegant foot curled. They heralded a movement unlike any the two soldiers had seen before. Her right knee suddenly hit the ceiling with renewed force. An awful lot of stuff seemed to break at once. Mills looked up just in time to see a large chunk of the heavy concrete slab break right on top of him. The wet squishing sound as the deadly debris crushed him was sickening.
Sergeant Garcia did not have time to feel any sympathy for his deceased comrade. Following the example of her right leg, the growing woman’s left calf started maneuvering a moment later. Her thigh moved up, carrying the knee with it and crushing another chunk of the ceiling. Fortunately for Garcia, the same thigh protected him from the raining debris. Her gargantuan calf then bent and slid under the rest of her leg, moving her from a sitting to a kneeling position, with her foot behind her round ass. In the process, the woman, who was still slowly stretching, repositioned herself, making the space between her enormity and the wall even tighter. Garcia had no other option but to get further into the room. When he turned, he screamed in terror when he found himself trapped between a thick wall and a bare sole that was taller than him.
The thigh then repositioned again… and the bare foot pushed in his direction. Garcia moved his arms out, trying to stop the approaching appendage. It was like trying to stop a speeding train. Sergeant Garcia barely had the time to feel anything as his fit body popped into a crimson cloud under the overwhelming force of Dr. Rachel Reed’s magnificent giant foot.
There was no one left in the room to hear the rumbling words coming from above: “Oooooooo! ”
The change from sitting to kneeling had ended up with a considerable amount of undetermined stuff breaking. It had also resulted in the squishing of another tiny body. Back at her level, the change of position had also pushed Rachel’s body higher up, making her hit the next ceiling and cause it to crack.
Her shift in pose had momentarily fixed the issue of her legs filling the cleanroom. This had only been the first objective of her move, though. If she stayed like this, her knees would eventually hit the walls again, and she would be back to square one. It was time to get out of her cage. Forcing her calves a little, Rachel curled her long toes to exert pressure on them.
It was time.
Looking down at the tiny and still screaming form of Diana, Rachel winked and said:
“Nice seeing you, Diana. We have to catch up, one of these days.” And she chuckled devilishly.
And with that, she pushed herself upwards, stretching her legs and standing up from her kneeling position. It should have been a simple gesture for anyone not growing into a giant inside of an underground facility. Rachel felt like a human wrecking ball as her head broke through three floors in succession, the movement so fast that she barely had the time to see the ever-shrinking and very shocked dwellers of the rooms she passed through.
Her head was not the only part of her body doing damage, though. The rest of her expanding anatomy wreaked some havoc of its own as her shoulders, breasts, hips, and ass widened the holes her head had previously carved on the lower floors. Eventually, the structure could not hold it anymore and started crumbling around her now standing figure, sending tons of concrete and dozens of unsuspecting people down to the lowest level.
Having been too close to the spot where Rachel had emerged, Diana was shoved upwards by her rising body. She was pushed around by flesh and debris, making her momentarily lose her orientation. Eventually, Diana realized that she was on top of the giant’s left breast. By then, she was already two floors higher. It was when she started sliding down the perky mound of flesh. It eventually ended, leading her to a fifty-foot drop to her death. Richard followed a similar fate, only on Rachel’s other breast. He came back from his momentary unconsciousness to find himself riding a wild rollercoaster. Different than Diana, the older man had enough reflexes to look for somewhere to hold. It took him a moment to realize that the one he had found was no other than the giant’s erect nipple. It felt spongy as he held for dear life, wishing he had taken better care of his physical condition. Gallons of adrenaline rushed through Richard’s body and helped him muster the necessary strength to keep himself from falling, but he knew the rush would not last forever. He wondered how long he would be able to hold when something hit him with an incomprehensible force. Richard’s last realization before everything went black was that his body was broken.
Two floors above, Rachel’s head could not fit into a single room anymore. She must have grown some more while she was standing since the dozen or so people sitting around the large conference table and looking at her with dropped jaws looked smaller than Richard or Diana had.
She was about to address them when something clasped her oversensitive right nipple. Rachel’s mind, which was still working under the frame of the normal-sized world, quickly associated the feeling with that of an insect or some other type of bug biting her. She reacted out of instinct, slapping her breast and squishing the pest against her bulging mound. It was not until a second later that she understood that what had been at her tit had not been a bug.
“Oh,” Rachel said out loud once more.
Her sharp mind was already starting to understand that her change of size seemed to have come together with an unnatural ability to kill people. Somehow, she was not bothered by the thought.
Focusing back on the world in front of her eyes, Rachel observed the GI Joe-sized suited people and was thrilled by their diminutiveness. Counting mentally, she understood that she was in the first underground level at Deadwater. The building over the main subterranean facility was three stories tall, which meant that she had four floors to go before she could breathe some fresh air. At the pace she was growing, she did not think it would take her long.
In the meantime, she did not have much more to do than observe the shrinking world and enjoy the mild warmth still filling every cell in her body.
“Did I interrupt any interesting discussion?” she teased her stunned audience.
A loud alarm started blaring a moment later. The scene repeated itself in each of the other seven subterranean levels of the research facility.
The men in front of her rushed to stand from the conference table. And then they looked around like deer caught in the headlights. It took Rachel a moment to understand what had happened.
“Am I on the way to the exit?” she asked. She then chuckled and added: “You guys are fucked!”
And then, her head started pushing the ceiling upwards once again.
Back at the third level from the bottom, the survivors from the coffee area were starting to get themselves together. Many of their colleagues were gone, having fallen through the wide crater the growing woman had carved with her ascension.
Dust was still raining from the ceiling and the floors above. A few moments later, the fine mist started to clear, though. When it did, the half a dozen researchers still alive were greeted by the most enormous pussy they had ever seen. Clean-shaven, the long slit was also gleaming. The scientists were too shocked to make the association right away. When one of the women in the group finally realized that the giant’s crotch was wet, she let out a short shriek.
“Oh My God! She’s… enjoying this,” she said, horrified.
Her words did not manage to get any momentum, though. They were soon forgotten when anguished screams coming from behind the vast womanhood informed them that some of their comrades were trapped in there.
Rachel had always been proud of her body. She had been naturally blessed with a slim and well-proportioned figure, with long shapely legs, wide hips, and perky breasts. She worked tirelessly to keep it at its prime. The hint of a six-pack in her flat tummy was proof enough of that. The jewel of the crown was her ass, in any case. Round and rock-hard, her derriere could easily be considered model-caliber.
As a result of her continuous growth, Rachel’s world-class ass had also become a dreadful threat, especially to the three people trapped between it and the wall.
“There is no room!” Michael yelled.
Together with Samantha and Clark, he had slid in the space between the refrigerator and the vending machine, the last safe haven in the coffee area. The growing backside’s expanding roundness had already reached the two appliances and was starting to exert pressure, though. The groaning sound of the metal bending under the ruthless strength of a woman’s swelling butt sent shivers down his spine.
“I don’t want to die!” Clark screamed.
Samantha could only sob.
The idea of dying was bad enough. The prospect of doing it while slowly being ground between a woman’s backside and a wall was even worse. But the giant’s derriere kept pushing against the fridge and the vending machine, making short work of them and taking most of the light away from their last hiding spot.
“We have to push!” Michael said.
“What?” Clark replied.
To prove his point, he mustered all his strength and pushed the bulging mass of flesh. He never knew what hit him. An instant later, the three researchers were squished between a ruined vending machine and a two-dimensional fridge.
The lobby at Deadwater was no different from that of many other federal facilities. The polished marble floor shone like new in the vast area that was split in two by a reception desk. To a sharp eye, the build and alertness of the guards at the desk or by the metal detection arches would have alerted to the unique nature of the operations being conducted at the base. But to the eighty percent of visitors that were directed to the three floors of the above-ground building, the true objective of the facility was hidden. Those three floors mostly contained boring departments dedicated to bureaucratic DoD stuff.
The guests waiting patiently at the main vestibule were oblivious of the chaos happening just a few feet underneath them. The alarms that brought everyone in the underground facility to attention did not blare in here, and they could not be heard through the thick layer of isolating material. And so, they were all caught by surprise when the gleaming floor cracked with a heavy shaking, sending most of them to the floor .
To Rachel, the growth process was as fast or slow as ever, but her larger size made her growth faster to the normal world. And so, those that had been shocked by the strong tremor in the lobby did not need to wait much before her auburn hair, forehead, and eyes emerged from the rising marble.
“Almost there,” Rachel exclaimed as she was greeted by the bright sunlight filtering through the tall windows.
Chaos erupted around her, the cacophony of screams sounding like music to her ears now. Rachel still did not know what to make of her continued growth, but she had already decided that she liked being the source of such commotion.
She was about to tease the incredibly spooked crowd at the lobby when something tickled her ass, halfway down the underground levels. Rachel reacted by tightening her buttcheeks and repositioning herself. Something crushed as she did. And then, something else squished.
“Oooops,” she said with a naughty inflection.
The understanding that her backside had crushed someone somehow felt more amusing than a cause for remorse. She did not have a lot of time to focus her mind on the absurd consequences of her expansion, though. Already recovered from the initial shock, the military policemen staffing the reception desk had already reached for their guns and were aiming at her rising face.
Rachel scowled at the implied threat. A moment later, the area around the would-be attackers erupted in a cloud of dust, making the rest of the lobby shudder again and bringing the screams around her up another notch.
Smoke and debris started clearing out and revealed a giant fist. The marble floor had caved in around it, leaving no doubt about the fate of the soldiers that had dared to draw their guns against the emerging woman.
Rachel’s victim list had swiftly got into the double-digit, but she did not seem to be bothered at all. If anything, the fact that people were dying appeared to be a natural consequence of the growth process and her new dimensions.
The rest of the guards in the area hesitated about what to do. Rachel realized and warned them as she glared:
“I wouldn't test me if I were you!”
The armed men soon joined the rest of the Lego-sized people scurrying around the lobby, trying to find a way out from the surreal situation Rachel had immersed them in.
The vestibule was taller than the rest of the levels at the base, so by the time her rising head hit the ceiling, her bulging breasts were already shoving through the ground.
“See you in a bit!” Rachel chirped as her scalp started breaking into the second floor. The more she grew, the flimsier the building around her felt.
Her head emerged into a wide corridor this time, her curious eyes facing a group of people that had been alerted by the commotion below and were heading towards the stairs. They were paralyzed in shock as the cause of the chaos stuck out from a new opening.
Deadwater’s main building was very weakened by now, so by the time the stunned group tried to resume their escape, the floor gave under their feet, sending them into the lobby first and three floors underground later.
Rachel chuckled, amused at the ever-increasing consequences of her growth. She did not have too long to observe, though, since her head broke into the top floor shortly after. Her growth was accelerating relative to the normal-sized world.
Mary was among the lucky few that had been close enough to Deadwater’s main entrance when a massive woman’s head had broken into the lobby. She had wasted no time running out to the open. Judging from the screams and the sounds of destruction coming from inside, she knew this had been the right move.
Kicking her heeled pumps out, Mary felt the warmth of the asphalt burn her bare soles as she ran across the parking lot, trying to put as much distance with the damned building as she could. She was compelled to look over her shoulder, though. What she had just witnessed was too fascinating to just forget about it. She had to stop running when she did. The scene was too captivating.
Something at the top of the glass and concrete building exploded. A moment later, a woman’s head emerged, quickly clearing the roof as it rose to the sky. Feeling safer and with the benefit of a better angle, Mary could finally get a good view of the growing behemoth. The first thing that surprised her was her age. The expanding redhead had to be at most in her late twenties. What sent a shiver down her spine was the realization that she was thoroughly enjoying the experience.
Her lips parted, and a sensual feminine voice said:
Mary had to be a good hundred feet away from the building by now. And still, the satisfied words made her bones rattle, sounding louder than a concert's speaker system.
“Ahhhhhh! Finally!” Rachel announced with a hint of lewd pleasure..
It felt good to breathe some fresh air. Rachel took a deep breath in as she felt Deadwater keep breaking around her continuous stretching anatomy. The growing woman had understood for some time that she would eventually grow through the building, but this did not prevent the real thing from feeling powerfully satisfying.
Her shoulders started pushing against the roof a moment later, lifting it like an erupting volcano as her body filled more and more of the building. By now, the research facility was starting to feel like a tight dress she wanted to get out of. This kind of mental association made the moment when her tits overflowed the structure especially satisfying.
“Mmmmmmmmm...How much bigger.....?” Rachel moaned as she observed her ever-shrinking surroundings.
The parking lot was teeming with people. Tiny and incredibly spooked people that scurried around like mice. A bit further, their parked vehicles looked like nothing more than toys to her. Somehow, Rachel felt the need to take a closer look.
A hundred feet below, seven levels underground, three soldiers were mourning the death of their comrades as they waited their chance to be rescued, trapped between the inner and outer cleanroom doors as a result of the general power failure in the facility.
The view on the other side of the window had become a uniform pinkish mass since, by now, the cleanroom only contained the growing woman’s feet, her ankles already poking into the floor above.
And then, the thick metallic walls groaned. It was mild, at first. The metallic shriek became much louder as the seconds passed. Eventually, the wall was dented.
Private McClusky was the first one to recognize the bulging sphere for what it was:
“Oh my God. That’s her toe!”
The three soldiers understood that waiting to be rescued was no longer an option and turned to the window facing the corridor, slamming their firsts against the reinforced glass.
They screamed, but it was all in vain. With the power gone, the speaker that allowed them to communicate with their comrades was gone too. Their brothers in arms tried their best to understand them, but it was hard to convey the kind of danger they were facing only with gestures.
Private McClusky turned, trying to find something to write. He was dismayed when he saw that the bulging on the wall had made it halfway across the room. His two colleagues realized about the dreadful development an instant later, which in turn intensified the anguish of their screams.
The soldiers outside understood that something was going terribly wrong but could not comprehend why. The terrified faces of their comrades blocked their only view of the space between the cleanroom and the corridor. And then, suddenly, there was a loud bang, and the thick glass was covered with a layer of gore.
They were horrified but did not have too long to let the feeling stick since a couple of seconds later, the ceiling came down on them.
In hindsight, Rachel had to admit that Deadwater had been built admirably well. It was not until her belly button started peeking over the roof of the building that the entire structure collapsed, sending a rain of rubble down the vast pit where the underground facility had been constructed.
It was not as if the crumbling building had been too much of an impediment to her mobility so far, but its effective demolition increased her freedom of movement and made her feel a certain relief.
The deafening sound of the facility giving up in its hopeless struggle against the enlarging woman made most of those scattered around the large parking lot stop and turn to witness the last moments of the military base. Rachel fixed her stare upon them, her perspective on their minute forms shifting by the second as she kept rising into the sky.
And then, as abruptly as it had come, the stretching feeling was gone. The warmth faded away, too, depriving Rachel of an ever-present pleasure she had already discounted.
The young scientist looked down the length of her body and then inspected her surroundings once more, double-checking that the world did not appear to be moving farther away from her anymore. Her growth had stopped. The issue, of course, was that it had done so at a time when she was already massive.
Rachel’s hands naturally found a resting spot at her hips as she let the playground around her sink in. God, she was huge!
“I had certainly not expected this,” she said out loud.
She had downed RGX on a whim. Cornered and sure that she would be locked in the darkest hole General Whitley could find, Rachel had been convinced that she had nothing to lose. Best case scenario, the concentrated dose of the drug would give her a boost in performance in the upper-end of her simulations that would help her escape the maximum security facility. Worst case, she would die, which was not such a bad prospect, when the alternative was to spend the rest of her days in a shithole.
She had not considered the scenario “grow to the size of the fucking Godzilla” even in her wildest dreams. And yet, this was the one that had been dealt to her. Like every other scientist that could call herself that, Rachel was a pragmatic woman. This might not be what she had expected, but this was what she had. So, she would need to make the most out of it.
Something deep in the back of her mind told her that, freakish as it was, her new condition looked like it would have its advantages too.