Injected 2: Jordan's Revenge

Chapter 1 - A Late-Evening Meeting

[Amina, Claire]

Prologue:

After pouring the last swish of beer foam into the grass, Liam extended his empty red solo cup out to a pledge who happily added another tick mark to its side.  Liam’s eyes were already wandering over to the girls making out by the pool, and he absent-mindedly spilled some of his beer moments after receiving it upon the diligent pledge.

“What the fuck, man?” Liam growled angrily, seeing that at least 2 mouthfuls of Yueng-Ling had swished out onto the pledge’s bare, markered and lip-sticked chest.

“Sorry, sir.” The pledge said, apologizing not for an infraction as it was clear the pledge had done nothing to cause the spill.  Instead he apologized aimlessly for Liam becoming upset.

Liam did not accept the apology.

Instead, Liam demanded that the pledge scribble out the tick mark on his solo cup. He also intimidated the pledge to scribble in his own initials to verify the mistake, something he’d certainly pay for later.  It sucked for the pledge, but there was no way Liam was going to let that count as a full beer.

The night went on with Liam and the other seniors at the top of the world and the top of their game.  A few hours after the sun went down, Liam’s roommate Jake showed up, his arm wrapped around a girl that Liam nor anyone else had ever seen before.

“Who’s your friend, she’s cute!” Liam shouted over the music.

“Yeah, don’t tell her that. It’ll go straight to her head!” Jake shouted back, and the cute, short girl giggled and patted Jake playfully on his chest.

Liam followed up, “Where’d you find her?  She got a friend?”

Jake chuckled, “Nah bro.  She’s from out of town, visiting her sister or some shit.”

“Or some shit? Haha!” the blonde laughed.

“Well, where’s her sister? Tell her to come on out?” Liam put his hands up, rocking his body gently to the bassy music.

“She’s in her 40’s…you wouldn’t like her.” the blonde replied with a playful smirk.

“Alright, alright! Loud and clear.”

Liam might have reminded his roommate that he indeed had a girlfriend, a pretty fucking hot one at that..huge ass, great tits, and a fiery personality, but Liam barely expected Jake to make it the rest of the night without puking, let alone bed this girl playing with her sandy, brownish-blonde hair.

Jake sure was drunk, which was not unlike him when he partied, but the night was still so young..and his slur was exceptionally strong.  The girl on his arm seemed to have a good head on her shoulders though, and Liam felt comfortable letting her babysit him so that he could properly enjoy the night.

The party sustained at around an 11 on intensity for hours after midnight, and even as the sun threatened to rise the party was clinging to life.  The last of the girls went home, and that was enough queue for the remaining boys to go back, too.  Liam woke the pledges who had fallen asleep in chairs by the kegs. He sent them to their rooms and then he himself returned to his own.

Liam unlocked the door and hung his keys up.  The key rack was made of thin metal shaped like an attractive woman who was flashing some comically tacky, large breasts, and each of her long stiff nipples served as hooks for keys. Jake’s keys were already there on the left tit of the tacky college-boy decor, so Liam added his key ring to the right nipple.

Stumbling slightly as he himself was a little drunk, the wavering frat boy started to remove his shirt but froze in his tracks when he looked toward Jake’s bed.  Liam smiled.

She was straddling him in nothing but her hot pink underwear and the T-shirt she’d been wearing to the party.

“Damn, Jake…it’s fucking 5:17am!” Liam groaned with a crooked smile, rubbing his eyes as he tossed his shirt into an overflowing hamper of dirty laundry.

Liam’s entrance into his own dorm room had not seemed to deter the brownish-blonde haired cutie he’d seen way earlier in the party.  She was on top of Jake, but not aligned for a good proper fucking.  Upon closer, nosey inspection while approaching his own adjacent bed, Liam saw that Jake was completely passed out, enough drool on his pillow to indicate he’d been like that for some time.

Liam saw the blonde’s small fingers gently massaging Jake’s exposed ball sack.

“Yo..what the fuck are you doing to him?” Liam asked aggressively.    Liam had girls play with his balls before.  This girl was not playing with Jake in that way.  It seemed so much more…professional?  Maybe even surgical, precise, and focused. It was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen in his life.  Liam wouldn’t have been able to fully put it into words just how strange it looked.

The strange girl had either become spooked by Liam’s question or she was finished with whatever she was doing anyway because she released his ball sack, jumped up from the bed, and immediately started wiping her fingers clean on a napkin.  Liam didn’t want to do it, but he took a step closer and looked at his roommate's balls.

“Uhh….Were you…like…moisturizing them or something?” Liam inquired with extreme confusion, squinting only long enough to get a vague look at Jake’s sack but not a second longer than necessary.

“Yeah…they’re flaky….and smelly.” The blonde said, pulling her jeans back on and sliding her bare feet into her sneakers.  She seemed in a hurry as she ran for the door, stuffing her socks into her tiny jeans’pocket.

The blonde turned back to look at Liam and playfully winked, “Yours probably could use a little moisturizer too, I’m guessing!”

The quirky, ball-inspecting girl then disappeared out the door, and Liam was left scratching his head and looking down quizzically at his roommate.

“Yo..Jake.  Yo…” Liam said, shaking Jake’s broad shoulder.

He chuckled as Jake started shifting to get comfortable. His eyes fluttered open, but his irises were barely visible, turned up toward the tops of his eye sockets.

“Yo, put your moisturized balls away, bro.”  Liam chuckled.

Liam grabbed Jake’s blanket and pulled it up over Jake’s body, tucking him in.  He couldn’t wait to give his passed out roommate shit when they woke up the next day.

‘...or later today..’ Liam corrected himself, looking at the clock and seeing that the next day had already started.  He hoped he’d have the chance, anyway.  Liam was leaving to go see his girlfriend and wouldn’t be back in the dorm until tomorrow.  “Shit…I really need to get a few hours in..”  Liam hoped to get asleep before too much of the sun invaded their window; it was a 3-hour drive to his girlfriend’s.

Amina [2026-04-13 - Very Early Morning]

Amina took a few deep breaths, her left hand clasping over her quickly beating heart.  The buxom sleeping beauty with whom the 32-year old shared her bed was fast asleep on Amina’s left side, facing inboard. Evette was snoring blissfully, and Amina was still recovering from the impromptu midnight quickie.  Even after all these years, Amina and Evette’s relationship was a powder keg of sexual exploration and expression.  Although the unpredictability that often accompanied youth and new love had gradually stabilized relative to their accruing years of wisdom, they still felt like teenagers.

Years into their marriage, it still didn’t take much more than a cute, suggestive wiggle of Evette’s wide, kissable hips against Amina’s crotch to create a spark. When they were alone within the soft pink walls of this loving bedroom, no one else existed in the world except them.

Amina rolled onto her right side, inboard to face Evette.  The years were showing on her sleeping face, but Evette was still just as beautiful the day they first met over 10 years ago.  Amina scooted down the length of the mattress a bit, aligning her face with Evette’s bare chest. Evette was lying on her left side so her left breast was splaying and deforming under the considerable weight of its right-handed twin.  The 32 year old nuzzled into her sleeping wife’s excessive cleavage and took a deep breath.  The scent was intoxicating. Evette appeared to claim enough consciousness to lovingly stroke Amina’s scalp, gently pulling her face in tighter against her bosom.

Amina might have fallen asleep right there, supporting the weight of Evette’s right tit atop her cheek while Evette’s left tit supported everything else, but Amina felt a tickle in her abdomen.  She gently removed her face from Evette’s bust and carefully got out of bed so as not to wake her.

After doing her business in the master bathroom, Amina cloaked her naked body with a robe and made her way downstairs for a small glass of root beer soda.

Her bare feet scuffled against the carpeted steps and as Amina got closer to the first floor, she could hear voices coming from the dining room.  She peeked over the couch to see a bunched up blanket and a large pillow against the armrest.  There was even a subtle dent in the center of the white pillow to show someone had been lying in it recently, but no one was there lying on it now.

Amina rounded the corner of the living room, getting closer to the sound of quiet feminine voices and occasional giggles. Her eyes reflexively tightened in the light of the dining room.  Her eyes adjusted quickly to the lively scene in the dining room. Seated at the table were two young women, one of which was Amina’s stepdaughter Jordan.  The 22-year old was facing away, parked comfortably in the same dining room seat she had sat in every day for dinner up until she left for college.  Seated next to Jordan was the dirty blonde named Claire.  To this day, Amina didn’t know her too well and there was something off about her, but Evette was quite fond of her. Apparently Claire had been a student of Evette’s a few years back, a memorable one at that.  She’d also been instrumental in Jordan’s decision to follow through and pursue higher education which, as mean as it may have sounded, caught Amina off guard.  Amina loved Jordan like a daughter…or perhaps ‘like a big sister’ would have been more appropriate considering their closeness in age. Amina respected Jordan’s athletic prowess, excelling at most every sport she tried and even joining a college volleyball team, but Jordan was not a very hard worker when it came to academics.

There were several boys back in Jordan’s high school that the 22-year old had expertly wrapped around her fingers, trading her highly coveted attention for the answers to this and the solutions to that.  There was no doubt in Amina’s mind that Jordan got through high school mostly on her looks; the girl had the kind of figure that could make a boy cry into his pillow with desire.  Amina never outwardly approved of Jordan’s manipulative tactics but what stepmother didn’t want to see their stepdaughter succeed and prosper?  Was it Jordan’s fault that the boys at her high school were so weak and easily corrupted? If only they knew how much worse it could be!

Amina found amusing the thought of one of those poor boys having to see the curvy teenager strut around the house in those tight, revealing pajamas. The thought of them mustering the discipline and decency to avert their eyes as Jordan emerged from her bathroom wearing nothing but a towel as Amina regularly did was laughable.  Still, despite her unbreaking commitment to Evette, Amina was a flesh-and-blood woman. Disciplined eyes can wander. Committed minds can wonder. But wandering and wondering fall far short of obsession.

Those poor boys wouldn’t have lasted 2 days in this house with Jordan.

There was even one particularly smitten boy that Jordan strung along well after high school graduation.  The nameless boy was hopelessly nerdy but also quite intelligent.  To Amina’s knowledge, despite having a scholarship to an ivy league school, the hopeful boy had even remained in their quiet small town just to be available on the rare occasions that Jordan would come back from college to visit family.  She would always make time for him, but never without a school folder bursting at the seams with blank homework assignments, lab sheets, and take-home quizzes that were just waiting to be filled out.

The boy’s infatuation with Jordan went far beyond any of the others that came before him.  Amina recalled one instance where Jordan had returned home from college for the holidays.  Jordan was never much of a gift-giver, but between the designer high heels for Amina, a beautiful dress for her mom, and several other little trinkets, Jordan must have spent over $300!

Evette inquired as to where Jordan got the money, as any interested mom would, since Jordan wasn’t working. Jordan replied with a smile that she had a very generous and devoted friend who wanted to make Christmas “super special” this year.

‘That poor boy…yeesh….’Amina had thought, questioning if he’d even survive seeing Jordan in a bathing suit.

“Yup, okay.” Jordan said.

The two girls in the dining room hadn’t yet noticed Amina.

Jordan was leaning forward attentively in her dining room seat, and it was impossible for Amina’s eyes not to track onto the hot pink thong practically painted to the 22 year old college graduate’s arched lower back. The narrowing fabric dipped down into Jordan’s fuzzy polka dot pajama bottoms.  Her legs were crossed at the ankles and the tops of her feet pressed into the hardwood floor, her scrunched up toes pointing up at the underside of the dining room chair’s seat.  Jordan had white socks with some kind of orange dot or heart pattern but only one of the socks hugged her foot. The other sock was resting on the table.

“Okay, so what’s the order going to be when we…..” Jordan trailed off as Claire’s eyes rose to meet Amina’s in the dining room entranceway.

“What are you girls doing up so late?” Amina asked with a smile, resuming her walk toward the fridge.  She had only been standing there for a moment and she hoped that Claire and Jordan didn’t think she was eavesdropping.

Jordan peered over her shoulder at the sound of Amina’s voice and quipped, “Oh, you know…it's a sleepover so we’re talking about boys…music…food…sex…ya know, the usual.”

Amina grinned ear to ear as she poured a tall glass of milk. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that Jordan had discretely lowered the sock back to the floor and slid her bare foot into its mouth, wiggling her toes into their designated section at the end of the sock.

“How long are you staying, Claire?” Amina asked, stealing a glance down at the table to see a composition notebook between the two girls.  It was opened to somewhere near the end of the book and Amina noticed something very interesting on the page.  It looked like a pencil sketch of a breast.  A large, perky one…with a stiff nipple, and next to it was a small stick figured man.  There was lots of writing surrounding the graphic including what looked like a bunch of complicated math, but before she could get a better look at it, Claire shut the notebook.

It was no mystery between Claire and Jordan who scribbled the math on those pages, but Amina spent more time than she should have silently wondering which girl had sketched out that big, full breast on the page.

Was it Jordan?

Amina strongly wanted to see it again but resisted the urge to ask about it, fearing that she might make the artist uncomfortable.

If it WAS Jordan that drew it, and it meant what Amina thought it meant, well….maybe Amina would find out later.

“What’s today?  Monday?” Claire said.

Amina looked at the clock on the wall. “Well, it’s after midnight so yes.”

“Okay, yeah I’ll be catching a flight back to California on Sunday.”

“Oh, do you have family in the area?” Amina asked.

“Nope.” Claire answered bluntly with a smile.  It was uncomfortably quiet for a few moments before Jordan spoke up, “Yeah, I’ll probably be staying for the week, too.  I have to see if I can get some help from Andrew with building my resume.”

“Oh, is that the boy who was helping you with your homework?” Amina asked.

Jordan’s eyes turned to fire, “No, no no.  That was Brad.  Him and I don’t talk anymore…”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear–”

“--do you and my mom have any plans?” Jordan interrupted Amina. Claire seemed to perk up at the question and pay as close attention as Jordan did to the answer.

“Oh..umm…yes, actually.  A friend of ours got backstage tickets for some band your mother listens to. I don’t remember the name of them…anyway, apparently they can’t go anymore so they gave the tickets to us.”

“When is that?” Claire asked this time, catching Amina a little off guard but perhaps the girl was just trying to be polite.

“Well, it's going to be an all day thing, I think. We’ll be leaving at around noon and we probably won’t be home until late.”

“Oh okay, that sounds fun.” Jordan said with a smile.

“We’ll see!” Amina said with a smile.  “Good night, girls.”

“Good night, Amina.” The two echoed in unison.

Taking another long sip of her milk, Amina left the light of the dining room and made her way to the stairs, but not before hearing more giggling from the dining room.

Then, she heard the girls start saying names.

First Jordan’s name.

Then Claire.

Then Evette.

Then her own.

Claire [2026-04-12 late evening]

The blanket pushed down into the crevices of the plush cushions as Claire sat down on the couch across from Jordan.  The dirty blonde rested her right arm on her pillow which was adorning the armrest of the couch.  The first thing Claire did when she purchased her plane ticket for Jordan’s graduation was reserve a hotel close by so that she could have her privacy.  She needed, however, to stay one night in order to check up on Adam, which she’d done successfully.  Claire’s mistake, she now realized, was bringing her backpack and journal with her.  Jordan had a mix of intrigue and pomposity on her face, but maybe this wasn’t the absolute worst thing in the world.

The two girls remained frozen in the dark, silent living room for a few moments.

“Well?” Jordan said.

“Well what?” Claire replied.

“I said….tell me about all this injection stuff.”

“I’m shrinking people and injecting them into women.” Claire said matter of factly.

Jordan’s face twisted into confusion and disappointment…and also a tinge of hope.

“That’s insane…you’re making it up.”

Claire sighed, scooting away from the armrest and planting her head on her white pillow.  “You’re right.  I’m making it all up..good job on getting to the bottom of this.” Claire stuffed her sock-clad feet back under the covers and started pulling them up her body.

I’m going back to bed.”

“No, stop.  You’re trying to trick me.”

Claire rolled her eyes, reaching for her bag.  She opened the combo lock and retrieved her journal.  “Page 18…” Claire said, tossing the journal toward Jordan.

Claire yawned as Jordan flipped through the pages and then squinted.

“What are these? Hieroglyphics?”

Claire rolled her eyes, “I forgot you graduated in business administration.  Jeez, did you forget everything I tutored you on in high school?”

“You never taught me this crap.  It's like chemistry and other weird stuff.”

“Well, that weird stuff is my mathematical proof of concept for size reduction.” Claire said.

Jordan resumed flipping through the pages, probably trying to find some pictures that would be easier for her to process.  Her eyes widened on one particular page.

“Adam Benson?” Jordan said in disbelief.  “As in my dad??  Oh my god…there’s his address.  Why is my dad in here?”

“Cause I shrunk him.”

“Seriously?” Jordan questioned in disbelief.

Claire was preparing for Jordan to flip off her handle.  That was fine with Claire…she’d find a way to smooth this over enough to safely leave, even if it meant ending this relationship.  But not even Claire saw what was coming next.

“That’s…..AWESOME!” Jordan hissed in an excited whisper.

“Wait…you’re not mad?” Claire asked, sitting up on the couch and swinging her feet under her butt.

“Why would I be mad?” Jordan continued leafing through the pages.  “He’s the biggest creep ever; I’m pretty sure he cheated on my mom…in fact..yeah, you confirmed that back in the day!”

“Right, I remember.”

“He broke my mom’s heart, ya know.  He ruined our family.”

Claire was starting to get bored.

“I mean…mom’s happy enough with Amina now I guess but still….I could never forgive him for what he’s done.  I haven’t seen him in years and I don’t ever want to again.”

“Sure..no one would blame you for feeling that way probably.” Claire said half-heartedly.

Jordan’s lips pursed and she gasped sharply.  Claire couldn’t help but find amusement in how long it took the girl to finally get there.

“Wait….” Jordan said, “...when you started tutoring me back in high school…when you were giving my mom those weird injections in her boob…”

“Whatever you’re thinking right now…you’re right.”

“You’re telling me that for the past 4 or 5 years, my dad…has been tiny and living inside my mom’s boob?!”

“It’s kinda poetic, don’t you think?” Claire said with a giggle.

Jordan was quiet for a few moments and then her stone cold expression cracked.  A giant smile sprouted on her lips, her eyes lit up, and Claire was startled to see Jordan burst out laughing.  “I’ll say!  That’s fucking hilarious!”

“Holy cow, weirdo..” Claire said, looking upstairs, “You’re going to wake up your mom.”

“Does my mom know?”

“No…and it's probably best that we don’t..you know..tell her. We shouldn’t tell anyone, actually.”

“Why not?”

“Umm…” Claire over-emphasized the action of stroking her chin as if she were in deep thought, “Oh I know! Cause your pervert dad didn’t exactly volunteer to get injected into your mom’s huge tit, Captain Obvious.”

Jordan rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Okay..well…..I won’t tell anyone…but….”

It was Claire’s turn to roll her eyes.

“...you’ve gotta do something for me first.”

Claire sighed, “I probably won’t do it…but what is it?”

Jordan hopped up and crossed her legs indian style on the loveseat, resting her forearms on her thighs.  “I want you to take my dad out.”

“What?  Why?”

“Well, first off..he doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near my mom..definitely not in her boob.”

“Hmmm…” Claire stroked her chin for real this time.  “It actually would be a really good opportunity to evaluate him. Nobody’s spent more time inside a breast than your dad…” Claire chucked a little bit, except for Tom.”

“Who’s Tom?”

Claire’s eyes were somewhere else as she giggled into her open hand.  When Claire returned from wherever her mind had taken her during her warm-hearted reminiscence of the almost certainly Korean-fluent Tom, she answered Jordan’s question.

“No one, that’s not important right now.  Anyway…yeah, I think I can take your dad out. I’ll just have to get your mom to agree to let me jab her boob one more time.”

Jordan’s arms were crossed over her chest.  Her playful smirk now more closely resembled a frown.

“Ya know….” She started, “I’m still…like…REALLY mad at him for what he did.  For how he broke our family apart.  It wasn’t just mom that he fucked over ya know…and I…I want to pay him back.”

“What do you mean? Like, punish him?”

“Yeah, a full day…to start with..” Jordan said with a straight face.

“Oh, you are evil!  Okay, I’ll try and extract him tomorrow afternoon but I may need your help getting your mom to let me…and I’ll give him to you tomorrow night after I’m done with evaluating him.”

“Perfect.” It was all Claire said.

“Yeah, and then you’ll give him back to me.”

“Back to you?” Jordan asked, her head tilted.  “Why would I do that?”

“Ummm….because he’s mine, that’s why.” Claire said firmly.

“Excuse me…but he’s MY dad.”

“Okay?  And what does that mean? He’s MY experiment.” Claire argued.

Jordan let out a dissatisfied groan, “Keep it down, will ya?  You’re going to wake my mom and Amina up.  Let’s continue this in the dining room.”

Claire and Jordan took their seats.

“Okay, where were we?” Jordan asked.

“We were saying that YOUR dad is MY experiment, which means he belongs to me.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “Fine…but…well, what are you going to do with him?”

“I dunno..” Claire said sincerely.  “Probably take him back to Cali with me.  I’ve got a few girls back home that would be happy to adopt him, if you know what I mean. Maybe I'll even let him pick.”

“I don’t care about that.” Jordan said, sighing dramatically.  “I’m talking about your evaluation thingy.”

“Oh. Well, there’s this one theory I have that involves pheromonal and lipid reprogramming.  I was going to test it out on one of my year-long injectables..but it’d be very silly of me to turn down a chance to test it on a five-year injectable instead.”

“What’s pheromonal and lipid reprogramming? Pheromonal is like smell stuff, right?”

“Basically, yes. There’s a good chance that your dad has more or less formed a biological link to your mom.  He’s been living inside her body…off her body..completely dependent on her.”

“Like a parasite.” Jordan said, her upper lip curling with contempt.

“Pretty close, yeah.”  Claire mostly agreed and continued. “One of the strongest, most vivid senses is our sense of smell so…hmmm…..I haven’t ironed out all the details of it just yet so I may have to make some stuff up as I go but…I’m thinking…that I’ll contain him within one of Amina’s dirty socks and then one of your mom’s socks.”

Jordan’s hand rushed to her mouth to cover a giggle, “Ew! That’s gross!”

“Well, if my calculations are correct, your dad will only half-agree with you on that!  I expect him to become incredibly stressed and panicked while confined within Amina’s sock and then much more relaxed and calm while in your mom’s sock.”

“I don’t think it's going to work out the way you think it will.” Jordan said, “My dad hates feet.”

“Even better to test my theory!” Claire exclaimed, “I’m guessing that your dad is a changed man..or whatever you want to call him now…at least when it comes to Evette.”

Jordan leaned over and reached down, hooking a thumb in between her ankle and the cotton of her sock, sliding it off her foot.

“Well, if you want to be thorough, you can always toss him into one of my socks, too!” Jordan offered , lifting the sock up to the table’s surface.  It was a pristine white ankle-length sock with bright orange little hearts and a rim of bright orange trim up at the mouth.

Claire smiled, “That’s actually a really good idea.  Maybe I’ll throw my hat in the ring too, so to speak!”

Both girls giggled loudly.

“I think I’ll have to grow him back a little bit.  I don’t remember how little I made him but it's seriously REALLY small.  Way too small to even be able to measure his responses, let alone see him without a friggin’ microscope.”

“How about a centimeter tall?” Jordan asked abruptly.

“I think that’s perfect. Big enough to interact with him and small enough to REALLY hate being in our socks!”

“Okay, so what’s the order going to be when we–”

Claire’s focus was broken from Jordan when she saw a figure coming from the shadows of the dark living room.

Jordan turned her head, having must have seen the piqued interest in the dirty blonde’s eyes and the two girls got an eye full of Amina’s modest cleavage right before she tightened her fingers over the lapelles of her robe.

Apparently she’d come down to get a drink or something, which Claire couldn’t exactly take issue with seeing as it was Amina’s house.  The woman made small talk with her and Jordan, got a little nosey, and then returned back upstairs.

“Do you think she was wearing anything under that robe?”

Jordan’s upper lip curled, “Eww..my stepmom? I have no idea.”

The wheels in Claire’s head were turning.

~