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The room was spacious, encompassing a carefully organized layout designed to facilitate the complex and highly secretive experiments conducted within its walls. The positive air pressure that had made opening the door difficult now assisted Dr. Becotte in assuring that it was sealed shut and secure behind her.  The air hummed with a low, constant vibration of advanced machinery.  Dr. Becotte had often called it “the soundtrack of scientific progress”.


Dominating the lab were several large, custom-built workstations, each equipped with a range of state-of-the-art instruments and specialized equipment. Microscopes with high-resolution imaging capabilities decorated each workstation, allowing for detailed examination of the miniature reproductive systems. A young latina woman dutifully moved between the sink and the workstations, meticulously arranging glassware, pipettes, and delicate surgical tools at each station.


The young latina woman looked up from the sink and smiled.


“Hello, Dr. Becotte.”


Dr. Becotte shot a smile and friendly wave, continuing deeper into the technologically dense labspace.  She normally would have chatted with Jenn for a few moments, having not seen her since last night but the ever-ticking clock informed her that she now only had 27 minutes until she’d have to surrender subject–318j to Brandi for his first acclimation session.


It was clear that Jenn understood Dr. Becotte’s non-verbal communication and that perceptive synchronicity between the two of them was one of the many reasons Dr. Becotte was happy to have Jenn as an assistant.


The lab's walls were lined with whiteboards covered in excitedly scribbled equations from team meetings as well as surface-mounted electronic displays depicting intricate diagrams, data charts, and research findings. They served as visual guides, tracking the progress of ongoing experiments, and enabling collaboration and brainstorming among the team members.


She continued on past the central island in the middle of the lab, referred to by Dr. Becotte’s team as “The Heart”. The Heart housed a state-of-the-art bioinformatics and computational genomics analysis module.  A large LED display pointed in each cardinal direction, the four screens alive with complex simulations, genetic analyses, and virtual, interactive models of both the male and female reproductive systems. Dr. Becotte would spend half of her time here, unraveling the intricacies and establishing ambitious theories and paths forward as they relate to post-RT subject fertility and reproductive compatibility.

She pulled out a chair and took a seat at one of the workstations that Jenn had already finished preparing and set the subject down on the counter. He stared up at Dr. Becotte with a mixture of fascination and trepidation on his face and shaking hands covering his genitals.  Dr. Becotte was unphased and unresponsive, scribbling some notes into her sky-blue notebook and occasionally clocking his location with her peripheral vision to make sure he didn’t wander off.


Dr. Becotte set her pen down along the spine of her notebook and reached into the tray of the microscope to retrieve a clean glass slide.  She set it down in front of the confused, trembling subject who was still covering his treasured anatomy.


Obviously that wouldn’t last.


“Good afternoon, subject-318j.” Dr. Becotte said, folding her hands on the tabletop.


He was quiet for a moment and it wasn’t until Dr. Becotte raised a single dark eyebrow that the thought of responding to her even occurred to him.


“Who are you?  What am I doing here?” subject-318j asked.


“Well, THAT is a great question with so many possible answers…” Dr. Becotte replied playfully, opening the blue manilla folder she’d received from Allison when signing out the subject.  “...but the simplest answer I can give you right now is that you’re here to help me.”


“Help you with what?” subject-318j asked cautiously.


“Oh, I just need a specimen sample.” Dr. Becotte replied innocently, shuffling a few strands of blonde hair from her eyeline and.  She scooted the thin microscope slide so close to the subject that he was forced to step up on top of it or fall onto it.  When his hands rushed out to his sides to find balance, Dr. Becotte’s cat-like eyes managed to steal a quick look.


He was still soft. That was okay.


‘Although…’ Dr. Becotte thought, looking at her wrist watch.  ‘...time stops for no woman.’


Beneath a mane of beautiful blonde hair, Dr. Becotte’s ears twitched as if she were a predator alerted to the weak sound of nearby prey.


He was speaking to her again.


“I….I have a phobia of needles…and I…don’t think I could survive one at this..size..” subject-318j stammered.


Dr. Becotte smiled, “Oh, don’t worry!  You’re not giving me a blood sample.  You’re giving me a semen sample.”


She saw the shock on his face, typical of just about every subject that came before him and likely every subject after him. Sometimes it was fun to lean into it, but Dr. Becotte was working with limited time, so things had to move along quickly.


“If you could get started, that would be great.” Dr. Becotte said, removing one of the forms from the stack of papers in the blue manilla folder . Her eyes came back up from her work to see the subject standing motionless on the slide, still clutching his privates.


Dr. Becotte raised an eyebrow, extending the end of her pen and gently hooking it between the subject’s abdomen and right hand.  With careful, gentle pressure, she forced his hand away from his member, revealing a soft penis.


“Hmmm….” Dr. Becotte thought out loud.  “You’re not going to give me any problems, are you subject-318j?”


She had a specialized tool for such occasions.


Dr. Becotte looked over at the semen extraction tool behind the oblivious subject. It had two ends, one of which was a vibrating probe and the other end was a miniature suction device that fed a tiny reservoir.  The vibrating probe end was inserted into the subject’s rectum while the other end was adhered to the tip of the subject’s penis.  The device granted its controller the ability to not only impart an erection on the subject but also force an orgasm.


There were two problems, however, with the semen extraction device:  first problem, forcibly extracting semen from the subject proved to result in an inferior quantity of specimen as compared to voluntary secretion.  The larger problem was time.  It would take too long to install the semen extraction device.  In fact, under Dr. Becotte’s watchful eye, Jenn learned the hard way that rushing through inserting the probes could destroy the subject if inserted too deep or the vibration and suction settings set too high.


Luckily, the subject seemed to feel intimidated enough by Dr. Becotte’s raised eyebrow and stern gaze to slowly and reluctantly began stroking his genitals.


Dr. Becotte sifted through the documents in the blue manilla folder and found a few printed photographs of the Participant to whom subject-318j was going to be assigned.


There were several photographs of her buttocks from a variety of angles, some taken from the lab on the day of her screening and others posted proudly for the world to see on social media. Dr. Becotte smiled when she came to the last photograph, which was taken from the Participant’s social media during their preliminary social media background check.



‘Oh, I remember her.’ Dr. Becotte thought.


Her name was Joy Redmond. Like most candidate Participants, Joy was skeptical of the experiment, remarking in less professional terms that getting paid to keep a size-reduced male buried between her buttocks for several hours a day sounded ‘too good to be true’. However, unlike most women who were looking for a quick and easy paycheck, there was something special about Joy.  She agreed wholeheartedly to the terms of gluteal confinement, objecting in no way to the idea of the subject residing in her rear but Dr. Becotte detected something else in her tone.  A unique tone of maturity beyond her years and uncommon compassion beyond her tough appearance.  There was something else that motivated her to take on this responsibility.


Dr. Becotte heard a light whimper. She looked over the top of the photograph down to the subject.


His hand circled and pumped a semi-soft penis.


Dr. Becotte couldn’t help but roll her eyes, glancing at her watch again.  She was running out of time.  She got an idea, holding up the photograph of Joy Redmond for the tiny subject to view.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Dr. Becotte asked.


She could see in subject-318j’s widening eyes and stiffening penis that he agreed.


“The sooner you finish providing me with your sample, the sooner I can send you home.”


Dr. Becotte found amusement in the fact that he’d find out very soon that his understanding and her understanding of ‘his home’ were quite different.


The pumping of his tiny hand intensified and Dr. Becotte leaned in attentively to watch, but seconds turned to a full minute and then she sighed deeply as she watched his stiff penis begin to deflate.


“Are you kidding me?” Dr. Becotte grumbled under her breath as she sat back in her chair. It was just her luck that she’d grab a subject with performance anxiety.


“Please….I’m trying..I just…I just want to go home…” subject-318j stuttered as he continued to pump his softening genitalia.


Dr. Becotte sighed with exasperation, realizing that she may have wasted her time with this one. She was skimming through the subject’s documentation, preparing to return him to the SSF, when her eyes connected with some potentially useful information about his interests.


‘Oh god, another one…’ Dr. Becotte thought, trying her best not to roll her eyes.


Actually….


…this was actually a good thing.


“Justin…” Dr. Becotte uttered in a low, whispery voice.  His ears immediately perked up.


“I know you’re having a hard time..but you’re doing better than any other subject in your position. Did you know that?”


It most certainly was not true and Dr. Becotte’s patience was wearing thin but the subject stared up with wonder in his eyes, appearing moved by Dr. Becotte’s lie.  Dr. Becotte untied the laces on her left sneaker and slid her sock-clad foot from its confines. She had to lean in order to reach, fully aware that her cotton-clad breasts were now pressing against the surface of the table.


The subject appeared fully aware as well.


Dr. Becotte followed his gaze down to her perky breasts splayed out atop the tabletop and then shot an aloof smile…as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing.


The beautiful blonde doctor maintained eye contact with the intrigued and confused subject as she hooked a thumb into the band of her left sock and peeled it down her foot.  As the cold air of the lab kissed her bare toes, Dr. Becotte raised her left hand above the table top, revealing one of her socks. The blue stripes that circled the black sock may as well have been markings etched on a talisman that the attentive subject would have followed to oblivion. It was just a sock to her, but she proudly confirmed that his penis was stiffening again and the speed of his pumps intensified.


She raised the sock to her face and breathed in through her nose. The scent left behind on the well worn sock was the pleasantly strong aroma of her Madagascar Vanilla Bliss foot lotion with subtle, accruing notes of her foot’s natural aroma.  Judging from the excerpt in his file, Dr. Becotte was confident that subject-318j would love the opportunity to appreciate the blonde doctor’s choice in foot lotion.

She gently draped the well-worn sock next to the subject standing on the slide and his eyes practically bulged from his head.


“Do you like the scent, Justin?  It’s Madagascar Vanilla Bliss.” Dr. Becotte beamed proudly, “...and me.


She tilted her head and smiled down at him. “Which do you like better?”


She didn’t particularly care which scent he liked better, but she wanted to remind him that the worn sock only inches from him had been hugging her foot since 6am this morning.


It was working like a charm.


“You’re doing so well, Justin! I need you to go even faster, okay? Do you think that you could do that for me, Justin?” Dr. Becotte asked, affectionate and encouragement dripping from a voice composed more of whispery, seductive breath than vocal chords.


Dr. Becotte observed that subject-318j responded quite well to her strategy of positive reinforcement and the pleasant aroma of her feet.


“I need it, Justin.  I need it so, sooooooo bad.” Dr. Becotte whined with dramatic over-emphasis, her thick lower lip pouting to an extent she considered comical but it apparently was pushing the simple, increasingly predictable mind of subject-318j to new platforms of ecstasy.


Dr. Becotte could tell he was close, but there were still opportunities to increase the magnitude of the ever-growing and ever-approaching sample.  The beautiful blonde doctor brushed her wavy hair off her shoulders and leaned back, relaxing into the backrest of her chair.  Dr. Becotte maintained full eye contact with the subject as she lifted her left leg into the air and gently rested her bare heel directly atop her black and blue striped sock.  She almost laughed at the way subject-318j responded.  His tiny naked body trembled as he stared up at the monolithic bare foot, his grip on his penis tightened, and the pumping became frantic.


Dr. Becotte wiggled her short, chubby toes that stood atop what must have looked like a godlike monument of heel and soft, smooth sole to the subject.  She wondered if he could see the cute toe ring decorating her middle toe.  A smirk spread across her face as she herself took just a moment to appreciate how the pale pink jewel glimmered in the light.  It was a delightful coincidence that she’d decided to wear this toe ring today. More serendipitous was the fact that of all the jewels compatible with this toe ring, she’d selected the pale pink jewel to thread onto the tiny metal foot jewelry.  This toe ring and especially the pale pink jewel had proved useful in the past in a very different way when it came to the handling and care of subjects.


Dr. Becotte’s eyes danced between her wiggling toes and subject-318j’s reaction, her face a theatrical, forced mixture of fascination and joy as if it were both of them exploring and experiencing the gorgeous doctor’s body for the first time.


Dr. Becotte leaned in closer to him while also allowing her left foot to turn outward to rest on its outward edge.  Her pinky toe touched the same tabletop that the subject’s slide rested upon and he barely stood taller than her middle toe.  If he didn’t see the beautiful toe ring, he definitely saw it now.


The beautiful blonde doctor gently closed her hand around her ankle and slowly shifted the foot closer to the masturbating subject.  She could see a longing in his eyes.  A longing that was probably always there but most men have the resolve and constitution to keep hidden.  Dr. Becotte was chipping away at that resolve to get what she wanted.


She was overwhelming him.


She knew that.


She kept going.


Dr. Becotte pressed the long side of her index finger into the natural curl of her toes where they met the pad of her foot.


“You could fit so nicely here, dontcha think?” Dr. Becotte teased as she scrunched her chubby toes down, completely concealing her index finger.  “Wouldn’t you like to cuddle up with my soft vanilla toes?”

The beautiful blonde doctor let out an authentic chuckle as the subject’s knees nearly gave out.  It was so amusing to see something as innocuous and normal as her bare left foot exerting so much power and control over the little subject.  She squinted to see if he had achieved orgasm but there was no specimen yet.


He was so close…and with all this hard work the load would be substantial for sure.


“Keep doing it, Justin!  I can tell you’re soooo close!  I can tell you’re ready to explode.  You want to explode for me!”


She wiggled her toes closer to the subject, the underside of her big toe close enough for him to touch…and he did.


The stimulation pushed him over the edge as his mouth widened and the miniature veins in his neck bulged. The subject had reached orgasm and was now ejaculating onto the slide beneath him.

“Yes!  Yes!  You’re doing it, Justin!  Oh, keep going! I need ALL OF IT!  ALL OF IT, Justin!” Dr. Becotte cheered, encouraging subject-318j to pump every droplet of semen out onto the glass slide.

The subject was still masturbating despite the flow of semen stopping several pumps ago. Satisfied that she’d extracted from him as much as she was going to get, Dr. Becotte’s barefoot retreated from the table top. She stretched the mouth of her vanilla-fragrant sock and wiggled her five toes in. Nestled back in the vanilla cotton, Dr. Becotte stuffed her sock-clad foot back into her sneaker. The doctor dismissively shooed the subject off the slide with her left hand and lifted it to her eyeline with her right hand.


Dr. Becotte carefully examined the load.


It was small but for a subject of his diminutive size, the volume was more than acceptable.


A gasping and trembling subject-318j reached out to touch a finger on Dr. Becotte’s resting left hand. Dr. Becotte did not lean into the subject’s touch nor did she push him away.


She completely ignored him.


Dr. Becotte had already inserted the slide into the microscope and was examining the specimen when she heard the subject’s feeble voice asking if he could go home now. There was impatience and annoyance in the beautiful blonde doctor’s eyes when she lifted her face from the microscope to look down at the gasping, trembling subject. “Jenn!” Dr. Becotte said loudly enough for the intern to hear.  The young latina intern approached and she locked eyes with the concerned, confused subject.


“Can you take subject-318j back to SSF-2 and sign him back in with Allison?  He’s got an acclimation session appointment with Brandi in a few minutes.”


“Sure thing, Dr. Becotte.” Jenn said.


Dr. Becotte had already returned her full focus to the microscope as Jenn unceremoniously scooped the spent subject into a disposable containment unit that was just large enough for his body to fit. “Shhhhh…” Jenn offered superficial, condescending comfort to the subject’s weak struggles and feeble protests as she capped the container shut and slipped it into the breast pocket of her paper-thin lab coat.


~



If you've enjoyed this story, there are many others as well as photo captioned images over at my Patreon.  The captioned images are free for the month of Novmber!

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