Behold. Advanced cringe.
Victim Chain (Jump one, Victim Girls. Setting one, Dead or Alive)
Predator
Inhuman 200
Fatalpulse Experience
Overtly Lewd 50
Work Hard 100
Weasel Of A Man
Look Of The Hawk
Manly Musk 50
Nice Guy 100
Gender Supremacy 200
Alpha 300
Parasitical Love 300
Cooking Kings
Home Tattoo Kit
Human Industries (100)
Traitorous Whore (300)
Slave Harem 100
Victim Chain
Victim Boys (Futadom) As a side effect of guys being valid targets for Victim-ing, pretty much every guy is going to lean towards being a femboy
Man Eaters +200
Girl Power +200
>Germany
>Underground Facility
>Doatek Genetic Biolab
A scientist hits a button on a control panel and a number of pillars begin to rise from the floor. Steam and pneumatics hiss as they rise, revealing tubes full of glowing green goop and female bodies. Or perhaps the female body might be more accurate, as all of them are identical. This is a cloning facility after all.
"Doctor Catherine Fletcher present and starting the recording and performing basic analysis of models 138 through 149. Also present is Doctor James Herald and three security models."
Around the edge of the room, three identical women stand motionless. Their eyes flicker about, observing everything. Despite technically being failures, they're still stronger than a normal person and so valued as such - turning them into living security cameras that can't think to disobey is a particularly reprehensible act, but it saves money. They've already killed two interns who were accepting bribes from other scientists to sabotage certain projects.
"Models 141, 143, and 144 are growing unevenly, but biometrics indicate no problems. Model 148... is..."
The woman looks the 148th clone of Subject K up and down. It's abnormally tall. Nearly thirty centimeters taller than its 'sisters' and closer to fifty taller than Fletcher herself. And with its larger frame it has larger breasts as well. The Alphas aren't exactly short to begin with, making this one nearly gigantic in her opinion. Her gaze drifts downward and she can't help but swallow as her mouth goes dry at the sight of the other notable mutation.
"...heavily deviant from expected projections. Herald. HERALD."
Behind her, her partner is engrossed in readouts and miscellaneous data about the clones. Rates of absorption of nutrients, oxygen levels in the tanks, all the things they're supposed to keep track of. A more scientific examination of things than her basic visual one. He jerks his head upwards at her call, and she jams a thumb towards 148. He looks it over and begins to frown.
"Why does it have a penis?"
"I can only assume the sample was tainted somehow. Which we'll need to track down."
"What? Why?"
"If it turns out to be defective we need to know who is responsible. If it turns out to be enhanced, we need to know if we can replicate it."[Expand Post] "...Right. Let's see what the system has to say about things."
Fletcher's eyes linger on the clone for a moment longer before she steps away from the stasis tubes. It's large. Too large. Her thoughts drift briefly to past boyfriends and purchased toys in an unfavorable comparison before she forces herself to focus on the task at hand. She needs to figure out how this happened, so she joins her colleague by the computer systems, diving into incident reports and survey logs as they try to figure things out.
"...I think I found it. This sample wasn't officially taken, it was collected from the environment during a breach."
"Meaning?"
"Someone mopped up a pool of blood on the ground."
"So there's no telling what could have caused the mutation. Someone else might have bleed there, or some chemical caused just the right amount of damage."
"Pretty much."
"So what do we do?"
"...Call Donovan. Ask what he wants done. This isn't our fault, so the only thing that matters is handling things properly."
A phone is picked up, and a call placed. Orders are given, and soon a man stands in front of the anomaly. He's thin and lanky, with a black mask over his face. He gives an order, and the two scientists make preparations to decant the clone. Strictly speaking this is far ahead of schedule, but with its anomalous growth, it can probably survive things.
This is where things go strange. Most clones at this point are either unresponsive or blank and obedient. This one is neither. For starters, it stands on its own. Stumbles its way out of the tank and remains standing, but also doesn't acknowledge either of them for a moment. The indoctrination attempts have clearly failed.
"Alpha-122, subdue Alpha-148."
The man in the black mask's voice is cold, but also eager. This is new and unprecedented, and a good sign thus far. Naturally, expecting a fresh clone to even barely hold its own against an older model is unlikely, but if it does have superior statistics then it might be possible.
A rush of air bursts forth. Neither of the scientists can see it, but one of the security clones has launched themselves at the anomaly. They flinch back, and as they open their eyes back up they see the clone folded in half against the anomalies outstretched foot.
It had countered. It had predicted the attack?
The clone drops to the ground and doesn't get back up. The anomaly watches it for a moment, and then turns its gaze towards the two scientists and the madman who was their boss. A shiver runs down Fletcher's spine at the display of power. The clones weren't weak by any means. Yet the anomaly had just utterly dominated that one in a single blow...
"Fascinating! Excellent! Enough raw power to put down one of the alphas in a single blow, and the skills to actually do so. You just became my new favorite. Fletcher, Herald, it's a bit large but get it some clothes. Don't bother with programming, I can see the intelligence in its eyes. Walk it around the lab, let's see how quickly it picks up on things."
"...Hnnn."
The three of them pause momentarily at the noise of half-agreement coming from the clone, and the man in the black mask practically skips out after a few moments of discussion. The two scientists, by comparison, are less pleased to be left alone with it. Her. Him? Where HAD that particular mutation come from.
"Ah... Herald, if you'll clean up and do something with 122, I'll handle clothing?"
"Deal"
"Um. This way please, 148?"
Fletcher motions towards one of the doors and takes a few steps before pausing. The anomaly watches for a few seconds, and then moves to follow. She jerks, almost wanting to run away, but manages to calm herself and leads the clone towards what passes for a laundry room in this underground base. Clothes suitable for the Alpha clones are kept en masse, but with the exaggerated frame... There are a few odds and ends that are oversized enough to fit, but not a proper outfit.
The end result is a button up shirt that isn't closed and a pair of sweatpants that should have been loose but are quite tight on the anomalies frame. And that highlights the sheer size of the penis it has for no good reason. The anomaly seems vaguely displeased by things, which is fair, but there's nothing Fletcher can do. The anomaly is too tall. Too muscled. Too... everything. Fear flashes through her every time it moves. The scent doesn't help. The chemical and nutrient slurry that the clones are suspended in as they cook is healthy, for a certain definition of healthy, but it doesn't smell great. And the anomaly somehow smells worse than that. Possibly a result of absorbing more of one kind of vitamin from the mixture, throwing off the balance? Not important right now.
"Sorry, sorry. Things are more or less standard issue, and you aren't. I'll place a special order immediately for something more appropriate."
Half out of desire to do just that and half out of desire to get away from the anomaly before she does something stupid, she turns to leave and puts a hand on the door. Her heart nearly stops as the anomaly places its own hand over hers, somehow having moved behind her without her noticing, and effectively pinning her in place.
Fletcher twitches slowly for a moment as she lets out a shaky breath.
"...Please move."
The anomaly doesn't respond. Instead, it snakes its other hand around her body and grasps around one of her tits. It's a rough thoughtless grab, the kind only an idiot would do. But the fact that the anomalies hand is so big, grabs so much, somehow it feels good anyways. She gasps and tries to stutter out another demand, only for another rough squeeze to steal her breath. The anomaly does take its hand off hers, but it hooks a finger into the top of her shirt and drags down. Buttons pop as thread meets enhanced musculature and flesh, and fails.
It's stripping her. Why is it stripping her? Fletcher lets out another shaky gasp as the finger hits her panties and starts to pull forwards. A few seconds later her clothing is in ruins, barely clinging to her body. Something meaty slaps against her ass and her mind goes blank. Oh. That's why.
Fletcher turns her head slightly, just barely able to see the anomalies face. It's smiling at her faintly. Kindly. Tenderly. But also so utterly confident. Her heart skips a beat. She doesn't want this. She doesn't. But she's also not being given a choice, is she? ...Why does that make her feel better about this?
"Please do-"
The hand that stripped her plunges back towards her body. Pushes into her body. Her mind goes blank as her legs give out from underneath her. Something wet hits the ground and the weight of her own body forces those fingers even further into her.
It feels good.
Pull, shift, spreaaaaad, the fingers dance inside of her. It feels wonderful. The other hand, still clamped around her breasts pulls her upwards and it hurts so much but it also feels amazing. The fingers leave her and if she could speak, Fletcher would be for them to be put back. But she can't. Can't control herself right now. But it doesn't matter anyways, because the meaty thing on her ass moves to just under her pussy.
Doctor Catherine Fletcher, a scientist of DOATEC who is perhaps not a genius but certainly no fool, looks down at herself. She's suspended in the air by the anomaly by one of her tits, balanced precariously on top of its far too large cock. She should scream. Tell it not to do this. But she can't, because she wants it. The anomaly isn't too large. It's the perfect size to treat her like a toy. It's not too muscular. Without them it wouldn't be able to manhandle her like this. It hurts so bad but it feels so good.
The pain in her breast disappears and she drops downwards. The massive cock, larger than anything she'd ever seen before, disappears inside of her in an instant as she starts to cum her brains out from the wonderful abuse.