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Chapter Twenty-one: The Physical
Dr. Rebecca Swell had once been a darling of the scientific community. By the age of 25 she held advanced degrees in biology and chemistry. Finding work had been no problem, and though she was approached and sought after by several companies, research labs, and government entities, she'd found herself working in the research department of a large pharmaceutical company.
Unfortunately, she was also overeager, and had no regard for protocol or process. When it was discovered that she had initiated human trials on some questionable drugs of her own design, the fallout was swift. To avoid any kind of scandal, she was quietly dismissed from her post, but soon found herself blackballed by everyone who had previously courted her.
The problem with Rebecca Swell lay in the fact that she was a horny and dominant bitch. Dr. Swell loved sex. Not in the way that some people love chocolate, or puppies. It was an obsession that dominated her life. It wasn't that Dr. Swell loved having sex, though she did. It was that she simply could not understand how there were people in this world that did not, and it was her life's mission to see that the world devolved into debauchery, animal lust, and eroticism. She particularly enjoyed sexual domination. The way some people submitted themselves to any and all kind of debasement at the hands of someone that they perceived to be a more dominant sexual force in their lives.
Those people, in the opinion of Dr. Swell, were far too few. Her particular branch of research focused on altering those individuals through the use of DNA, hormone, and chemical alteration. Making sluts with science, she had joked on more than one occasion. Shortly after finding herself unemployed, with a generous severance package to pay for her silence, she had been contacted by another researcher who had similar thoughts to her own. Enter Dr. Paul Carlson.
Carlson himself was far more reserved with his research. He was a stickler for process on the surface, but in reality, he was just much better at hiding his activities behind a curtain of legitimacy. Through his own contacts, he'd learned of Dr. Swell's interests, her falling out with the broader scientific community, and he'd been very happy to reach out to her and bring her into the fold.
Laying out his plans for the NewYou Clinic, he'd been able to persuade her (rather easily) to get involved. She would have free reign to develop her project as she saw fit, provided it fit within the overall goal of the clinic. That goal was to turn young, more conservative women into young sluts. It was Carlson's opinion that the world (mostly the male population thereof) could seriously benefit from starting young adult women on the path to slutdom as soon as possible.
Over the course of a few years, their methods had been fine-tuned to include psychological conditioning, DNA, hormone, and body modification, as well as reinforcement of "appropriate" behaviors. Though there had been no shortage of young, attractive, troubled teens through the doors of NewYou over the last two years, Tori Hamlin was absolutely the best.
She was flawless, perfect, exceptional. She was stunning. Her body and her looks evoked the kind of sexual arousal that most women only dream of. The kicker was that she had no idea of her effect on both men and women. She was innocent to a fault, a truly good girl and wonderful person. Corrupting her would be the professional challenge, and accomplishment of a lifetime.
On the previous evening, as Dr. Swell fed Tori her pills and pushed the needle into her perfect ass, she could hardly contain her excitement. Of course, she had lied about both the pills and the injection. The pills were a powerful aphrodisiac, designed for the short term. The injection would take a little longer, as it was designed to rewrite some of her genetic code.
Over time, as it worked, it would increase Tori's hormone production, substantially increase her libido, halt her egg production, and make certain areas of her body much more sensitive to pleasure. Her pheromone production would kick into overdrive, making everyone around her extremely attracted to her. The overall effect was that she would live out her life in a near-constant state of sexual arousal, prevent pregnancy, and any pleasure she received in her erogenous zones would be heightened incredibly. She'd also attract people like a magnet, and they'd all want a piece of her.
The Recoder, as Dr. Swell had come to call it, was only a tool, though. Tori would still need extensive reinforcement on her psyche if she was ever going to accept the new feelings that were going to run rampant through her body. The most delicious part of it was that she would always retain her own personality. In her mind, she would always want to be the same good and wholesome girl, but the terrible urges she'd experience would leave her with a constant sense of guilt and humiliation. Those same feelings, though, would only heighten her arousal, making her body demand more sexual attention.
Dr. Swell was prepping her exam table as poor Tori was escorted through the doors of the examination room by an orderly. She was now dressed in the same light blue scrubs as all the rest of the girls.
"Good morning, Tori," Dr. Swell said cheerfully, "How did you sleep?"
"Okay, I guess," she said sleepily. It was clear she hadn't slept much at all.
"Did you make it to the cafeteria for breakfast?"
Tori shook her head. She'd still been too frightened to leave her room. She hadn't eaten anything since yesterday morning, but she'd kept drinking water, like the doctor told her to. And she needed to pee, a lot.
"Well, when we finish up here, I can take you down to the cafeteria myself, and get you something to eat, okay? You can't neglect your health, you know,"
"Okay,"
Dr. Swell motioned to the exam table. It looked like one of those tables in a chiropractor's office, with a hole at the head where she could put her face, while she lay on her stomach. It was covered in the same white paper that all doctors covered exam tables in. The table sat at about waist height.
"Can you sit on the table for me please? I'm just going to check you out a little bit,"