Weird Science

Weird Science

Stories of Erotic Experiments

 

© 2021, 2023, 2024 All These Roadworks

 

The author asserts their right to be identified as the creator of this work under the name “All These Roadworks”.

 

All images in this book, including cover art, were created by All These Roadworks.

 

All characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters involved in sexual situations are intended to be aged 18 years or over, and any implication to the contrary is an unintentional miscommunication.

 

The events and themes presented in this story are for the purpose of erotic fantasy. They are not intended to depict actual events that have happened, or should happen. The author believes firmly that real sexual relationships should only occur between consenting adults, and be built on the principles of respect, communication, honesty, and risk-aware enthusiastic consent.

alltheseroadworks.com

 

Table of Contents
 

Foreword

Agricultural Science

The Biocline Drug

Clumsy Vet

Desirable Behaviour Through Wearables

Esme’s Interrogation, Part 1

Esme’s Interrogation, Part 2

Father Lucas’ Drug

Following the Science

Food Intolerance

Four Science Projects

Happiness Therapy

Herbal Healing Clinic

Kevin’s 19th

The Special Chair

Teri’s Nipples

Vegan Milk Barn

The Whore’s Rose

Bonus: The Nightingale Institute

 

Foreword

 

It’s a fantasy, not an instruction manual.

 

The stories collected in this volume are kinky fantasies. It’s normal to fetishise the forbidden. It can be a healthy way of processing trauma or frustration from our daily lives. It can be fun, satisfying, and exciting. Don’t feel ashamed to enjoy them.

 

But it’s the responsibility of everyone – and particularly people with these fantasies – to work to create a world where everyone – and, specifically, women – are safe, respected, and able to indulge their sexuality without shame or fear, whether that means consensually engaging in wonderful fucked-up kink, or living their entire life without ever encountering it.

 

Satisfying, sustainable kink can only be built on a foundation of firm respect for boundaries, respectful communication, and positive, explicit, enthusiastic consent. That’s a world where everyone kinky will find it easier to find partners and hook up for the interactions they enjoy, and where those who aren’t interested won’t be bothered – and that includes people who might be interested, but not now, or not under these conditions, or not with you.

 

Don’t let your kinks be your politics.

 

If you don’t already have anyone to share your kinks with in real-life, get involved in your local kink scene. Join an online community. Be polite, ask what the local rules are, listen to people who know what they’re doing before you go charging in yourself, introduce yourself and be prepared to make friends before you make partners. Confidence is sexy; not being able to hear a “no” is not.

 

I’m not your manifesto, and I’m not anyone’s plan for a functional society. Read, enjoy - and then go out and be fantastic, safe, respectful kinksters.

 

===

 

Speaking of which – if you obtained this document without paying for it…

 

Writing takes time. It’s easier if I’m paid for it. Please consider visiting my website and leaving a tip; buying this story collection or a different one; or subscribing.

 

alltheseroadworks.com

 

 

Agricultural Science

 

The research program at Harvizon Agricultural Science paid very well, and Sarah needed the money. She signed an extensive set of paperwork on Monday, and turned up for her first session on Tuesday.

 

“What is this about?” she asked.

 

“We can’t tell you,” said the male researcher. “It would corrupt the data. Now, we need to inject drugs directly into your breasts. It will be quite painful. We can’t use anaesthetics, but what we’re going to get you to do is masturbate as we do it, both to create natural endorphins, and because arousal improves the effectiveness of the drugs.”

 

Blushing, she stripped, and began rubbing her pussy as they jabbed a sharp needle into each tit. They didn’t tell her to stop when they were done, so she blushingly continued until she orgasmed.

 

She came back every day and repeated the process. By the end of the week, she was used to masturbating while having needles pushed into her tits. More importantly, she was beginning to see the effects of the drugs - her tits were getting bigger.

 

At first she was pleased with the growth - they felt big and sexy, and she got approving looks from men. But as they kept growing, she began to get alarmed.

 

“Please,” she begged, as she masturbated in front of the researcher in the third week. “I want to stop. If they get any bigger my clothes won’t fit.”

 

“I’m sorry,” said the researcher, pushing the needle into her left fuck-melon. “The program demands that you continue. You signed very explicit contracts.”

 

They told her that from here on in, it was important that her breasts be in constant pain to continue stimulating the drugs. They gave her several special bras to wear, with the inside of the cup lined with sharp pins. As her tits bulged obscenely against them, the pins kept her breasts in constant agony. They told her she could masturbate to deal with the pain, and she did, keeping her pussy wet almost around the clock to make her worry about her tit growth and the pain she was experiencing go away.

 

They changed her sessions, too. Now they would begin by inspecting her pussy and anus - they would make her lie tits-down on their examination table, her newly-huge melons pressing agonisingly into her pin-bra, and spread her legs and push instruments up her vagina. Then they would let her masturbate while they injected her, and then they would whip her bare tits with a belt to give her extra pain to help the drugs work. She masturbated through this, too.

 

Her milk began to come in. She saw it leaking from her nipples, and started milking herself to relieve the pressure as it built up in her udders. The researchers would milk her too, only they used an industrial machine designed for animals. It was degrading and it hurt. Again, she masturbated through the pain.

 

As predicted, she outgrew her clothes. She was going to try and buy new ones, but instead the researchers gave her a new outfit - a black leather collar with a cowbell hanging from it, and two little chains extending, each ending in a clamp. The clamps, it turned out, went on her nipples, and hurt immensely. The chains weren’t long enough to reach the natural position of her nipples, so she had to lift her tit to make it reach, and then she would feel the entire weight of her breast pulling against the clamp, stretching her nipple. She cried the first time she put it on; she cried more when she was told she didn’t need to wear a shirt over the top and nor would they allow her to.

 

She got used to going clamped and bare-titted in public. She lost a lot of friends. She ended up fucking most of the ones she kept. Dressed as she was, they wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. They would put her on all fours and fuck her pussy violently from behind as her tits jerked back and forth beneath her, the clamps pulling at her nipples painfully on each bounce.

 

The researchers started raping her, too, using her pussy or her mouth or her anus, but always taking care to pull out and ejaculate on her tits. She was told not to clean it off, but instead massage it in - the cum was good for her breasts. She did as she was told. Her milk production increased, and her breasts grew and grew, until she realised she was never going to live a normal life again - she just looked too obscenely like a cow.

 

And a cow she was. Finally, the researchers finished a session by tattooing her left tit. The tattoo read “Property of Harvizon Agricultural Science. Alternative milk supply and sexual release for military personnel program. Grade A Milk; Grade B Cunt.” She tried to object, but they slapped her and told her to moo instead, and refused to milk her and relieve the pressure in her full tits until she obeyed. Helplessly, she said, “Moooo,” and they smiled, and one stuck his cock in her pussy while the other connected the milking machine to her tits, and her new life as a human cow began...

 

The Biocline Drug

 

The men of Biocline Laboratories faced a dilemma around their latest pharmaceutical creation - realise its commercial value? Or keep it for themselves? It was an easy choice in the end; the government was unlikely to allow the drug for public use, so the men chose to take it themselves.

 

It had the unusual effect of changing the chemical makeup of their semen - making it literally addictive.

 

They had to pay their big-titted receptionist Melissa a lot of money to suck their cocks on the first two days to test the effects, but by the third day she arrived at work with a needy look in her eyes, licking her lips, casting furtive glances at her employers’ cocks, and she agreed to suck them off even when she was told she would no longer be paid to do it. On the fourth day they just progressed to fucking whichever of her holes they felt like, letting her transfer their ejaculate from her cunt or ass to her mouth herself.

 

They soon discovered a second, unexpected side effect of the drug when Melissa’s already large tits swelled up an additional cup size and began lactating. They told her she wasn’t to milk herself, to preserve the integrity of their data, and that if she did she would be denied cum for a day. Really, they just liked the look on her face when she arrived each morning with her udders painfully full, desperate to be publicly milked into a bucket while she sucked her first cock of the day.

 

Eventually, the men decided it was time to find more test subjects. They knew Melissa had a pretty big-breasted housemate. “Take some of our cum home with you,” they told her, “and secretly mix it into her meals for the next three days. On the fourth day, stop, and when she starts to go into withdrawal, tell her to come to work with you - completely naked - if she wants more...”

 

Clumsy Vet

 

The owner of the veterinary practice hated Kate. His name was Sergei, he had been running the practice for 30 years, and in his opinion no woman was competent to be a vet, let alone one as young, pretty and big-titted as Kate.

 

But government policy required him to provide two years of work experience to a recent graduate, and Kate was the only graduate willing to move to Sergei’s remote rural community to do the work, so he was stuck with her.

 

Nevertheless, he was always looking for ways to criticise and humiliate Kate, and he found a perfect excuse on the day that Sam Collett brought in his prize Labrador bitch.

 

“Kate, you silly slut, get in here,” demanded Sergei, interrupting Kate’s work filing paperwork for the last patient. “Mr Collett needs his dog in heat to be bred to a stud. Fill a syringe with Ovanzum, and get ready to give the bitch an injection.”

 

Kate resisted an urge to respond to the demeaning order, and carefully prepared a dose of Ovanzum. Designed to send a female dog into overpowering heat for a 24 hour period, the drug was expensive and absolutely not to be wasted.

 

But as she returned to the room where Sergei had the dog waiting in a cage, she felt one of her high heels break as she put weight on it. She teetered to the side, alarmingly off balance, and flailed her arms. It wasn’t enough, though, and she slammed into the nearby wall hard – and felt a sharp pain in her right breast.

 

She looked down in alarm, and to her horror saw that she had injected *herself* with the Ovanzum. The full dose had gone straight into her breast. She felt strange, and dizzy. Her face flushed. She was aware of a tingle in her pussy.

 

“Kate, you stupid whore!” yelled Sergei angrily. He came up to her and slapped her across the face. It was shocking, and she gasped – but at the same time, she felt her nipples harden, and her cunt wetten.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Please – I need the antidote.”

 

“Get your clothes off so I can look at you,” he said. “I can’t believe your incompetence. You were supposed to inject the *valuable* bitch, not the *worthless* one.”

 

Kate pulled off her shirt and bra, revealing her breasts, to give Sergei a good look at where the needle had gone in. She blushed, being half-naked before this man she hated.

 

“And the rest,” said Sergei, unimpressed. “I need to see where it’s having an effect.”

 

This didn’t entirely make sense to Kate, but she was scared, and finding it difficult to think. She wiggled out of her skirt and panties. Her cunt was visibly wet now, and engorged and throbbing. She hoped Sergei would touch her there.

 

But instead Sergei was scooping up her clothes, and putting them into the medicine safe – the special one that only he knew the combination to. Kate was naked, with nothing to cover herself.

 

“Why did you do that?” she asked, trying to make sense of what was happening.

 

“Stupid cow,” he said. “There is no antidote to Ovanzum. You’ll have to ride it out.”

 

Kate moaned. Without realising what she was doing, she lowered a hand to her pussy and began to stroke it. Touching herself felt good… if only she could pretend Sergei wasn’t here, she could make herself feel even better…

 

Sergei slapped her hand away from her pussy, sharply, and then slapped her across the face again. “Don’t be a slut,” he told her. He then raised his knee sharply and kicked her in the cunt with it. She gasped with pain – but also with pleasure. The impact felt wonderful. She wanted him to kick her again. She wanted to hump her groin up against his hard, firm leg…

 

“Obviously, you’re fired as a vet,” he told her. “But I’m obliged to keep you in employment for two years. So we’ll have to find you a new position.”

 

“What do you mean?” she asked. She leaned towards him, pressing her tits against his chest, grinding her pussy against the front of his pants.

 

He put his hand on her face and pushed her backwards, against the wall.

 

“I’m going to give you a test in four alternative employment positions, and offer you a fifth,” he told her. “You’ll try each position, and at the end you’ll tell me which one you want to work in.” He sighed, and looked down at her pussy. “And if you’re a very good girl, I’ll let you cum.”

 

She squealed with delight at this last promise. “Thank you, sir!” she said. She had never called Sergei “sir” before – after all, she hated him – but he was being so *nice* to her by promising to let her cum. She wanted to cum *so* badly…

 

The first alternative job, it turned out, was “test subject”. Sergei got another two syringes, and injected them into her. The first went into her left breast, which hurt, but the second went into her clitoris, which hurt even more.

 

“I haven’t tried these drugs on an animal yet,” said Sergei. “Let’s see what they do to you. The one in your breast is a hormone that promotes udder growth and milk production. The one in your clitoris is a local anaesthetic, which will stop you from orgasming until it wears off.”

 

She gasped in horror – but more at the second than at the first. She still felt so horny, and when he touched her pussy to check on her clit it felt so *good* - and yet she immediately knew he was right. The nerves she needed to orgasm had been numbed. She wanted to cry.

 

As for the other one, in her breast, she soon became aware that her breasts were incredibly sensitive. The slightest touch made her want to squeal in pain. They felt swollen and over-sized. Within an hour of the injection, a thin trickle of milk began to leak from her nipples.

 

The second job, he told her, was as a “furniture improvement”. For this, he took some straps that he used to restrain animals, and used them to bind her hands behind her back. He removed a vibrator from a drawer, and pushed it into her pussy – it felt amazing – and secured it with a piece of duct tape. Then he led her to the office bathroom and made her kneel in front of the toilet.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked nervously. The vibrator in her cunt was very welcome, but this setup scared her a little.

 

“Making the toilet more comfortable,” he told her. He removed his pants in front of her, and she was surprised by the size of his cock – which was fully erect. Then he came over to the toilet and lifted the lid and the ring seat, before grabbing her large tits – oh, it hurt so much when he touched them – and placing them on the hard porcelain lip of the toilet.

 

“I don’t understand,” she said, anxiously.

 

“You will,” he said. He lowered the ring seat – heavy and ceramic – back into place, so it now rested on the upper slopes of her boobs.

 

Then he sat down.

 

Kate screamed. Sergei’s full weight was resting on her tits, crushing them into the lip of the toilet. It hurt *so much*. She struggled, but pulling on her tits only made them hurt worse.

 

Sergei’s legs were either side of her body as he sat on the toilet. He pulled her face down to his erect cock, and his dick pushed into her open mouth, muffling her screams. “Good girl,” he told her. “I’ll get up once I cum.”

 

Kate’s mind was on fire. The vibrator humming in her pussy and the drugs in her system told her that she was happy, very aroused, and receiving sexual pleasure. But her breasts were in agony. She was trying to suck on Sergei to make him cum as quickly as possible, but each time she bobbed her head on his dick it made him bounce up and down on her trapped boobs, with each bounce causing her nipples to squirt a little milk into the toilet. She couldn’t think straight. She wanted to cum. She wanted to cum from the pain in her tits. But her clit was numb, and she couldn’t reach orgasm. It was maddening.

 

She didn’t know how long she was there for – her mind had gone empty from pain and pleasure by the time Sergei finally rewarded her with a mouthful of cum, which she promptly swallowed. When he got up from the seat, it hurt even worse, though, as blood flooded back into her tortured, constricted fuckmelons.

 

Her third job was to be a mascot for the office. He put her in a dog collar, and found a puppy-tail butt plug and jammed it into her anus. (The vibrator was still humming in her cunt.) He bound her hands with duct-tape so she couldn’t manipulate things with her fingers, and he made her crawl around on all fours. He was worried she might stand up when he wasn’t around, so after a while he attached tight medical clamps to her nipples and clit with heavy weights hanging from them. It hurt so much to drag the weights around on the floor that she couldn’t imagine standing up and letting her sensitive areas bear their full weight. She was glad now that her clitoris had been numbed.

 

After a while, he decided she wasn’t a puppy, she was a cow, and connected her to an industrial milking station. The tight suction of the cups on her sensitive tits was so painful that she wasn’t able to enjoy the strange sight of milk flowing from her breasts and up the plastic tubing to a metal canister.

 

He left her connected to the machine overnight, and came back the next day. By that stage she had had a vibrator in her pussy for nearly 24 hours and was delirious with the need to cum.

 

He took the vibrator out of her and very deliberately waited until the Ovanzum had cleared out of her system, and she was regaining her clarity of mind. Shame swept over her as she thought of all that had happened to her – and rage at Sergei.

 

“How dare you?” she demanded. “You took advantage of me. Let me out of this machine and this tape on my hands, this instant!”

 

“No, I don’t think so,” said Sergei. “We have to try you in your fourth job, of whore. If you take this job, you will do it sober, without any drugs in you.” And with that, he pushed her back down on all fours, and stuck his cock into her pussy, and raped her.

 

As he fucked her, he said, “I told you if you were a good girl, you could cum. This is your chance. I have good endurance. I’m going to keep raping you – while those suction cups stay on your tits – until you orgasm. And I’ll know if you’re faking.”

 

He did know when she tried faking it. Her fake shudders, and declaration that she had cum, merely resulted in him getting another dose of the drug that promoted lactation and breast sensitivity and shooting it into her breast. She wailed in pain and humiliation as he pushed his cock back into her and went back to raping her.

 

By doing her best to think all the sluttiest and most arousing thoughts she could, Kate was able to orgasm after around an hour of abuse. Sergei came shortly afterwards, filling her pussy with sperm. Kate tried not to worry about whether the Ovanzum might have overcome her birth control medication.

 

She thought after that her ordeal would be over, but instead Sergei went and got another dose of Ovanzum. Kate’s eyes widened, and she tried to back away, but she was still connected to the milker and could only go so far, so the syringe went into her breast, and ten minutes later Kate’s cunt was wet again and her eyes were glazed over.

 

“So which job do you want, Kate?” asked Sergei, laughing. “You can be a test subject, or a toilet seat, or the office animal, or the office whore.”

 

“You said there was a fifth option?” she said.

 

“Oh, yes,” said Sergei. “We try to give our animal patients the very best. I think a naked horny slut would be a very nice upgrade to the kennels where we keep our male dogs. I think it would increase their satisfaction immensely. Of course, that would be *incredibly* humiliating to you. Imagine doing that job every day for two years, with a dose of Ovanzum every morning to keep you stupid and wet. Can you *imagine* all those animal cocks penetrating you, Kate?”

 

She moaned, and tried not to. She thought about having random drugs tested on her. She thought about the tit pain of being Sergei’s toilet seat. She thought about how much her breasts hurt right now from being connected to the machine overnight. And she thought about having just been raped by Sergei while not aroused at all.

 

Her pussy tingled. “Will I get to cum, if I choose?” she said.

 

“No, choosing is not optional,” said Sergei. “But if you choose, and sign the paperwork that legally binds you to do that work, and then try *all* the jobs again, just for old time’s sake – well, I might let you cum at the end of that….”

 

Part of Kate was crying with shame and pain and humiliation. But part of her really wanted to cum – and keep cumming, again and again – so she knew exactly what she was going to say….

 

Desirable Behaviour Through Wearables

 

Rachel’s psychology marks weren’t as great as they could be, so she was quick to jump on the advertisement in the women’s rec room. It offered psych course credit in exchange for part-time work over three months helping to prepare for a conference presentation.

 

She probably should have read the contract she was offered before signing it. The conference was on the topic of “Training The Modern Woman” and the three psych postgrads who she would be assisting were making a presentation on “Accessory Training: Creating Desirable Behaviour Through Wearables”.

 

She was told all she would have to do for the three months is wear the three items they had designed, and then attend the conference so they could show their results.

 

In the first month, the first postgrad got her to have her tongue pierced. Into the piercing, he put a large metal stud that ended in a bright pink disc of metal about the size of a large coin, on which the words “Rape Me” were clearly visible. Rachel was not eager to show off the disc - which made her blush every time she thought about it - and not eager to explain why it was on her tongue, so she started speaking less, staying silent more often. Over the month she became less inclined to disagree with people, less inclined to dispute instructions or ask questions about them, and much less inclined to voice her own opinions or thoughts.

 

The disc had a secondary purpose. It could detect movements in her mouth, and when it could tell she was smiling, it released a very subtle taste of semen into her mouth. She didn’t even notice it, but she soon came to associate the taste with being happy.

 

At the end of the month, the second postgrad had his turn. He gave her a clit piercing, and clipped a little metal device through the piercing, and then gave her bracelets and a necklace to wear. She soon discovered how they worked. If her hand came too near the necklace, she would receive a sharp electric shock in her clit. The range was sufficient that she couldn’t move her hands anywhere near her breasts and face. She quickly learned not to cover or protect her breasts, and to generally stand with her hands by her sides or behind her back. She also now found it difficult to eat using her hands. The postgrad recommended she try eating directly from a dog bowl, and although it made her blush, she found it worked.

 

Trying this out also helped her to discover another effect of the jewellery set - when her hands and neck were both closer to the ground than her clit, the clit piercing began to vibrate pleasurably. Often after eating from her dog bowl, she would stay on all fours, tits pressed against the ground and ass in the air, until the device had brought her to an embarrassing orgasm.

 

The last postgrad gave her several sets of clothes to wear. The clothes were sexy, but not overly slutty. The shoes were the real nightmare - they buckled to her feet, had ridiculously high heels she could barely balance on, and the inner soles were covered with wicked little spikes that bit into the soles of her feet. She could barely stand on them for more than a few minutes at a time, but she had to wear them constantly while awake, so she found herself getting down on all fours and crawling whenever she could, to take the weight off her feet.

 

She would have spent more time sitting, but the panties were cruel too, with uncomfortable short phalluses on the inside that lined up with her anus and pussy. The one at her butthole was too big, and hurt tremendously when she sat on it. In addition, the seat of the panties also had a spiky texture that hurt to sit on.

 

Unbeknown to Rachel, the clothes were all also soaked in a contact chemical, that caused very minor irritation and background nausea. The longer Rachel wore the clothes, the unhappier and sicker she felt, and the sense of relief when she was allowed to remove them at night was nearly overwhelming. Towards the end of the month she would be in tears in the morning, begging the postgrad on the phone to not have to put on clothes, to be allowed to stay naked, her words slurred from the large piercing through her tongue - but he never showed mercy.

 

At the conference, she was brought out on stage for everyone to see. The postgrads had told her she would have to wear her heels, but she could go without clothing if she wanted to. She was almost delirious with happiness at not having to wear clothes. In front of a huge crowd, she blushingly crawled out, nude except for her jewellery and heels, her tits hanging beneath her, her clit piercing buzzing, making her cunt uncomfortably wet.

 

The postgrads detailed how they had trained Rachel to be a much more appealing modern woman, to the laughter and approval of the audience. Then, finally, each postgrad asked Rachel a question.

 

The first postgrad said, “Would you rather suck my cock on stage in front of all these people, or give a short speech telling us about women’s rights?” Rachel wanted to talk about women’s rights - this whole conference was so demeaning for women - but she didn’t want to show everyone her piercing and she knew she would sound stupid with her words slurred anyway. Then the postgrad took his cock out of his pants, and the smell of his pre-cum was so good that Rachel couldn’t help herself. She obediently opened her mouth and began slobbering over his cock in front of the crowd, until finally he ejaculated. He pulled out as he did so, getting some cum on her face and tits, but he left enough in her mouth for her to enjoy the taste.