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Coach's Formula, The
There But For The Grace Of God
|The night before, Saturday, somewhere in the desert in the Western United States, around 17:00 hours local time…
“Angus McCready,” said the lady, turning the name over on her tongue. She liked the sound of it. It had a strong sound. She imagined its bearer must also be a strong man. The lady liked strong men.
It was clear that she was thinking something over, so the Captain and the Lt. Colonel thought it best to remain silent until she decided to speak.
After a pause, she said pointedly, “I want to know everything there is about him.”
“That’s being taken care of,” replied the Lt. Colonel confidently, “You’ll have all available intel at 19:00 hours.”
“Excellent work, Colonel,” said the lady in her most indulgent tone.
The Lt. Colonel blushed momentarily at her compliment and then felt angry for having done so. He was amazed at how this woman managed to wrap the men of his command around her little finger, including himself.
It was, in his opinion, unnatural.
The lady stood up and the Lt. Colonel reflexively stood up as well. More out of fear than out of any sense of chivalry.
“Proceed with your work Colonel,” she said, and then to the Captain, “Captain Quinn please come with me. I have an assignment for you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said both men simultaneously.
The lady left the office and the Captain followed at a respectful distance behind her. She didn’t speak and Quinn didn’t expect her too. Nor did he think it proper to engage her in conversation. Instead he watched the curve of her ass as she walked and fought down the sudden feeling that came over him was enough to make his dick spring into life. He was ashamed of himself. He was a United States Marine for the love of all that was holy and he’d become this woman’s fuck toy.
And she was insatiable.
But she was no submissive, as the Captain found out quickly, not even in the bedroom. He wasn’t sure his ego could survive his posting to this command.
After a few minutes, it occurred to the Captain that they weren’t going to his quarters as he’d initially thought they would. They were going to the lab instead. Whenever the lady had a “special project” or “assignment” for him, it usually involved him fucking her in one form or another. She really liked it from behind.
They quickly arrived at Dr. Bradford’s office. Quinn was genuinely puzzled.
The lady and he quickly bypassed the security perimeters.
This was the heart of the Pegasus Project. Quinn had never actually had reason to be here before today, although he had the requisite security clearances. He and Fraser weren’t scientists, they were warriors. Aside from their administrative duties as the two highest ranking officers on base, they were not involved in scientific research. That was Dr. Bradford’s exclusive domain. And Bradford reported only to the lady herself. This had never been a problem as Quinn had found – for in being an active base with a considerable amount of munitions and equipment, as well being the training facility for superhuman troops – there was never a shortage of things to do.
“Ma’am,” said Bradford respectfully when he noticed her.
Quinn surveyed his surroundings as he came into the room. It was in many ways just what he would have expected. A domain for pencil pushers and lab rats all dressed up in their white coats, latex gloves and protective masks. Quinn had an inherent dislike of hospital conditions and he didn’t bother to hide the look of disgust he knew must be on his face.
“Good to see you, Captain,” said the Doctor.
Quinn nodded back at him. He noticed a large tank of blue liquid at the far end of the room that gurgled and fizzed like some concoction from the laboratory of Dr. Frankenstein. Completing that picture was a table of sorts, next to the tank, where Quinn knew from briefings the human test subjects received their treatments. In point of fact, Quinn had made the Frankenstein connection with Bradford on several occasions. There was just something off about Bradford, Quinn had decided. It was something about his eyes.
“You are fully briefed on the Project,” inquired the lady of him, “Are you not Captain?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said the Captain. He noticed the two of them looking at him expectantly and so he went on, “In the 1960’s the government decided to initiate a conditioning program for soldiers. It was ended because of increased civilian interference during the Vietnam conflict. The program was revived during the height of the Cold War under the name Excelsior. A formula was developed through a CIA subsidiary known as Niodex in the 1980’s. It was found to have significant impact on animals, but the results were considered to be too unpredictable when mixed with other hormones. I believe there was some concern by the brass that it might have dangerous implications when mixed with the human growth hormone. The animal testing bore that hypothesis out. It was decided to abandon the Niodex formula in favor of Project Pegasus, which has been headed by Doctor Bradford here for the past few years. My understanding is that the Pegasus compound is more effectively metabolized into the body while having a narcotic effect on the subject. Coupled with mental conditioning the subjects show a strong, almost single-minded devotion to their duties.”
“Very good Captain,” said the Doctor, “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“Yes,” said the lady, surveying Quinn in her usual sexual way, “The benefits of scientific research have excellent implications for our national security and not just in the realms of warfare.”
Quinn kept silent, trusting that silence is always the best course.
The Doctor picked up where the lady had left off, “Yes, this project has produced some stunning results. Since it began we have seen elevated levels of strength and size in each of our subjects with every enhancement of the serum, coupled with elevated levels of endurance. It could come to pass that one of our subjects could indeed become the perfect soldier in all respects.”
“I’m sorry, Ma’am,” said the Captain, knowing all of this, “But what precisely is my involvement here? I am already thoroughly familiar with the operational capabilities of the Pegasus recruits.”
“What you don’t know, Captain Quinn, because it has been kept from almost everyone,” said the lady with considerable seriousness even for her, “Is that human subjects were tested in the 1980’s with the Niodex formula.”
The Captain’s face registered surprise.
“Yes, indeed, Captain,” the lady continued, “Those subjects had strength gains on par with those of the Pegasus recruits, but their behavior was unpredictable in the extreme, resulting in deadly consequences. They had to be terminated.”
“I’m sorry Ma’am,” said Quinn, “But I still don’t see what my role here is apart from assisting the Lt. Colonel in running this base?”
“We need you to undertake induction into the Pegasus Project, Captain,” said the Doctor frankly.
“What?” asked the Captain in disbelief.
“The Pegasus recruits do not have an officer among them of sufficient rank and training to lead a tactical operations mission such as the one they will be required to undertake,” said the Doctor, “It was our intention to find a suitable candidate at an appropriate time, but the present incident has shown us that we need one now. Your training and tactical experience is without question. The men already recognize and respect you.”
“But…” sputtered the Captain, “What about the genetic and psychological evaluations?”
“Unfortunately,” said the lady determinedly, “I do not have the luxury for all that. You will fulfill the role for which you have been designated soldier, and you will do it without question.”
The Captain had spent years conditioning his body with solid determination. He had taken his genetics and pushed them to their natural limits, which were pretty far, without any assistance from a chemical substance. He was a smart man. He was a fine soldier. And he knew what he wanted. But he didn’t think he wanted this. Something about the artificial means by which it would be achieved bothered him considerably.
The lady motioned behind him and before the Captain knew what was happening two of the Pegasus Project inducted MPs had grabbed hold of the Captain’s arms and begun to drag him over to a table near the tank. He was stunned by how quick his trainees could actually move when he was on the receiving end. He ordered them to release him, but they ignored him. Everyone knew that the lady was the boss.
Quinn struggled in vain, but the grips of the MPs were like iron. He thought dumbly back to the project specifications they had been reviewing only a moment before. He knew that these men each had the strength of at least two hundred well trained men. He was no physical match even for the least of them.
He struggled for a few more minutes as they tore off his shirt and pants and belted steel straps made of titanium over his chest, waist, arms and ankles. He was firmly in place on the table: a perfect human guinea pig.
“We need to give him the full treatment Doctor,” said the lady.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” asked Bradford, “We’ve never gone to level five before.”
“The risk is acceptable,” she said, “It has to be. You may not realize what we’re up against here, but I do.”
The Doctor nodded and proceeded to insert four IV needles into veins in the Captain’s arms and legs. The IVs were connected to tubes that ran to machines hooked up to the tanks. Within seconds the Doctor had performed the necessary calibrations and the liquid had begun to flow into the Captain’s bloodstream.
The Captain screamed.
The lady, almost soothingly, ran her fingers over the Captain’s head.
“This too shall pass, Captain,” she whispered in his ear.
Quinn wasn’t so sure. He thought someone was pouring hot lava into his blood and on several occasions he felt like he might slip into unconsciousness.
His body was absorbing the compound at an incredible rate of speed and the Doctor knew that they had chosen their subject well. The Captain might even outstrip most, if not all, of the other inductees according to the readings he was receiving. Of course they were pushing his body past the breaking point in the process by adding an experimental compound that allowed Quinn to metabolize the serum that much faster. This new ingredient was not unlike the older Niodex formula. When the project had first started it had taken up to fifteen treatments before any results had manifested in the inductees. Quinn’s heart rate was alarmingly high, but the lady had been very clear, the Captain was to undergo the full treatment to level five even if he died in the process.
The Doctor only hoped that the Captain had a strong constitution and a will to live.
Quinn held back another scream, but finally the pain overwhelmed him. He let out a primal roar of pain and frustration.
“That’s it,” cooed the lady, “Let it happen. Don’t fight it.”
He screamed and screamed and screamed until he thought his lungs would burst, but nothing seemed to make the pain go away.
Then the oddest thing happened.
The pain remained incandescent, but the Captain felt something beyond it. He reached out and clung to this new feeling. It was almost pleasurable. It had a warm, wholesome feeling, thick like molasses, and it grew inside, filling him. He closed his eyes and let it wash over him, drowning out the otherwise agonizing sensation of the burning fire.
Bradford watched, momentarily envious, as the changes began in Quinn in earnest. Quinn was already a big man: two hundred and twenty pounds of hard gained, natural muscle. It was difficult to see the transformation at first, but then his arms began to increase in size, as his body was forced to turn raw elements into hard, thick muscle. His skeletal structure was being forced to accommodate these changes. Then his chest expanded, slowly at first, but with increasing speed, as pound after pound of hard dense muscle was added to his frame.
The change was incredible and once it began it lasted until the end. None of the other inductees had ever had a treatment anywhere near that long and certainly none had ever experience the level five serum.
The minutes ticked by slowly for over one hour. By the end Quinn lay on the platform, unmoving, his massive arms and legs grew pushing hard against the restraints. His growth fired off every pleasure hormone in his brain and he lay back in an almost catatonic state as the activity in his body increased the pleasure in his mind. The growth was an incredible sensation. The initial pain of the process had clearly passed away. In his mind, Quinn knew that his muscles themselves were being transformed into something different than mere flesh, flooded with growth serum. As the pain had at last entirely passed away, he knew that there would be very few things on earth that would be able to cause him pain again.
He felt powerful. Beyond even that.
The power overwhelmed every other sensation. He was muscle and strength personified. Then the Captain focused back on the room around him. He couldn’t remember anything for a minute, not even who he was, but then he focused his consciousness. He was in a large, white room. He tried to get up, but something held him down. He was a captive. Yes! He remembered it now. Those men had restrained him and forced him to endure torment.
He remembered. And he was angry.
Quinn began to flex and push against his restraints. Immediately, his body responded. He felt stronger. The restraints began to feel tighter as his body and muscles continued to grow beneath them. The Captain didn’t care. As he flexed, he felt it happen. There was a loud, whiny grinding noise, as the titanium metal holding him down fought against his strength. His body was on fire. He knew he was getting stronger. He was getting bigger. This was a battle…he…would…win.
First on his right side, then on his left, his arms began to rise up an inch. The metal wasn’t so tight anymore. He pushed and pulled his arms harder, and forced his legs up. There was a squeal from below as the metal snapped, freeing his mighty legs. Seconds later, the straps holding his arms split too, falling to the ground next.
He stood up absolutely convinced of the absolute power of his invulnerable muscle.
The tight, white military issue underwear that Quinn had been wearing before this began split as the increased size of the Captain’s enlarged cock and balls competed with his new, even more rounded ass muscles. As a Doctor, Bradford had seen the naked male form before, but he always marveled at how many changes the transformation could bring. Now he was positively thunderstruck at the size of Quinn’s huge balls and thick, long dick, which was clearly a foot long.
“Soldiers, come here!” bellowed the Captain.
The two ripped MPs responded to the order of their superior officer and walked over to the Captain. Bradford sensed that the men were testing one another. The first and smaller of the MPs flexed a bicep. It would have dwarfed that of a professional bodybuilder by half.
“Now you,” ordered the Captain to the other MP.
He complied. His bicep formed a nice round ball. The muscle flexed large and hard. The second MP clearly eclipsed the first.
Quinn watched the display, admiring their size and proportions.
“That’s a damn fine arm, Marine,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” replied the MP, not moving his arm from where it was positioned next to the other man’s.
“Damn fine,” he repeated.
Then came up behind the two MPs and flexed his bicep. With determination, his bicep formed a thick mound on his arm. He twisted his wrist, causing his forearm to thicken. He contracted the bicep just then, his huge peak fighting against the forearm for room. The Captain's bicep flexed harder and harder, growing huge and ripped, veins popping through the skin.
The eyes of the MPs widened at the sight. The second MP tried to flex harder, but his own huge arm was clearly smaller that the Captain’s massive gun. It was so much bigger. Of all the inductees, the MP had never seen an arm so huge.
“Damn,” he said, “Look at that peak!”
Quinn was all shit eating grin, suddenly cocky as all hell, “I think there’s a new alpha male around here.”
He struck a double bicep pose, and the MPs followed his lead. They compared their arms, but the MPs looked small. Then suddenly the Captain grabbed the second MP’s arm with all his strength and spun him around. The MP struggled. He was nearly as big and strong as the Captain. Angered, he threw a punch into his superior officer’s chest without thinking, trying to fend off the bigger man. It caused Quinn to stagger back. Another hit to his abs bunched him over.
But Quinn recovered quickly.
He felt an amazing feeling overtake him as he battled the MP. Each punch of the second MP felt weaker as Quinn’s muscles strengthened to counter them. As the MP swung again, Quinn caught the punch in his fist, stopping it. Then he muscled the other man’s arm down, his arm and shoulders getting larger as he exerted himself against the other man. His growth was being fed by the MP’s own massive power. Quinn forced the MP into a bear hug and lifted him from the ground. He was so strong now; nothing the MP could do could stop him. The MP flexed back, but the Captain began to crush him with his larger muscles.
Quinn was growing increasingly larger. And he was also hurting the MP. The MP’s face clearly registered pain.
“Release him Captain,” said a female voice behind him.
For some inexplicable reason, the Captain found himself needing to obey. He did so instantly. He turned around and saw the bitch that had caused him so much pain. A flash of anger surged through his mind and if the room hadn’t been so large, he would have taken her head clean off her shoulders.
“Stop!” she commanded, and the Quinn found himself frozen, standing at attention.
“Channel your anger Captain,” she said firmly, “We don’t have time for this. You must learn to use your new strength and quickly.”
Quinn’s mind began to clear just as suddenly as if from a fog. He was overcome with his desire for this woman. He realized it was strange and must be an effect of the serum, but he could not disobey her.
“Take him to the gym,” she ordered the MPs, “But him through a full battery of strength tests; I want to know his maximum strength scores.”
The Captain was given a pair of shorts to wear, which clung to him obscenely like a second skin.
He followed the two MPs to the experimental gym and proceeded to a machine designed to simulate curling. It was part of the magnetic gym the government had put together when they realized normal weights would be grossly insufficient. As Quinn lifted he became almost light headed, overcome with hormones, as he felt his body begin to change. After ten reps he felt a stream of power emanating from his muscles. His nuts burned with energy. Instead of slowing down, each rep got faster as it became easier for the Captain to handle the weight. He marveled at the way his arms were expanding, increasing with new size and strength. At twenty reps there was a loud whining sound coming from the machine.
Then it broke.
It was soon apparent to the observers that none of the specially adapted magnetic machines were going to be a match for the Captain’s power. He worked every muscle group: pecs, triceps, delts, traps, quads, hams, abs and calves. He grew exponentially to compensate for the increased weight.
He felt a rush. He was proud of his new muscle; he didn’t think he would be. But he brushed away his earlier objections in the euphoria of supremacy. Several of the inductees came into the gym to test themselves against the Captain, but none of them were near as big as he was and no where near as strong. He grew huger with each passing breath as the serum soaked more fully into his cells. He knew no equal.
Quinn jumped up from the machine and flexed in front of the mirrors. His arms were now even more massive. The Captain enjoyed looking at his new, altered body as he posed in the mirror. His pecs were massive. His quads were ripped and showed every muscle fiber as he flexed. Even unflexed the muscle and was deep and rippled with the slightest of movements.
He went back to the last few working machines. Once he started it took only a few reps for the haze of growth to envelop his mind. He loved how it felt. Like a drug. It meant he was becoming even more, he felt the power grow as he forced himself to become bigger and stronger.
More power was what he wanted. He needed to have it. He deserved to have it.
“Do you think he’ll be ready?” asked the Doctor watching from the control room.
“Most certainly,” replied the lady next to him.
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