Serpentitis I

Carson sat down at his desk, and was unwrapping his lunch when his phone rang. Tapping the button on his keyboard, the screen popped to life, revealing the haggard visage of his caller.

"Yes?" he said, as he stuffed a quarter of his sandwich into his mouth. The face on the screen was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it off hand.

"Dr. Carson, I don't know if you remember me. I came to see you a few years ago, about serpentitis?" Carson's bushy eyebrows shot up: now he recognized the face.

"Just a second" he said, as he rolled his chair back and flipped the office door closed. Returning to the desk, he said "Johnson ... Andrew, right? What can I do for you?"

Johnson half-smiled at being recognized. "I was just calling to ask you about ..., well, did they ever figure out what caused it?"

Carson leaned forward, closer to the screen, and lowered his voice. "Well, here's the story the CDC finally pieced together. A biotech company just outside Boston was doing functional genomic research. What they were doing was, they'd take a human gene, and a rat promoter region, and splice them into a viral vector, like a gene-therapy setup. The gene would encode a human protein, one where the function hadn't been identified, and the promoter would cause the protein to be expressed in a rat. They made thousands of different constructs randomly, and then put them into rats. As far as they could tell, someone handling the rats became infected, and spread the infection to a number of people. Several hundred men apparently came down with it, altogether. The gene was later discovered to be a homeobox gene, which is a gene that controls body proportion and shape during development. The promoter turned out to be the rat testosterone receptor, which was completely functional in humans."

Johnson scowled a second, digesting the unfamiliar terminology. "So, it was a human gene, but you caught it like a cold?"

"Well, pretty much. The vector, or carrier, that the company used was a mildly infectious virus that normally causes colds. It was modified so that it wasn't supposed to be able to infect humans, but their stock strains had reverted at some point, and they hadn't checked its infectiousness rigorously."

Johnson nodded. "So, could you catch it over and over again, like a cold?"

Carson dismissed the idea. "No, you don't actually get the same cold repeatedly: you might get a cold from one adenovirus, and then get another cold from a different strain of adenovirus, but you'd be immune to the first strain. Your body develops an immunity - that's how you get over the cold in the first place. Your immune system keeps a special form of the same immune cells on tap, essentially for the rest of your life. That way, the next time you encounter that infectious agent, your body can mount an immediate immune response, and the infection never gets started the second time."

Johnson nodded, "But don't some people get the same thing twice. Like, don't some people get chickenpox twice?"

Carson grudgingly admitted, "Well, sometimes. It's pretty rare. It could happen if you've gone through chemotherapy, which wipes out your immune system, or even if you're exposed to a large source of infection at a time when your immune system is depressed. Some medications can do that, or exhaustion. Why?"

Johnson now looked concerned. "OK, and if someone caught serpentitis twice, what would happen?"

Carson snorted. "He'd be fucking elephants! Sorry. Everyone who caught the virus seems to have grown in length by a factor of two to two and a half, with a concomitant increase in girth. Basically, they all ended up between 12 and 15 inches long, depending on how long it took them to get over the infection, and how long they were to begin with. As soon as your immune system kicked in, it shut down the protein production, and the growth stopped."

"You said, 'and how long they were to begin with...'"

"Yes, guys who said they were longer to begin with appear to have grown proportionally. Of course, we didn't have any 'before' measurements - only their word to go on. But most of the guys who said they started out around 6-1/2 to 7 inches ended up around 14-15 inches, and most of the guys who said they were 6 inches or smaller ended up closer to 12, unless they were infected for a particularly long time. If someone caught it twice, say starting with 12 inches, they'd probably end up with something like two to three feet."

Seeing the concern on Johnson's face, Carson continued "Say, you look like you could use a checkup. Would you like to make an appointment to come in?"

Johnson was nodding. "Oh, and what happened to the biotech company?"

Before Carson could answer, Johnson's girlfriend (wife?) appeared on the screen. "What are you doing out of bed? You need your *rest*, Andrew." With that she smiled at the screen impishly, said "Excuse me", and terminated the call.

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis II

Carson sat back, startled. "What happened to the biotech company, indeed." Well, that was one question he would rather not answer at the moment.

His half-eaten sandwich forgotten on his desk, he leaned back and replayed in his mind the story of his own bout of serpentitis. Years ago, when this began, he had been an established urologist in Boston, practicing in a small but well-respected clinic. Several men had come to see him, including Johnson, complaining of unexpected sudden growth. Well, "complaining" wasn't really the term for it: mainly, they came in because they thought they might have some weird form of cancer, or because their wife or girlfriend were concerned they wouldn't stop growing. Each had complained of having a severe cold just before the growth started, or even during it. Carson wondered how many men around Boston had caught this "cold", and didn't bother to mention it. Come to think of it, Johnson was still suffering from the cold when he came in, coughing and hacking all over the examination room. It was probably Johnson who passed it to me to begin with, thought Carson.

Of course, the very idea of a cold that made one's penis double in length was utterly ridiculous, and at the time Carson could think of no possible explanation for such growth. The first patient he sent home with his girlfriend with instructions to measure length and width when erect, and to repeat the measurements daily for two weeks. He didn't expect to find any change, but thought that the exercise would at least relieve the patient's concerns that he was still growing. Frankly, the only explanation he could think of was some form of possible psychological error, or perhaps an odd neurological problem. Within a week, however, four more patients had come in with the same story, and the same "symptoms." All proved to be obviously well-equipped on examination, and all reported measurements in the 12-15" range, with the aid of wives or girlfriends. Carson had been pondering these results when he came down with a cold himself.

When he got home that night, his wife Virginia immediately put him to bed, telling him that he'd finally worked himself into a frazzle, and was going to stay in bed until *she* let him out. Virginia was a head nurse, and there was no arguing with her. Carson had gone to bed, slurped down the chicken noodle soup she brought, and promptly fell asleep.

The next morning, she looked at him, checked the whites of his eyes, and pronounced him unfit to stand. She brought him a light breakfast, and left him a light lunch before going off to a busy shift at the hospital. Carson, feeling quite groggy, tired, and aching all over, did not object. He managed to telephone the clinic, and had his appointments cleared or shifted to one of the other two doctors. Then, he spent the rest of the day, and the following day, eating (he was surprisingly hungry), trying to blow out the prodigious quantities of mucus his sinuses were generating, sleeping, and watching daytime television (which was actually less satisfying than just sleeping).

On the third (maybe the fourth) morning, he had been awakened by Virginia shoving his shoulder and demanding "Robert! Who are you dreaming about?"

Still groggy, Carson mumbled a "what are you talking about?"

Virginia pointed down at the tented sheets, and said "That! I wake up next to you, and you've got a regular tent pole."

Carson mumbled "Morning wood, we've gone through this before. Doesn't mean I was dreaming anything."

"But it's never been like *that* before. You look huge! Who were you dreaming about?"

Carson finally flipped the sheets down, and discovered that he was, in fact, huge. In a moment of understanding, he suddenly believed all of his recent patients. "Honey, go get a tape measure, please?"

Harumphing, Virginia slid out of bed and stalked off down the hall to fetch the cloth tape measure from her sewing kit. At 35, he still found her a knockout. Watching her stride out of the room naked, her full breasts bouncing with every stride, made him begin to throb.

Returning with the tape, she held one end against his pubic bone, and ran the length along his length. "Robert, I'm sure you weren't 10 inches long before", she said, her voice changing to puzzlement. "How did this happen?"

Carson recounted the stories of the patients he'd seen the previous week. All the while, Virginia ran her hand lightly up and down his shaft, keeping him hard. She could barely get her fingers all the way around. "So what is this, the 'big dick virus'?" she asked when he'd finished.

"No, I think we'll have to call it something less obvious. Macropenes carsonii?"

"Yeah, right" she replied, "How about 'redwoodus giganticus', or 'serpentitis'?"

The latter name had stuck.

She slid into bed with him, then straddled him and ran her full, hanging breasts on either side of his shaft, now twitching with his pulse. "Well, we should try this out while you have it" she said with a wink. "Let's see if I can make it any bigger..." and then proceeded to run her tongue up and down his length and around the head. After several minutes, she crammed the entire head into her mouth, and began slowly sliding the head and next few inches of shaft in and out, applying pressure with her tongue to the sensitive spot on the underside next to the head. He was rock hard a few minutes later when she suddenly stopped, whipped out the tape measure, and pronounced him 11" long. Throwing the tape measure off the bed, she lay down next to him, yanked his should toward her so that he was facing her, and carefully began to shove him into her hot, wet snatch. When he had started to get up, to move on top of her, she stopped him with a hand on his chest: "Not until we're used to this. I want to be able to move back if it gets... too tight." He wasn't used to screwing while lying on his side, but didn't have any trouble with it. Even though he was still pretty groggy, and wasn't applying his usual energy and finesse, he could tell that Virginia was very turned on. A very slow and leisurely lovemaking session, it seemed to go on for hours, ending with a very satisfying explosion.

Virginia had gotten up to quickly get ready for work. While she was in the shower, Carson had thought through the implications. This has commercial potential, he realized. Hawking wads of phlegm into a tissue, he dumped out a pill bottle and inserted the wadded tissue. As Virginia was about to dash out the door, he gave her the pill bottle in a bag, and handed her a note with an address. "Here, please drop this off with Ron Archer. Tell him I think there's a new virus in it, and that I need it cultured and sequenced. Tell him to keep it strictly confidential, and to treat it as extremely contagious. ... And don't tell him that I have it."

She looked worried "Is this serious?"

"No, it's a potential opportunity. We'll talk about it tonight." Then he went back to bed.

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis III

Archer's results were ready two days later. His analysis identified the testosterone promoter, and tentatively identified the other gene as a human homeobox gene of unknown function. The vector was unfamiliar, but he was able to find the sequence in the public databases: it turned out to be a proprietary transfer vector, patented by a local biotech company.

Finally over the cold symptoms, Carson returned to the clinic, but told his staff to clear all his appointments unless they called reporting "serpentitis" symptoms. He then contacted the Centers for Disease Control in Atlanta, and reported the outbreak. They were understandably skeptical, but after he faxed them Archer's report and his patient files (with their pictures and self-reported measurements), they were obligated to investigate. In parting, Carson mentioned that they would *not* want to report this particular outbreak to the media: "Can you imagine what traffic into Boston would be like? Half the men in the country would be hijacking planes."

A CDC team had come and investigated, talked to the biotech company, and had traced all the infected men they could find. As a urology expert, Carson had been roped into the investigation, and had been involved until the CDC determined that there were no new cases. He had met both the president and the vice president, who had come to Boston for a fund raiser, and came down with severe colds a week later.

The day after the CDC closed the case on serpentitis, Carson was presenting his business plan to venture capitalists. He sold his interest in the clinic, raised $12 million in venture capital, and incorporated Python Biotechnology. Research was going well, and they'd developed a strictly non-contagious form of the vector (can't have people getting the treatment for free!). A strictly illegal informal clinical trial had produced no unwanted effects, and although quite a few women came down with the cold symptoms after direct administration, none had experienced any adverse reactions. The "trial subjects", many of them company employees, had been kept in isolation their significant others throughout the duration of their participation. Still, Boston was developing a reputation as a city of particularly virile men, probably due in part to the original infection. He had heard that a number of men had taken to wearing small snake pins on their jacket or shirt, and that men wearing such things in the bars downtown were, let's just say, unusually popular.

At this point, they were nearly ready to file with the FDA. The only obstacle was licensing rights from the original biotech company, Delta. Delta hadn't patented the virus, but asserted that it was a trade secret when they heard rumors of Python's activities. Carson's lawyers advised him that Delta's case was not a slam dunk, but was sufficient to tie them up for quite a while. Ultimately, Python's directors agreed that it was more expedient to pay a small royalty to Delta for use of the trade secret, and authorized negotiations. The remaining time since then had been consumed by Delta's dithering: they couldn't decide whether they wanted a public connection with Python, and more to the point, whether there was liability involved in licensing the technology to Python. If they dragged their feet any more, Python's second product would end up on the market first.

Product number one was called the "pythonizer" within the company. Marketing was still working on a suitable generic name and trademark for the actual release. Product number two was officially titled "mammary enhancement virus" (MEV), but was called variously "melonitis", "Wassermelon's disease" (said with a German accent), and "titty-titty-boing-boing" ("TTBB" for short) by the staff. The first successful version, MEV1, had resulted in a number of female rats with mammary glands so over-developed that their legs wouldn't reach the floor of their cages. Unfortunately, it turned out that using the estrogen promoter had not been a good idea: males also have estrogen receptors, and small quantities of estrogen in circulation. Male rats had also developed large mammary glands. Later versions used a different promoter, derived from a gene expressed only in females. The current version was MEV4, and seemed to have all the bugs worked out. The MEV team were now working on calibrated versions capable of producing carefully defined results: the unofficial names for these versions were MEV5-c, MEV5-d, MEV5-dd, MEV5-f, and "MEV5-OMyGod". Of course, those designations were based on an assumed A or B cup starting size: a woman starting off with a more ample bust would increase a proportionately greater amount.

Virginia had already volunteered to try MEV5-f when it got to trial stage. The mere thought of her already full bust expanding under the influence of MEV5-f aroused him: she would end up absolutely huge. His pants were now uncomfortably tight. Tapping the keyboard, he sent "GINNY NEED U NOW - OFC" to her pager, and closed the office blinds while he waited for her to run up the stairs from the floor below, where she supervised the isolation rooms.

Minutes later, she slipped into the office and locked the door behind her. The entire company knew better than to disturb Dr. Carson when his door was closed, and when the blinds were drawn all his phone calls were routed directly to voice mail.

Virginia quickly shucked off her blouse, skirt and shoes. "Oh, are we all worked up again? Can't imagine why..." she said with a leer. It was an often-repeated observation that his work now resulted in frequent arousal - these mid-day office encounters happened at least twice a week, in addition to their usual morning and evening romps. Virginia was also highly stimulated, working closely with the unofficial trial subjects who came to spend a couple of weeks in the isolation rooms (and to grow another six or eight inches longer). Of course, they hardly ever grew as long as Carson, who had topped out at a full 15", and as thick as her wrist, by the time he'd gotten over his bout of serpentitis.

His chair spun half-way around, revealing that he'd already removed his pants, and was standing at attention. She opened the front clasp of her bra, and wrapped her voluptuous breasts around his shaft. Sliding slowly up and down, she observed "Well, we *are* all worked up again." Looking up at his face, she asked "Quick today?". After a pause, he nodded. She proceeded to give him the "elevator special" - the fellatio techniques designed to bring him off as quickly as possible. These she usually reserved to relieve sudden urges, such as during an elevator ride, an airplane lavatory, a quickie in the bathroom while the guests were freshening up, or a pick-me-up before a board meeting. She'd get her full satisfaction tonight, especially since the elevator special usually left him feeling even more aroused several hours later, just from thinking about it. Up and down, up and down, tongue and tits on his turgid shaft. Slowly, then quicker, watching the veins bulge out and the head turn darker purple. Stuffing the head and top couple inches into her mouth, running her tongue around and around the top and under the head, while both hands pumped slowly up and down. His hands kneading her breasts, flicking the nipples. He began to gasp, short quick intakes of breath, and she new he was close. Impishly, she stopped for second and removed her mouth. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, his hands still on her breasts, she said "Just imagine these five sizes larger". His bushy eyebrows shot up, and she stuffed the end back into her mouth just in time to catch the first spurt. It was amazingly hard to smile with so much in her mouth.

After cleaning up, and dressing again, she prepared to go back to work. "Leave the lights down?" she asked, knowing that he liked to nap or rest for a half hour after such sessions. He nodded, leaning back in his chair and basking.

A thought had occurred to him earlier. Something important... Oh yes, Johnson. This could be trouble...

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis IV

Johnson let Megan lead him back to bed, still in shock over his conversation with Dr. Carson. My God, how big was he going to get? Carson said that if he started off with 12 inches, he could end up two or three feet. And he was starting off with considerably more than 12 inches...

Megan had dragged him down to see the doctor only a couple of days into the illness, and he had already been a foot long then. By the time he recovered, he had grown to a length of 18 inches. He was already packing more than anybody he'd ever heard of, and he knew he was growing again. It must have been the exhaustion: he'd been up late every night for the last two weeks, working on Delta's books, trying to get them ready both for the quarterly statements and for the corporate income taxes. Maybe some of the virus was still hanging around the house after all these years, and his immune system was down just enough.

Now, Megan was busy getting him out of his robe and into bed, stopping him just long enough to handle and stroke his growing serpent. He wasn't aroused, but he was sure that he must already be more than 12 or 14 inches long, even flaccid. She also worked at Delta, in the discovery biology department, but had taken a few days off this week to stay home with him and "nurse him back to health." Although, he though, with this much attention, I never seem to get enough sleep. Its going to take me forever to get well...

Megan had now dropped her robe, and slid into bed next to him, barely letting go of him for a second. Running her hand up and down his shaft, she stroked him to full arousal. "I know just the thing to help you sleep" she said, before starting to lick and suck him fervently. Johnson laid back and let the blissful sensation wash over him. "Well, can't complain" he thought to himself, "who else gets this three or four times a day from a beautiful woman?" Although, he did find it odd that she stopped to measure his length halfway through each time.

Afterwards, her head resting on his shoulder, one hand still stroking his semi-erect penis, she asked "So, how long did Dr. Carson think you'd get?" Shifting her head only slightly, she ran her tongue around the head.

He turned so he could see her face. "Oh, he said I could end up with two or three feet." She smiled, and he saw her eyes widen. "Really?"

"...if I started out with around 12 inches. If I started out with more, well..."

"Like, four or five feet?" She was visibly, obviously excited. He hadn't realized that she was such a size queen. Come to think of it, he remembered now that she had been especially appreciative of the fact that he was a bit larger than average, even before he'd gotten serpentitis. It was only about eight inches, but she had told him at least once a week that she liked his "big cock", and that it really turned her on. When he came down with serpentitis, she'd noticed immediately that he was getting larger (she'd mentioned that the cold was giving him a "swelling"), and had starting measuring him once or twice a day after the first day or two. After he'd recovered, with a foot and a half to work with, she'd nearly gone wild. She had trouble leaving him alone, even at work. If he had an actual office with a door, instead of a cubicle, he knew that they'd be having sex at least once a day at the office (in addition to morning and evening, and sometimes in the middle of the night). He could no longer wear shorts, of course, but she had managed to talk him into going into the apartment swimming pool late at night a few times last summer. Finding the pool deserted on a Wednesday night, they'd jumped into the pool, her in a skimpy bikini, he in boxer-style swim trunks. After his second or third lap, she discovered that we was trailing out of his suit. She had been so turned on ... he must have squirted pints of cum into her wet hair, her cleavage, between her fingers...

And then there was the time on the airplane. They were flying back from California, she having attended some industry conference or something, while he was traveling with her just on vacation time. It was a half-empty red-eye flight, and they had a row to themselves towards the back. During the last in-flight movie, they reclined their seats all the way back, and she had covered them both with a blanket. She then unzipped his fly and unbuckled his belt, and managed to work his slowly stiffening cock up under his shirt. When the head reached his collarbone, she'd unbuttoned the top couple buttons of his shirt, ducked her head under the blanket, and proceeded to give him a very slow, sensuous, remarkably inconspicuous blowjob. Her hands and head moved so slowly under the blanket, they appeared to be just breathing motions. At least six or seven people had stumbled back to the lavatories, and several flight attendants had walked past at least several times, but he was sure none of them had the slightest idea he was getting head right there in front of them. When his orgasm finally arrived, it had been all he could do to keep from thrashing around in his seat. She had especially enjoyed that, probably as much as she enjoyed the way they made love. Due to his length, he usually ended up with his face directly on her firm breasts, her legs wrapped around his chest and waist, while he pumped eight or nine inches in and out. If he continued growing at this rate...

"What are you going to do with five feet of cock?" he asked, a little concerned that she wasn't as worried as he was.

"Everything I do now, and more" she said, lasciviously. The stroking sensation on his shaft picked up tempo, and she began to grind her pelvis against his leg. "Everything and more." She scooted several inches toward the head of the bed so that she could reach the head of his hardening shaft.

"I think I need another sandwich. Or two."

He was already hard again. "Sure. In a little while."

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis V

Johnson realized that he was exhausted all the time, and that he was going to stay exhausted as long as Megan was around. Of course, he loved her, and loved the attention. He just needed a night or two's rest. And to get over this damn cold. Not cold, serpentitis relapse. He wondered if Megan knew that keeping him tired would make it take longer for him to recover. Gee, she has a Ph.D. in molecular biology, how could she not? Maybe she just can't resist? Whatever, he needed a break.

Megan came in with his vitamins and a pile of sandwiches on a plate, and while he hungrily wolfed them down, told him that she had to run to the store, and that she'd be back in a half hour. Johnson nodded, still eating, and she kissed his cheek. "And get some rest, Andy" she said in parting, with a wink.

"Good Lord" he thought, "she's getting half her daily calorie intake just from my cum." The urge to go back to bed and sleep immediately was almost overpowering, but he instead found his robe and called up Dr. Carson again.

"Megan is out for a few minutes. Dr. Carson, I definitely have it again."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Doctor, its already up to here" Johnson replied, holding his hand even with the top of his head. "She won't stop long enough for me to rest."

"Have her bring you in. I think we should take a look at you. Just drop in as soon as you can. And I have a few ideas."

With that, Johnson nodded, terminated the call, and went back to bed. He fell asleep instantly, and did not wake for several hours, when Megan finally could not stand to wait any longer and slid back into bed with him. He woke to a very familiar sensation: soft fingers grasping the base of his shaft, soft, wet lips and tongue running up and down the length, her hot breath tickling his ear as she headed north towards the tip. Then he felt the head pressing against the headboard of the bed. "Hey, scoot down" she said.

He did, moving until his knees were over the foot of the bed. Rolling onto his side, he lifted her leg, and proceeded to kiss and lick her breasts, wrapping them around his thick shaft in the process. Meanwhile, Megan slowly managed to work the head of his enormous cock into her mouth. She wanted to ask if her teeth were bothering him, but that would mean taking him out of her mouth and then starting over: after that much effort... Well, she didn't notice him flinching, so there was probably no problem. She instead concentrated on trying to move her tongue while stroking the sensitive spot underneath the head with her thumb.

Johnson came up for air. "Hey, I'll bet we're the first ones to ever use this position." He got a muffled "Mmmmm hmmmmmm" in reply. "Oh, Dr. Carson said I should come in, as soon as possible." Another "Mmmmm hmmmmm". "You know, that humming feels really good." "Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm" He returned his attention to her nipples, and was rewarded with the sensation of her moaning into his cock head. Guessing that the position was uncomfortable for her, he gently roller her onto her back as he slid down, kissing and licking her thighs along the way, so that she had to release him from her mouth. Slowly his massive cock dragged along her body, between her breasts, across her flat stomach to her glistening pussy. Panting, she grasped his shaft with both hands and began pulling him inside. Even though she was well-stretched from years of experience with his prior 18-incher, he was now so massive that she had to pull him in gradually. Finally, she said "Stop", and lay there gasping with nine or ten inches of his fat log inside her. This brought Johnson into perfect position to apply tongue to clitoris, which he did with skill, until she drummed his back with her heels. He pulled out slowly, and laid his penis between her breasts, and with her manual assistance finished after several more minutes. He was so dehydrated by this point that little leaked from the end as he finished spasming.

"Shall we go now?"

"I think a quick shower is in order."

"Right. I'll be there in a minute." She lay back, still catching her breath. Johnson used the time to shower quickly, and then while she staggered bowlegged into the shower, confronted the problem of how to get dressed. Underwear was almost ridiculous: it gave support for his balls, but his dick was now about 18 inches long, even after a cold shower. It hung inches past his knees, and was obscenely obvious when he tried putting on sweat pants. He finally took a roll of bandage tape and taped the shaft just below the head so that it ended in left armpit. Let people think he was wearing a shoulder holster. Fortunately, the weather was cold enough to justify wearing a thick, loose sweater. He wore sweat pants to avoid the need for a belt, and a heavy coat over everything.

Megan drove him to Python, following the directions Carson had given Johnson over the phone. On arrival, a very buxom receptionist asked them to sign in at the front desk, and then conducted them to a standard medical examination room. An incredibly buxom nurse came in and took Johnson's temperature, weight and height, and blood pressure. Johnson tried to avoid looking at the nurse, for fear he would rip through the tape and suddenly have a giant cock lunging out through the neck of his sweater. She was *extremely* buxom, and Megan noticed how bogglingly stacked she was, and the effect she appeared to have on her Andrew. Her uniform gapped in the front, and was tight enough to reveal that her bra was also somewhat too small, enormous though it was. "This woman must have a bust line of at least 50 inches" thought Megan to herself, and suddenly her own 35C bust line felt small and inadequate.

After taking his blood pressure, the nurse told Johnson that she needed to take a throat swab. She picked up a long swab, asked him to "open wide" and attempted to steady him by putting her hand on his left shoulder as she approached the back of his throat with the swab. It was too close for Andrew. He couldn't look away from her. Her hand was mere inches from the head of his cock. He was sweating enough between the nurse, the sweater, and the heat in the examination room that he could feel the bandage tape giving way. His cock swelled, the tape came loose, and the head slipped out of his armpit and straight into the nurse's hand, making a large bulge under his sweater as it strained against the knit. Johnson gagged on the swab, and thought he would swallow it, but the nurse deftly removed it and stepped back. "My, you *are* a big boy" she said, half under her breath, as she examined the swab. "Yes, looks like this will do." And with that, she bustled out of the room. Megan looked to Johnson in time to catch him staring at the nurse's retreating form, her massive chest in motion from the sudden movement. They heard "The doctor will be right in" from down the hall, as the door swung closed.

Megan sat down in a spare chair, while Johnson forced himself to think about tax regulations until his erection subsided. After a few minutes, he succeeded to the point that his python fell out of the bottom of his sweater, just as Dr. Carson knocked and walked into the room. "Well, Andrew! It's been a while, hasn't it? How are you doing?" Johnson related that he was still doing accounting, over at Delta Biotech. Carson hid his surprise: this was the first time he'd heard that Johnson was involved with the virus's originator. Johnson was going on about his symptoms, and how tired and exhausted he felt. He was also very hungry and thirsty again. Carson promised them he'd take care of dinner in a little bit. Finally, Carson gestured to Johnson's flaccid penis, lying on the examination table, and asked "So, what do you measure these days?" Johnson looked over at Megan, who replied tersely "Well, you should have been here a couple of minutes ago."

Carson looked at Megan, eyebrows raised, and Johnson blushed. When it became apparent after a moment that she was not going to elaborate further, Carson said "Well, perhaps you would help us out and measure him here?"

She nodded.

"Thanks. Would you two like me to step out of the room for a minute?"

Andrew and Megan looked at each other as they stood up. Megan said to Carson "No, you don't have to." Carson pulled a measuring tape out of a drawer, while Megan slid Johnson's sweat pants to his ankles, held the head in one hand, and began stroking the length with her other hand. After a moment, she was stepping backwards as he swelled and stretched to full length. Johnson, shy at first, stood with his eyes closed, then relaxed into the sensation and leaned back against the examination table. Carson gave Megan the tape measure. She had Johnson hold one end against the root, while she ran the tape along his length. When she got to the end, she read off 37 inches.

"Good thing I didn't give you a yardstick" Carson joked, "it wouldn't have been long enough."

"Doctor, how much bigger is it going to get?" Johnson asked. He noticed that Megan's grip tightened at the question.

Carson asked how long Johnson had been before the second growth period had started, and how long he'd been having cold symptoms. Finally, he concluded "We can't really tell. It is possible that with a little care and rest, you could stop growing tomorrow. Or, you might grow for another week. If you are growing at a constant rate, it looks like you're growing around nine or ten inches per day. Or, you might grow at an accelerating rate, increasing by a percentage of the total length per day."

Megan asked "What do you mean by 'accelerating rate'?" She was grasping Johnson's cock firmly around the shaft just below the head (although her fingers didn't come close to going all the way around), and slowly stroking the adjacent foot and a half with her other hand.

Carson said "Think of it this way: Andrew started out with 18 inches. If he grows, say 25% per day, he'd grow four and a half inches the first day, and be 22 and a half inches long. The next day he'd grow 25% again, but now 25% is 25% of 22.5, so he grows something over five and a half inches, so he ends up with something over 28 inches. Then the third day, he grows 25% again, which is now seven inches, and he ends up around 35 inches long."

Johnson understood the math immediately. "But I'm already like 37 inches long, and its only been two days!"

Carson nodded. "Yes, that means that either you're growing at a constant rate of around 9.5 or 10 inches a day, or you're growing at a rate of more than 25% per day. For that matter, the rate can change too, depending on the virus load in the body. Have you noticed whether you grew about the same amount each day?"

Johnson shook his head, and looked to Megan. "Don't know" was all she said. She was more interested in the deepening purple color in the head of Johnson's enormous cock.

Carson looked at Megan, and said "I'll be back in about 20 minutes. Please make yourselves comfortable." And with that, he backed out the door as Johnson slid to the floor and Megan began in earnest to jack him off and suck on as much of his cock head as she could get in her mouth.

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis VI

When Carson returned after a half hour, he found them sitting side by side on the examination table, both naked, Johnson's arm around Megan's shoulders, with his incredible schlong draped across her thighs. They both looked tired. He handed each of them a large robe from a closet in the room.

"So Doctor, any ideas?" said Johnson.

"Yes, actually" said Carson with a smile. "Andrew, how would you like to come work for us, as our spokesperson slash mascot?" Seeing their look of blank bafflement, Carson had them sign confidentiality agreements, and then proceeded to explain the business and objectives of Python Biotech, and its first anticipated product. "We're going to need someone with a high profile, someone so incredibly over-endowed that our regular customers will seem just normal, and non-customers will seem like little boys who haven't hit puberty yet. Sure, every guy wants a 'wonder cock', but many will have serious second thoughts when it comes time to sign up and pay for treatment. They'll wonder if 12 inches isn't too big, and maybe they should be more conservative and go for 9 inches, and if they're only going for nine inches that maybe they shouldn't spend the money, and so on. They could end up talking themselves into indecision. Your job would basically capitalize on being 'too big', and by pushing the envelope to make the 12-16" range seem perfectly normal."

Johnson considered. Megan considered what his job would actually entail, and the kind of publicity he would receive. And the kind of women he would be associating with. Frequently. *Constantly*. "Ahem" she said. "This only works if it is a package deal. I assume you have something similar for women?"

Carson smiled broadly: "I thought you'd never ask. Opening the door and motioning to the nurse standing there, he said "Shelia, bring me a full doses of MEV5-f and MEV5-omg, and an informed consent form, please."

While they waited for Shelia to return, Carson outlined his vision of the spokesperson's role, which involved mainly living a playboy lifestyle, appearing on talk shows, traveling, and generally promoting Python's services. Megan pointed out that their clientele would be needing "exclusive" fashions designed specifically for their special needs. Carson made a note of this: an excellent opportunity, and this would be the time to start lining up a designer or two. Carson also explained to Johnson that he would need to take a blood sample, and that they'd need to examine him thoroughly to determine the exact cause of his second infection. He did not want the possible liability of repeat infections, and potentially unhappy clients with Johnson's syndrome.

Shelia returned with a tray, on which rested a form contract, two vials, and a hypodermic syringe. Megan noticed that Shelia was even bustier than the nurse who had taken Andrew's blood pressure, and then realized that the heavy cock lying across her lap was getting heavier and longer.

Dr. Carson began explaining how the MEV viruses operated, and what sort of increase she could expect from the various versions. "Since you're signing up to be a spokesperson, you'll need to choose one of the larger doses, either the 'f' or the 'omg'."

Megan grabbed the consent form and signed it. "Give me both."

Carson's eyebrows shot up, followed by a smile. "Well, we haven't tested any of the vectors in combination. This would be a pretty heavy dose."

Megan felt Andrew's cock stiffening and rising off her lap, just at the thought. "Well, you'll have to test it sometime. I'm game. That's what I want, and I've signed the form." She grabbed Andrew's cock so that it didn't hit her in the face. It did not take much to convince Carson: he had planned this, and now it was proceeding even better than he had hoped.

Carson directed Shelia to swab Megan's arm and prepare her for injection, while explaining that the vector they used had been rendered non-contagious so that it could no longer be spread by inhalation.

"What sort of vector are you using? Is this adenovirus, a retrovirus, or what" inquired Megan, as Carson injected the contents of the first vial into her arm.

Carson was surprised to see she was familiar with molecular biology. "No, a retrovirus would give you a permanent growth phenotype - you'd never stop getting bigger. We need a transient infection for our purposes, not a genetic modification. The plasmid we use now was originally an adeno-associated virus, which is only infectious in the presence of another virus." He paused to fill the syringe with the contents of the second vial. "We could spray this directly into the lungs, but for now we inject directly. Makes for a quicker onset." He finished the injection. "We will have to keep you here for the next two weeks, of course. Need to make sure that there are no adverse reactions, and guarantee that despite our precautions there's no danger of contagion. Also, we'll need to monitor you closely, as nobody's tried taking two doses at once before."

Megan stood up, still holding Andrew's half-erect cock. "Should we go home and pick up our clothes and vitamins and things?"

"No need" Carson explained. "They're not going to fit anyway." He led them through a door on the opposite side of the examination room, which opened directly into an isolation room. The room was essentially a large bedroom, with a king size bed, TV, a large attached bathroom, and kitchenette. "Better than my first studio apartment" remarked Johnson.

Megan was still carrying the end of Johnson's cock, nearly dragging him along as she examined the room. Then she turned to Dr. Carson. "I don't feel any different."

"Give it a few minutes or so." Carson smiled. "You can expect to feel pretty sleepy for the next few days. It is not uncommon for trial participants to sleep 18 hours a day at first." At this, Johnson's eyes lit up - sleep at last!

Megan yawned. "OK" <>Johnson wanted to shake hands with Carson, but couldn't reach him because of the way Megan was holding his cock. He settled for waving, saying "Thanks Doctor!"

"Better catch her", he replied. Johnson took his cock from Megan's relaxing fingers, and held it against his shoulder with his chin while he steered Megan into bed. He turned around just in time to see the door closing behind Carson and Shelia. Tucking Megan in, he realized that he too felt exhausted, dropped his robe, and slid in next to her. He was asleep in seconds.

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis VII

Andrew awoke hours later. The lights were still on, but it took him a minute to remember where he was. He found he was lying on his side snuggled up next to Megan, and couldn't figure out why he couldn't roll over. She was still wearing her robe, facing away from him. Somehow, she had managed to pass his dick between her legs, and was hugging it, her face pressed against the side. He started to slide down to disengage (he really had to take a leak), and suddenly realized that there was more sensation than he could account for. Looking again, he traced his cock from where it emerged between her thighs (she'd probably kept him erect for the last hour, just from thigh pressure), along her flat belly where one arm wrapped around it, between her ...

He could not believe it. Looking at the clock on the wall, he saw that they'd slept about twelve hours. In that time, Megan had grown from an inviting 35C to, well, really nice. DD, at least. Enough to pretty much wrap around his cock, which extended up from her cleavage, directly to her face. It had to be at least three and a half feet long. He was glad that the bed had no headboard. His balls felt full, and he realized that this was the longest he'd gone with ejaculating for weeks. Stroking Megan's newly improved breasts, he became fully aroused. He managed to pull her robe up, and began slowly pumping back and forth, grinding his crotch into Megan's ass checks. She tightened her grip in her sleep, and began grinding her pelvis against the base of his cock. Fully erect now, it was nearly the width of her thigh. Now half awake, Megan began to kiss and lick the head of his cock, and found the sensitive spot beneath the head with one hand. Several minutes of this titfucking were all that Johnson could take, and he blasted cum against the wall. Megan clamped on, hugging his cock as tightly as she could, and came as well. Now that she was awake, he was able to disengage, and finally drag himself to the bathroom.

When he returned, Megan was sitting up on the bed. "I have to go too. Help me up." She opened her eyes fully, and saw Andrew standing before her, his cock flaccid but nearly reaching the floor. Johnson saw his wife sitting on the bed with a chest that had to be larger than that nurse's bust already. Slinging his cock over his shoulder, he helped her to stand up, and walked her unsteadily to the bathroom.

A speaker on the wall came to life, and a voice said "Would you like something to eat?"

Megan and Andrew looked around. "There is an intercom next to the entry door. Just press the button and speak to answer."

Johnson went to the intercom and answered "Yes. We're both starving here."

"What would you like?"

"Anything. Whatever you have. Steak. Potatoes. Salads, milkshakes, wine. Just bring lots."

He and Megan managed to struggle into robes and stay awake long enough for their food to be brought in. It arrived just like hotel room service, although it came through a door in the wall opposite the door to the examination room and their server, rather than hotel service garb, was wearing something resembling a biohazard bunny suit. A glimpse through the door revealed what appeared to be an air lock. The server, who was obviously female (possibly the blood pressure nurse) set up a feast on their table, and wheeled the cart out the way she had entered.

Johnson sat staring after her, until Megan nudged him. "Dear, what's this?" she asked, holding up her left wrist. On it was a white plastic band with a green square. He shook his head and looked at it. "Don't know." Taking her hand to examine the band more closely, he noticed he had one also. "Let's ask" said Megan.

Johnson returned to the intercom. "Ah, excuse me. Anyone there?"

A pleasant female voice replied "Yes Mr. Johnson, there is someone on staff at all times. Do you need something?" "We were just wondering what the wrist bands were for."

"You are wearing radio biomonitors. They track your temperature, blood pressure, pulse rate, and galvanic skin response, and send a signal to the isolation desk if anything strays out of the norms."

"Oh, OK."

Johnson turned around to discover that Megan had used the time to make her way to the table and begin eating. No, "hungrily devouring" was more descriptive... He joined her. They ate until it was painful, then helped each other back to bed. Too full to sleep or do anything else, even to lie flat, Andrew clicked on the television and began exploring the movie and cable options available on the remote.

The intercom beeped, and Dr. Carson's voice came on. "Megan, Andrew, we need to take some measurements to check your progress. Please just step into the examination room when you're ready."

They dragged themselves out of bed and donned their robes. Andrew's immense organ wasn't comfortable over his shoulder under the robe, so he settled for holding it at the middle, under his robe, just to keep it from hanging beneath the hem. Megan held onto Andrew's shoulder for balance, and they shuffled into the examination room.

Dr. Carson was standing there with the "blood pressure nurse", each wearing a filter mask. Johnson finally noticed that the nurse's nametag read "Melonie." Carson asked them how they were feeling, and if they'd gotten enough rest. They replied that they still felt tired and achy, but not sleepy at the moment.

On a wheeled cart was a strange box-like device that resembled a portable voting booth more than anything else. "This is our portable scanner" explained Carson. "It uses an optical laser, scanning a woman from all angles, and integrates the results to compute volume. Much more accurate than a tape measure, and much quicker than a water-displacement bath." He motioned Megan into the booth. "Just walk in, put your robe in the compartment, stand up straight, and hold your shoulders back." She stepped into the opening, and Carson slid a panel closed. "Let me know when you're ready, and keep your eyes closed." The entire scanning procedure took less than a minute. A bell rang, and Carson told Megan she could put her robe back on and come out.

"Very good. It will be interesting to see how much change there is at the next measurement. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to sit down with both of you and fill in some gaps in your medical history. We're still not clear on a few points."

The Johnsons agreed, and Carson led them back into their isolation room. They sat down at the table, which had been cleared and cleaned during the examination.

"Now," Carson began, "you mentioned that you work for Delta Biotech. We you working there when you had your first serpentitis infection?" Andrew replied that he had been in the accounting period then, and still was."

"Well, until now" replied Carson. "And, did you have any contact with the animals, their experimental rats or mice?"

"No. I pretty much stayed away from that entire floor. I don't even think my card would let me onto that floor."

"Hm. Did you have any contact with someone who worked with the animals?"

"Just me" interjected Megan. "I was supervising the animal group at the time."

"You were at Delta too?"

"Until coming here, yes."

"OK, this is now beginning to make sense" said Carson. "Did you..."

Megan saw where he was headed. "Yes, there was one mouse that the techs called 'Mickey Wadd'. One of the techs actually brought him into my office to show me."

"And you caught a bad cold a few days later?"

"Yes. Of course, the techs all wear gloves and masks when they're handling the animals. Since I was in my office, I wasn't."

"Amazing" said Carson, "The CDC could never find the 'index case' - the first person to contract serpentitis. And all along, it was because they were looking at the wrong gender. They never thought that a woman could carry serpentitis. Were there any side effects?"

"No."

"Excellent. And Andrew here caught your cold, about a week after you came down with yours?"

"Yes."

"OK, so now we know how Andrew contracted serpentitis, and I'm guessing that the other cases will ultimately trace back to some chance contact with you as well. Now, you said something yesterday that I didn't realize earlier, something about vitamins?"

Megan replied "Well, we both take standard multi-vitamins for nutrition. I also give Andrew DHEA, just to make sure he doesn't suffer any loss of testosterone. He is almost 40, after all, and I, um, keep him pretty busy."

Carson nodded "Of course, and DHEA is converted into testosterone in the body, which kept Andrew's virus maximally stimulated. That probably explains why he ended up 25% larger than anyone else. We'll need to take that into account when we launch the commercial product."

"Until now" said Andrew.

"Yes, until now. We managed to isolate a virus from your blood sample, and sequenced it. It looks just like the Delta vector, and has the testosterone promoter sequence, but it is carrying a different gene. It is not the same as the original serpentitis virus. Have you been in contact with any of the experimental animals lately?"

"Doctor, I think this is a case of history repeating itself" interjected Megan again. "I don't supervise the animal group directly any more, but the woman who does reports to me. I was talking to her in her office when one of the techs brought in a new mouse. This one they called 'Long Dong Mickey'. The creature couldn't walk without dragging his penis behind him, like a second tail. And yes, the supervisor and I were not wearing masks, and both of us caught colds a few days later."

"Damn, this sounds like we'll have another outbreak."

"I wouldn't worry yet, Dr. Carson" replied Megan. "Delta has a pretty strict illness policy now, after the first outbreak. Both of us were strictly instructed to go home and stay home as soon as symptoms began. And Carol lives alone. I stayed home until I was no longer contagious, and then stayed home to take care of Andrew. I've been out to the store, but not until after I was no longer infectious."

"OK, that sounds hopeful. We'll keep an ear out for rumors of any reoccurrence. Now, I should have asked you this yesterday: are you currently on contraceptive pills, or any other drug or supplement that contains estrogen?"

"Yes, I'm on the pill" replied Megan. Suddenly she gasped "I didn't have it today!"

"I don't think that will be a problem. We can refill your prescription here. And what part of the cycle are you on at the moment?"

"The estrogen part." She told Carson the brand of pills, and the day of the cycle for her. "Will this cause a problem for..." she indicated her chest.

"Nope. If anything, it makes the breast tissue more responsive. Just something that we'll need to factor in and account for in the measurements."

Carson stood up form the table, saying "I'll have one of the nurses bring you the pills. Should take just a minute."

As he was about to walk out the door into the examination room, Megan asked "Oh, but aren't you going to measure Andrew?"

Carson stopped. "Almost forgot." He tossed her a bundled up tape measure. "Andrew's not going to fit in the scanner any more, so we'll have to do it the old-fashioned way. Just buzz the intercom and tell them the measurements. If you can, we'd like erect length, girth at the base, girth at the widest point, and width and length flaccid if you can catch him then." He winked, and stepped out the door.

"Well, I see its too late to catch you flaccid" said Megan. She could she the displacement of his robe through the glass tabletop. "You heard the man: report to the bed, I have scientific measurements to take!" And with that, she grabbed his arm, pulled him to the bed, and pushed him backwards onto it. She whipped open his robe, grabbed his hardening cock, and flipped it up, nearly hitting him in the face with it. Straddling his thighs on the bed, she removed her own robe, and then slowly tongued him from his balls to the very tip and back. The sensation of her tongue on his shaft, and her burgeoning tits caressing the sides, was enough to make him throb. His cock continued to swell, the head broadening and purpling until it was smooth and shiny. When his breathing became very deep, she grabbed the tape measure and quickly took his measurements and wrote them down. Then she returned, straddled him, and licked his balls while grinding her crotch and tits along the length of his shaft. Andrew alternated between kneading her ass and fondling her breasts. After about 10 more minutes of inspired massage, Megan came, followed almost immediately by Andrew.

"So what were the measurements?"

"I'll tell you later" she replied impishly. She waited until he was in the shower to report the measurements over the intercom, and then shredded the paper. When he stepped out of the bathroom, she flushed the scraps down the toilet, and then took her own shower.

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis VIII

Andrew searched the room, but couldn't find the paper with his measurements. He was still looking when Megan finished her shower. "You won't find it" she taunted, "I already flushed it."

"What for?"

"Here." She slid her arm around his waist, and picked up his cock near the mid-point. "I'm betting that you end up longer than you are tall" she said, swinging his cock back and forth like a heavy rope.

His eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? OK, I'll bet you that *you* end up bigger around than you are tall." This surprised Megan almost enough to make her drop his cock. But not quite.

"Well, I wonder if exercise will help" she said, as she stretched her arm out, letting his cock run through her fingers. She could feel it immediately start to get harder. "I think you're going to need cock-bearers just to walk. Someone to walk along in front of you and carry your cock" she teased.

"You're going to need a bearer too, by the time you're done. I think you've grown just since you went in the shower." She looked down in surprise. "The real question is, which one of us will have to walk backwards?" he continued.

"Whoever loses, of course."

"You're on."

"In the meantime..." she began, but was interrupted by the intercom buzzer.

"Hello Andrew, Megan" said Dr. Carson's voice from the wall. "I have some more documents for your signatures, if you're decent."

Megan disengaged, then tossed Andrew's robe to him and donned her own. Andrew hit the intercom button and replied "I don't think we'll ever be 'decent' again Dr. Carson, but come on in."

Carson walked in with a pile of papers and the receptionist they'd seen yesterday. "Christie here is our Notary Public" explained Carson. "Now, I've had our legal staff draw up employment contracts for each of you, to cover your new career as professional models and spokespersons. I think you'll both give new meaning to the term 'supermodel'" he said with a wink. "Would you like to have your own attorney go over them, or shall I just explain the relevant points?"

Andrew felt himself conversant enough with contracts to plough through the wordy legalese, taking nearly an hour to read through the document carefully while Carson and Megan made small talk about the biotech field.

Finally, Andrew looked up. "Are both contracts identical?"

"Not completely. The only real difference is that, of course, your condition is not actually the result of our product, and that you agree not to reveal that fact to anyone. As our product is very closely based on the original virus, I think it is fair to say that your condition was caused by an 'early form' of the product. Also, since it wasn't our product, there is no warranty where her agreement has one."

Andrew considered. "But my present condition is actually due to two viruses. I thought you said the second one was different?"

"Yes, but as of last night we are developing a second product that is based on number 2. So, you will still be telling the truth. We haven't decided yet whether we'll use both sequences, or just one."

"OK. One more thing: this states that we'll receive certain designer clothing to wear, specifically for our appearances, etc. I think we need to have *all* of our clothing provided. We won't be able to shop anywhere normal."

"Good point. I think we can write that in."

"Also, I want a specific provision providing for our housing, and a provision that says that we get to keep living together as husband and wife."

"Certainly! It is actually much better if you remain married: we have no intention of trying to split you up."

"OK, I think we have a deal then. Megan?"

They both turned to look at Megan, and found that she had fallen asleep in her chair. "I'll have the changes made, and we'll be back in a while. She's going to need more sleep for a few days. How are you feeling? You look like you've almost recovered."

"Yes, I feel a lot better. Still a bit groggy, but nothing like I was."

Carson left Johnson with a bottle of contraceptive pills for Megan, DHEA for Andrew, and vitamins for both of them.

"Why the DHEA?" Andrew asked.

"Well, you've apparently been taking it for quite a while. We wouldn't want you to stop suddenly. Besides, you may need it." He winked. He also changed the monitoring bands on Andrew's and Megan's wrists. "These bands are a little bit different, as they also monitor your blood hormone levels. Also, this patch here serves as a 'panic button.' If you get into trouble, push that three times and we'll be in here in seconds."

Carson and Christie left with their papers, and Andrew lugged Megan to the bed. Not feeling sleepy himself, he logged into the net and checked his email. He sent an email to Delta explaining that he was still out sick, and that neither he nor Megan would be in for at least a week. Then he surfed the web while thinking about how his life was about to change.

Several hours later, the intercom announced dinner. After the table was set and the server had departed, Andrew woke Megan up to eat. Again, they were both ravenously hungry. When they had finished, Carson showed up again with the revised contracts to sign. Andrew went over the terms with Megan, and they both signed.

Since Megan was still relatively awake, Carson had the portable scanner brought back to the examination room, and took her measurements. "Wonderful! You're making great progress. Everything looks fine." As the Johnsons returned to their isolation room, Carson reminded Megan to be sure and take Andrew's measurements again too.

The door clicked shut. "Now Andy, what would you like to do?" Megan dropped her robe, and lifted her arms to put around his neck. Her small frame looked almost overwhelmed by her swelling breasts. Andrew stood mesmerized by the sight. She was already at least as large as the blood pressure nurse, and would probably be larger than Shelia by tomorrow. He thought she must be at least 48 inches around. He stepped forward toward her, but his cock got there first.

"Ohh" said Megan, taking his cock in her hand "what do we have here?" She held it up out of the way, and kissed him, pressing her body against his. Andrew wrapped his arms around her, and was even more aroused to feel how much more of her there was to hold. They stood there, hugging and kissing for several minutes, Andrew growing harder and harder as the kisses grew more and more passionate. Megan began alternating between kissing his face and neck, and kissing his thickening shaft, her right hand caressing it with long, slow strokes. "Now, what do you really want to do?"

"Come over to the bed" said Andrew "and get on your hands and knees."

"Like this?"

"Yes. Now just..." Andrew slid his enormous erection between her thighs. "Here, take the end, and put it between your ... yes, right there." Megan used one hand to hold his shaft tightly against her flat belly, positioning his tremendous cock head between her dangling boobs. "Now what happens?" she said playfully. Andrew began to stroke back and forth, his cock running with enough pre-cum to lubricate her cleavage. On the forward strokes, the head of his cock emerged from between her tits far enough for her to lick and kiss it. On the backward strokes, the sensitive spot beneath the head ended up in her hand, where she massaged it. She ground her pussy against his enormous shaft, providing ample stimulation to her engorged clitoris. Again and again he stroked, slowly picking up speed, rocking her faster and faster until she felt like she was on horseback at full gallop. She came, and came again, and finally he came as well, his crotch pressed against her ass as hard as he could, grabbing her around the waist and pulling back until she was practically sitting on the root of his cock. She wrapped both arms around his shaft and squeezed with arms and thighs, cum hitting the ceiling with a quiet "splat", subsequent pulses sailing across the bed and onto the carpet beyond, then just onto the bed, and finally just oozing down the shaft. Andrew dropped to the bed, exhausted, while Megan quickly grabbed the tape measure and took the measurements. "Well, *that* was nice."

"Are you going to tell me the measurements now?"

"Don't you have to go to the bathroom or something?"

Grumbling theatrically, Andrew got off the bed, deliberately letting his deflating cock drag behind him. Megan watched as it slid off the bed, hit the floor, and was dragged along the carpet behind Andrew as he shuffled off to the bathroom. He disappeared inside, and hauled his organ in behind him.

"You're going to get carpet burn that way!" shouted Megan sarcastically.

When Andrew closed the bathroom door, Megan turned on the television, and turned up the volume. She then hit the intercom and reported the measurements she'd taken. Tired again, she crawled back into bed, turned down the TV volume, and was asleep before Andrew returned.

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis IX

Megan took his cock in hand and led him down the long hallway. His cock grew as they walked, until she had to carry it under her arm, then haul it over her shoulder. Her huge breasts bobbed back and forth. They walked into a large room, like the grand entryway in a mansion or public building. A window high overhead cast a dim light down upon them. They came to the foot of a long staircase that appeared to extend several floors upward. Megan turned to him and said "Stay here." She then climbed the stairs, his cock growing along, as if she was unreeling a garden hose from a spool. He could feel the sensation of the underside of his cock being dragged up the smooth wooden stairs. She disappeared into the gloom at the top. "Get down on your knees" came her voice from the distant darkness. He did. Then he felt a warm, wet friction on the head of his penis, out of sight in the murky distance, and knew that she was licking the head and shaft all over. His cock slowly swelled and hardened along its entire length, becoming a huge veiny shaft a foot and a half in diameter, lying atop the stairs. His balls swelled until they rested on the stair step in front of him, and filled the space between his spread legs. He felt something cold and slippery applied to his shaft, followed by a pressure. He looked up to see, and feel, Megan sliding down the length of his cock, riding his schlong like a giant banister, slamming into him at the bottom with a firm embrace. He could smell her scent, and the scent of the lubricating lotion, and the sweat from her exertion. Immediately, she jumped up and ran back up the stairs, only to return sliding down his enormous cock. Again she jumped up, and ran back up the stairs. Now Shelia came sliding down his cock, followed by Christie, followed by Melonie, followed again by Megan. They began sliding down almost constantly, in a variety of positions, some coasting face first on oiled tits, others sitting up, others ass first with legs raised. Then they started rubbing their hands along his shaft as they ran up the stairs, so that it felt like he was fucking a giantess, up and down, in and out. Now the women were sliding down in combinations, two nurses together, facing each other and holding each other's tits against his shaft as they slid, or tonguing each other as they slid on their tits. Now the women were sliding down and swelling as they came: each time one came down, her boobs increased as if being pumped full of water by the slide. The slide felt incredibly long, as if his cock were the length of a football field. They moaned as they slid down, and panted as they ran back up. They returned again and again, until their tits were so huge that they spanned the staircase, and they had to slide down backwards, their enormous tits sliding down his cock and the stairs at the same time, until Megan landed against him, her ass cheeks firm and soft in his crotch, her fragrant hair in his face, his arms stretched forward holding the wall of breast in front of them, and he came and came and came.

"Well, did we have a nice dream?"

(c)2002 [email protected]

Serpentitis X

The succeeding days passed the same way, marked by the inexorable growth of Andrew's cock and Megan's breasts, punctuated by daily meetings and measurements. One meeting was a brainstorming session to think of possible spin-offs to exploit (movie cameos, talk shows, clothing lines, porno, jumbo sex toys, dairy products, condoms, the list was endless). Andrew suggested that Megan could promote real estate. "She's got huuuuge ... tracts of land. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink." When Carson finally recognized the reference to Monty Python, he decided it was best not to associate Python Bio with the old British comedy troupe. "Customers would show up expecting us to walk silly. Or worse yet, that the doctors would all be wearing lederhosen with handkerchiefs on their heads. No, not the image we want at all." Porno was also shelved for the time being, on the grounds that they wanted the products to be first associated with more ordinary people, and not with strippers and adult film stars. "That will follow eventually, but we first want the product to be acceptable to the average middle class man and woman."

Andrew's growth stopped after a few more days, at a truly stupendous size. They had to find an ugly seamstress, sworn to secrecy, to come and measure him for clothing. (Her eyes had bugged out at the first sight of him, but she did her job, muttering about "damn scientists, freakshow, perverts all of 'em.") With the thought in mind that he would be appearing in public again at some point in the future, not to mention actually famous, he began to practice exercising control over his erections. He was able to suppress erection while watching Showtime, and eventually while watching the Playboy channel, but could never resist Megan's merest effort to make him hard. (This control saved him endless embarrassment later, as it became common at his public appearances for women to flash their tits at him, trying to arouse him by any means possible. Beautiful women, most of them stacked (some undoubtedly Python customers), with overwhelming urges to know him carnally... well, he guessed he knew how rock stars felt.)

Megan continued to grow for nearly a week after Andrew stopped, and spent most of her non-sleeping time exercising. The amount of weight she gained surprised her, as did the energy it took just to stand up. Her breasts went from volleyballs to basketballs, then to pumpkins and on to jumbo watermelons. Andrew ran out of fruit and vegetables to compare them too, but she continued to grow nonetheless. The MEV vector was designed to induce growth of supporting ligaments and skin along with other breast tissue, so she escaped the fate of mammary hypertrophy patients, who often ended up with huge but shapeless breasts. Hers were absolutely enormous, but still very well rounded and formed. Of course, lacking muscle and bone, that amount of tissue cannot be self-supporting without being unacceptably rigid, so her breasts did hang down when unsupported. However, they were still firm enough to project forward more than two feet. She learned not to sleep on her back, because the weight bothered her, and couldn't sleep on her front without bending her back uncomfortably. They soon fell into a standard nightly posture, each sleeping on their side, facing each other, typically with his huge cock sandwiched between her smothering tits.

The day after her growth stopped, a team of specialists came in to measure her and design adequate support garments. She rejected the idea of wheels. Andrew suggested that the bra should have a series of strap handles along the side, so that a team of bearers could hoist them along, whereupon Megan bumped him off balance. A week later, Carson declared the isolation concluded, and both subjects in complete health. They put on their new clothes (including, in Megan's case, a bra prototype), and were driven back to their house in a van to pick up personal effects. Python staff took care of closing out their utilities, forwarding their mail, and moving their furniture, essentially relocating them into their new "showcase" home. Days were now spent meeting with marketing and advertising specialists, corporate communications experts, an agent, and numerous professionals whose job it was to prepare them for the spotlight of fame. They were trained what to say, what not to say, how to deflect a question or steer a conversation, and how to do all of it while appearing completely untrained. Their free time was spent in the bedroom, or in the pool or spa immediately outside the bedroom. They found that sitting in the spa took essentially all of the weight off Megan's back, and that the mere sight of Megan's breasts floating in the water, and extending all the way across the spa to press against Andrew's chest, was enough to make him erect almost instantly. "Instantly" of course can take a few minutes when that much cock is involved. His erection would swell toward Megan, who would search for it by feel (not being able to see anything below her boobs, which covered the water's surface). Finding it, she invariably would rub Andrew to orgasm, often forcing him up through her cleavage.

After three weeks of intensive training, a week of vacation, and a few more days of "brushing up", Carson determined that they were ready. Carson had used the time to finally nail down the agreements with Delta, obtaining exclusive rights to both serpentitis viruses free and clear, leaving no visible link back to Delta. A press conference was scheduled to announce that Python was filing two applications with the FDA, and to introduce their new spokespersons. The press were left gasping for breath at Megan, and incredulous when they heard Andrew's particulars (his clothes were much more capable of concealing his anatomy). Full details of their measurements (including an oversize mammogram) were posted on the company website, along with testimonials from several nationally-known and respected doctors as to their authenticity. The buzz was enormous.

The Johnsons limited their appearances at first, granting a few interviews in the first week, and then only appearing once a month. After a few months, the appearances slowly became more frequent, and they began slowly building excitement about the Python products undergoing FDA review. By the time eight months had passed, they were full celebrities, household words, regular jokes and features of late night talk shows. Interest in the Python products was intense. The impatient attempted to break into the Python clinic on a weekly basis. Fortunately, the data submitted was sufficient for the FDA to approve both products (although some critics argued that it was simply a matter that the FDA did not dare to reject either product, for fear of starting riots).

The products were instant successes. The products were administered only at Python clinics, in order to prevent anyone from copying their virus, or from attempting to pass the virus to others. Clinics had been set up in Boston, Los Angeles, Paris, and Tokyo, with more in the planning stages. Customers were given comfortable rooms, similar to the isolation suites, and provided ample time to browse the Python catalogs of clothing and paraphernalia for their "special needs." Men were also given a special Python lapel pin, so that they could discreetly advertise their status. Married men often found that their wives refused to let them wear, or even keep, such pins, but in consolation found a flourishing 2nd hand market for them in online auction sites.

(c)2002 [email protected]

"Hi, I'm Doug Miller, and tonight on Really Late TV we have a couple of adults who are more 'adult' than most of us. Andy and Megan Johnson, I think you've heard of them. Andy Johnson gives new meaning to the term "johnson", and his wife, woohoo!, she gives new meaning to *my* johnson. I think I'm getting bigger just looking at her, and I haven't even had the treatment! Yet... Hey Oscar, have you had the treatment yet? Whoa, when did you start keeping a saxophone in your pants?"

"Hey Doug, I've always had a saxophone in my pants."

"Oscar, remind me to have the boss buy you a new case. You know, she is so big that not only can she not see her feet, she can't see anyone else's feet either! And they say that he's so long that after he takes a whiz, he throws it over his shoulder while he washes his hands! Anyway, let's bring out our guests with a warm welcome, Andy and Megan!"

"So Megan, is Andy *really* as big as his press says?"

"Are you kidding? He needs a second chair just for ... Oh, what can I say on national TV? Well, he needs another chair just for 'it'. And if I want to be ... affectionate in the car, I have to make sure the sunroof is open first."

"Dear, I have to open the sunroof as soon as I get in the car, just in case you bend over."

"And Megan, what do you say to critics who say that you're not entirely natural?"

"I say 'of course I'm not natural - I'm *super* natural'. Nobody else has ... (can I say breasts?) nobody else has boobs like this! At least, not yet. If they're talking about silicone, well, they can look at the mammogram that they can order from our website. No silicone there, and its signed by two certified X-ray technicians and physicians. If they're talking about 'did I grow this way', the answer is 'not by myself'! Here Andrew, would you hold this one for me?"

"Now who needs two chairs!"

"Now, Andy, you recently appeared on a British television show wearing a kilt. How did that go?"

"Well, we brought a clip. Do you want to roll it?"

"Roll the clip!"

***

"Now that has to be the longest kilt I've ever seen."

"Yes, well it was really more of a publicity stunt the show came up with. You know, how is a kilt going to cover all this, tune in and see."

"Not exactly a traditional kilt, was it?"

"No, of course not. But then, I'm not Scottish either. They basically made me a kilt long enough to drag on the floor, and put two slits on the sides for my legs so that I could walk in the thing. They even made up their own tartan, based on the Python Bio logo."

"Amazing. Now Megan, you've just come out with your own line of fashions. Tell us about them."

"Well, Doug, its basically a complete line of clothing designed specifically for the woman with a bigger bust."

"Bigger than what?"

"Well, not bigger than these, of course. No, they cover sizes starting at about DD and upwards all the way to me."

"You're new to design, aren't you"

"Well, yes. My background is in science, but I've taken that analytical skill and applied it to the special needs of Python customers, and married that to a refined sense of taste. And we have a bit of help from some of the big names."

"Could you stand up and model the dress you're wearing? This is one of your designs?"

"Yes, sure."

"Just make sure to stand far enough away from the desk, there, Megan."

"Ha ha. This particular dress is a new design, made so that it is easier to put on and take off by yourself. You don't actually have to see what you're doing."

"And do you put it on and take it off by yourself."

"No, not if I can help it!"

"Thank you Megan, that was quite, quite, ah stimulating. Now Andy, you're wearing a fairly special garment there yourself, aren't you?"

"Yes Doug, this is one of Megan's designs too. Well, I should say we designed it together."

"Well, the loose leg pants are certainly in style now."

"Yes, thank God for that. Now, these actually have a separate codpiece that's kind of built in. The compartment runs the length of the pants leg, although you can't really tell just from looking. Well, unless... Actually, my codpiece is a bit crowded, but they couldn't make the cod extending past the end of the pants leg, so I end up kind of scrunched up and packed in. I have a cord up here, if I pull that I can open the far end, or cause the whole thing to open up along this seam. Anyway, you see, there's a flap here that hides the separation unless you don't want it hidden, and the pants are made so that you can release them from the cod, and they basically fall off, regardless of any ... obstruction."

"I imagine that must be handy."

"Oh yes, even the regular clients find it very convenient. Nothing worse then really wanting to get your pants off quickly, and being prevented by the *reason* you want to get your pants off quickly."

"Now, there was something in the press recently: Megan, how tall are you?"

"I'm five foot five inches."

"And your bustline is...?"

"Ninety-two inches."

"And Andy, you're how tall?"

"I'm six foot one, Doug."

"And your *other* measurement?"

"At my peak, I'm about 78 inches long."

"Now, you gave an interview in which you said that the two of you had a small wager, right?"

"Yes, she bet that I was going to be longer than I was tall, and I bet her that she would be bigger around than she was tall."

"And it appears that you both won. So what was wagered?"

"She said I was going to need someone to carry ... it, and I said she would need someone to carry hers. So that's what we bet. Of course, I think *I* really won, because she exceeded her height by a lot more than I did. But we settled."

"I see, and how did you settle?"

"We each carry the other, and walk side by side. You see, the codpiece here is held down by Velcro, it comes loose, here you go Megan, just take this end. I'll just take this one... Don't start stroking it now, its already tit enough - I mean *tight* enough - I think we have to go now. Come on!"

"Astounding! And there they go! Aren't they quite the couple? Now, we're going to cut away to a commercial, and our next guest I'll have to introduce from here, because I'm not coming out from behind this desk for quite some time..."

(c) 2002 [email protected]