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The Orca's Experiments

For Sanmer

By Draconicon

Dr. Miskatonic was something of a madman, even by the standards of super villains. He had the idea that he might be able to extract not just the powers of another super from someone's body, but their thoughts and free will, as well. Those that were stronger than the orca mocked him. Those that were weaker quietly made the choice to stay the hell out of his way.

It turned out, he wasn't wrong. He was quite mad, of course, as no one could have made that leap in logic without being at least a little bit insane, but he was completely right, as well.

"There, there, Lord Doom-Swayer," the orca said, rubbing the shark subject's forehead. "I do believe that we're almost done with the body-scans, and then we get on to the fun bits."

The shark - a superhero by the name of Doom-Swayer - groaned up at him. He ignored the grunts that came past the rubber gag that he had shoved past the hero's mouth, ensuring that the only thing that he heard were little grunts and groans that had little business bothering him. He hummed under his breath, checking the various restraints that he had put to use keeping the super-strong hero from breaking through.

There were the usual hard-light projectors, of course, as that was just part and parcel for what was needed to keep them pinned down. They projected four beams of light across the hero, one at the chest, one at the waist, and two along the legs. That, however, would have been useless without the double-reinforced titanium steel table underneath him, ensuring that there was no chance that the table would bend from the shark's constant wriggling.

Then, of course, there were the secondary restraints. Half-liquid, half-solid latex ran down from the ceiling, coming together as cords and wires that connected to the shark's pinned arms, wrapping around the wrists and forming bubble-mittens to keep those fists from causing any harm to anyone. Others rested at the ankles, shoulders, and neck, gluing the hero to the table.

And to top it all off, he had removed the hero's super-belt and given him a thick metal harness, something that was even now being pulled down by a magnet built into the table. All in all, it made it all but impossible for the hero to do anything.

"Now, scans show...perfect health. Wonderful."

"Mmmph!"

"You think that I would accept anyone sick? Goodness, no."

"Mmm-mmph!"

"Oh. Oh! You want to say something."

"Mmm-hmm!"

The shark nodded his head rapidly. Dr. Miskatonic considered it for a moment, then shrugged it off. There was little reason to give him that sort of freedom, particularly at the moment.

Instead, he pulled down a couple of vials that hung near the ceiling in other hard-light constructions. He checked the vials, put two back and withdrew two more. Nodding when he had the right ones, he turned back to the shark.

"Now, just to make clear what is going to happen. I'm going to be dosing you with these." He held up the vials. "The chemical names are unimportant - and likely unknown to you, since I came up with them - but they will begin the process of converting the energy you use to think to energy used to bolster your testicles."

"...Mmph 'lls?"

"Yes, your balls, for lack of a better term. The more you think, the bigger your balls will grow, and the harder time that you will have for free thought. More to the point, it should - though this is unproven - transmit the various biochemical reactions that you use to super-charge your muscles to your seed. Think of it like creating a seed within your seed, which can later be harvested."

The shark looked at him like he was completely mad. Of course, that was a very familiar sort of expression, and it didn't offend him nearly as much as it once had. Instead, he tapped the rubber gag in the shark's mouth, watching as the center opened up to his touch. The malleable rubber was very good at obeying its creator.

While Lord Doom-Swayer was staring down in utter shock and before he could start trying to shout through the hole in the gag, he upended the various vials. The first two that he had described went in first, followed by a third that he was keeping a surprise.

One had to maintain some controls, after all.

As soon as the goop had gone down the shark's throat, he reached out and stroked a finger along the shark's cock. Unlike some, there was no double-shaft on this one, but the one that he had was thick, meaty, and more than sufficiently girthy for the purposes of the experiment. He gave it a few strokes, watching as the long, pale length started rising up, then pulled gently to expose the blue flesh of the head. The shark groaned, his body writhing as much as the restraints allowed.

"It's entirely natural to be aroused by those that are more powerful than you. Merely an evolutionary trait, allowing your survival. Well, that's my theory, at least."

The doctor chuckled, pulling at one of the various rubber tubes over his head. This one dragged down a longer tube attached to it, thick at the base and growing thinner the further it went from it. He licked the edge, rubbed his saliva in, and then pressed the rounded tip to the head of the shark's cock.

"Now, let's see how long it takes for you to shoot that first load."

"Mmmph!?"

"I did say that you would be milked. Let's see how long this takes."

It was clear that at least one of the serums were working. The shark's eyes darted from place to place, but no sooner did he start thinking or plotting than he started groaning. Dr. Miskatonic glanced down, chuckling to himself as the barely-visible balls down there were slowly pulled into focus, churning away visibly.

One success.

"I would suggest that you don't think too hard, or you might find yourself completely unable to think at all."

Of course, that would be the ideal outcome. After all, a good, loyal servant need not think when he had a master to do that for him. But that was for the hero to find out. And it would be more interesting if the hero didn't believe him and tried to push himself.

And sure enough, those balls started bloating further. The more that the hero plotted, the more that thought-energy went right between his legs. The orca smiled, pulling his lab coat a bit tighter together as he watched. Truly, a marvel to behold.

Shaking his head, he brought the tube down properly. The shark's cock slotted in with ease, the thick head pushing deep into the tube and stretching it all the way down. The rubber end, slippery with spit - and soon, the shark's own pre-cum - wiggled down like a mouth, attaching to the very base of the shaft, the lips reaching down towards the balls and the crotch. It didn't take long for the whole thing to start writhing, undulating like a long throat, swallowing around the shaft.

Lord Doom-Swayer started moaning immediately, arching his back and shivering from head to toe. Every swallow going through the milker had an obvious effect on his cock, making him harder, making him moan and pant. He gasped through his nose, his mouth still blocked off. Grunts and moans rose with increasing frequency, and his hand-mittens curled all the tighter as his fingers spasmed inside.

And all the while, his balls continued to grow, swelling larger and larger until they looked almost like they would have fit onto a horse better than a shark. He made notes of that, watching out of the corner of his eye as little balls of fluid were pulled out from near the tip of the cock bulge. That would be the thicker blasts of pre-cum starting, as well as perhaps some of the free will that the shark still had left.

Of course, no way to know if the power is being drained, but if one of the formulas are working, nothing to say that the other isn't.

He smiled to himself, sitting down to bounce those balls up and down. They were very heavy, he realized, and sagging down. They had probably never been so full in Lord Doom-Swayer's life. Dr. Miskatonic looked up, and he saw the glassy eyes that he had expected from the constant draining of thought-chemicals.

Good boy...keep thinking until you can't...

He gripped the base of the milking tube, giving it the signal that it needed to kick into high gear. The well-lubed interior suddenly clenched down, showing off the shark's cock in high relief, showing off every detail of the thick, veiny shaft. Lord Doom-Swayer moaned through the gag, throwing his head back, panting hard through his nose. He was like a maddened male in rut, trying to thrust his cock further down the milking tube, trying to get it into whatever depth he could find.

"That's it...just a little more..."

Whatever sane part in the hero's mind was no longer in charge. Instead, the rut had taken hold. The shark slammed his hips forward, bouncing them with bruising force off the hard-light constructs, the bondage almost failing before the magnet dragged the super-male down.

Hmmm...close...

The milking tube contracted once more, and then the shark moaned. The spasms of climax ran through his body, and the sudden surge of 'swallowing' happening further up the tube confirmed that it was a bigger than average load being taken away. But it was more than that as he looked down. There, where the milking tube connected to Lord Doom-Swayer's crotch, there was something even more important to see.

Some of the rubber had bled along. His balls, still swollen though slightly shrunken, had taken on a gray-black sheen. They were slowly being transformed, turned just like the rest of the shark's sex. It wouldn't be long before that long cock was turned into a rubber rod.

It seems that the third vial is a success, as well.

Dr. Miskatonic made note of that, standing up and patting the shark on the chest.

"I think that you'll be safe enough to leave here for a while. Don't worry about thinking. I'll be back to do that for you in a while."

"Mmmph!"

"In the meantime, try and relax. You won't have much downtime from now on..."

The End

Summary: A rather mad scientist orca torments a shark superhero.

Tags: M/M, Supers, Shark, Orca, Lab, Bondage, Milking, Rubber, Potions, Forced Orgasm, Ball Growth, Orgasm, Cum, Impending Drone,