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The Hormone Remote - by elroycohen (~BBW[Multiple], ~~WG, Pregnancy, Sci-Fi)

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elroycohen

Steampunk Psycho
Joined
Feb 23, 2007
Messages
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~BBW(Multiple), ~~WG, Pregnancy, Science Fiction - A self-described super-genius develops a tool that eventually gets him noticed by an unsavory character.

The Hormone Remote
by elroycohen

It is not easy growing up as a misunderstood genius. You laugh I am sure, but it is true, and infinite knowledge does not make you a popular child. For that matter it does not make you a popular young man or even adult, by any means. It is not something I can truly explain the reason for (which is unusual for me), because I have not been on the other side of the fence. It is hard for me to fathom what you weak minded people are thinking, or if you are. But I digress.

I have been a genius ever since I said my first words at 8 months of age. I cannot even begin to imagine how it must feel to not be able to comprehend something with ease inside of a few minutes of being introduced to it. Math, science, social studies, heck even art class came easy to me. By first grade I was bored in school and testing out of classes three years ahead of my age.

So as you can imagine other kids hated me growing up. I was the stereotypical loner wandering the halls talking to myself because no one else would. The difference between me and the twerps you yourself ostracized back in your day being it did not upset me in the least. I was pretty content in my supreme intelligence.

The little interaction I got with people my age was when they would rough me up in the parking lot after I got an award for my perfect grade point. Or when my sister would bring her friends over to the house and they would look at me like some science experiment as they walked by to Mindy’s room.

So I had a lot of free time growing up. For fun I invented things I could make in my room. I had an engine that ran on carbonated drinks. It could produce a horse power of 25, although it did not run well on diet drinks because that tends to lose carbonation quicker because of the lack of…Oh look I’m digressing again. But anyway, by the time I was getting into high school I had patent worthy inventions sitting in my closet. I was starting to focus more on what interested me. It was not enough to have a zit cream that really worked, instantly and a virtual reality headset I cobbled together from old computer and stereo parts. I wanted to work on things that related to me and what I was interested in. Believe it or not, being an outcast loner who never even got a second glance from ladies I was still very interested in the fairer sex.

But before you go thinking I was trying to create a Bride of Frankenstein, I was actually focusing in on hormones and glands. Which seems odd, but being the sole male in a house with women you tend to become aware of just how hormones affect women’s behavior and appearance. Take my sister for example; she was quite infamous for her drastic mood swings once a month. Not just the typical, mildly annoyed, overstressed type moods. Mindy could go into full on Hulk mode. I had seen grown men looked frightened when she did it in public. There of course were the other extremes too. She would sometimes lock herself in her room for a week or walk around so blissfully happy one might think she was inebriated.

Many doctor visits and tests came to the conclusion that this was simply how Mindy’s body was wired. Her hormones short circuited once a month and caused mood swings that could snap a person’s neck if they tried to keep up. Not much could be done about other then a few prescription drugs which ended up working as well as I would imagine voodoo would have. Or maybe voodoo would have been a little more successful, who knows. At any rate, knowing myself to be ridiculously smarter then the quack that diagnosed my sister I made it my goal to come up with something that actually worked.

Now I should mention that my sister no doubt gets her runaway hormones from our mother. Although mom is not quite as out of control with mood swings, she has had her issues with hormones. Mom was a little flat-chested twig before having Mindy, but as soon as she got pregnant she blossomed into a busty C cup. After giving birth her chest shrank back down a size, only in the left side. Her metabolism also did a 180 on her and soon she was 60 pounds overweight. Then she got pregnant with me and her chest swelled back out to a more noticeably lopsided D and an FF cup. When her hormones eventually evened out the woman who had been able to buy clothes from the young men’s section was a top heavy 250 pound single mother of two. Of course the same doctor who would later see my sister wrote my mother’s wild weight and chest fluxuation to hormones that could not be helped.

And so while other teenagers were reading…um, well teenagers don’t read anymore, but for the sake of comparison, while other teenagers were flipping through the instruction booklet for their latest video game or sneaking a peak at their dad’s Playboy, I was scouring used book stores for medical textbooks and looking up medical journals from all the top universities online. I would gather what I could from the information available and fill in the blanks the PHD’s left with my insurmountable IQ. Before too long I knew all the ins and outs of hormones and glands and just how much they dictate everything from behavior and thinking to the physical aspects of all humans. Of course I focused in more on female specific information. After countless nights of lying awake either with my head in a textbook or staring at my ceiling working through a theory, I not only understood how it all worked, but more importantly how to control it.

It took longer then I would have thought to come up with the solution specially trained doctors and educated researchers could not. There were a few formulas that caused me days of grief and since my own theory mixed biology with physics and electronic engineering there was some experimentation to work through, but before I knew I was headed in the right direction.

Three months and I had a prototype I was ready to test.

My prototype was not a drug at all mind you. My research proved pretty quickly that pharmaceuticals are the second or even third best option to alter a woman’s hormonal activity. Rubbish you say? I would expect that, and I won’t bore you with details that would give you a migraine. Suffice it to say there are class of sound waves that are for the most part immeasurable by just about all instrumentation, save a few the government has stashed away, that are capable of effecting human production of hormones and activity of glands. It was just a matter of deciphering what immeasurable frequency of sound waves does what and how to find a convenient way to deliver those waves. Now I know I said I would not go into details, but above and beyond cracking the code of sound waves I also developed a small tool that could not only produce these sound waves but also focus them in on an area the size of a postage stamp. The first model was a small little tube with a few buttons and knobs the size of a television remote. There were numerous things that could be affected with my little invention in theory and numerous methods, from instantaneous to timed to start days later. Not just toning down mood swings or evening out breasts that had increased unevenly due to pregnancy. In fact it would be easier to list off the things I could not have control over with my invention. But at this point all of this was theory. I would need to test it to prove any of it out.

The only test subject I had was my sister and mother. Perhaps it was my social awkwardness but I chose to go about the test discreetly. Since I could try my invention out quickly and quietly without them even feeling or being aware at all, it seemed for the best. Just in case an unexpected development occurred, however unlikely.

I did my sister first and at the risk of forgoing any dramatic build up it worked. She was home from college and I focused the sound waves on the back of her neck a couple minutes a day for a week. Four weeks went by without my sister going into a blind rage or sullen stupor. A first in almost ten years.

That was not all I tested in sis. Since I was ridding her of a nightmare she had been living with most of her life I decided it would be fair to test out a few of the other more physical changes I could make happen with my new instrument. Even though I had my mom around to test as well I was not sure how age would come into play, so for the three or so months Mindy was home I concentrated on her. I tried a few things. Some were relatively tame. Bloating for instance. After a few minutes of sound wave treatment one night in front of the TV Mindy work up the next morning so puffy and swollen she could not button her pants and her cheeks looked like she was playing trombone. A few more minutes of inconspicuous treatment and she was back to normal by the time she finished breakfast and had forgotten about the incident by lunch.

Some were not quite so tame. One weekend I had my modestly chested sister unable to even think about stuffing her cans into her B cups because they were so swollen with milk. I chose a time that she would not be concerned with the temporary change. One late night she teetered home drunk after a night out and staggered into the kitchen looking for munchies with her perky little mounds outlined by her shirt. She staggered out a few minutes later with a plate of cold pizza in one hand a two liter of soda in the other while breasts that looked like water balloons flopped around under a t-shirt that was damp with milk. She barely even noticed and certainly did not let her temporarily leaky udders slow down her post bar snacking. By morning she was back to her usual bust size and concerned more with her hangover then her damp shirt.

There were a few more tests in the name of science. I sparked Mindy’s appetite and slowed her metabolism to a crawl. With just a few short treatments while she was watching TV her hunger and lethargy lasted the entire summer. That alone would have been enough to send Mindy back to school with another 20 pounds on top of the freshmen 15 she had clearly picked up during her time away. But I also tried out my tool’s ability to make the body produce fat from nothing and store it exactly where I told it too with sound that even the most sensitive dog ears could not pick up. Within a few hours I was able to add an extra five pound to each hip. With even less time then that she had slightly thicker and much flabbier upper arms.

As Mindy lay around all summer giving in to her appetite while I experimented with my new toy she went from a little plump to down right fat by the time it came to start thinking about going back to college. She was a constantly snacking, lazy young woman with an ass that stretched even her biggest pairs of sweatpants.

Before you get mad you should realize I had more testing to do and by the time Mindy was pulling out of the driveway in her rusty Chevy to return to college she was close to the size she was when she arrived at the beginning of the summer. Mindy did not need my help to add excess flesh to her middle. She accomplished that quite nicely over the course of her young adult life. By the time college graduation came around my sister was looking for size 24 business suits to fit her cellulite covered ass, but that’s beside the point.

Now I am sure the whole story sounds downright unbelievable and I don’t blame you a bit. But for me as I watched in person what I described to you it was not even that amazing or spectacular, simply just the playing out of the theories and formulas I had figured in my head over and over.

So by the time I turned my remote control onto mom I was no longer testing, simply helping.

Time and my mother’s lifestyle had continued on what pregnancy and her out of whack hormones had started. By that time she was wearing a 52H cup that was tight on one breast and loose on the other. Very overweight had become obese as she tipped the scales at a whopping 370 pounds on her 5’4” frame. I knew all this not because mom shared, but because my little remote also could scan a person’s body with the same sound waves that could affect it so drastically and get a reading that was accurate to with a tiny percentage.

I evened mom out to an F cup, which was the largest size they carried in out local department store. I also brought her weight down to a still robust but more manageable 270. The doctor thought it was some miracle and wanted the info on how she had managed to turn her weight around, probably so he could go write a book and cash in. Of course my mom lied and said it was all due to her willpower and exercise regimen when in actuality she had no clue since she had been eating and not exercising the same as she always had.

You may wonder why I stopped at 270 when that is still considered very heavy nowadays. The truth is I had always known my mom to be fat. That is what I associated a loving mother with. And so to take that completely away did not seem right. She would not have been my mom had she been a slender size 6. I am sure that also somehow plays in my overall appreciation of overweight women, but we will get to that later.

In the meantime I had a miracle tool and I needed to find a way to make it profitable for me. Yes even as intelligent as I am I fell right in line with the popular thinking of “money is king”. Around that time I was mulling over various full scholarships from top ten universities. So the revelation that my invention was a phenomenal success played into where I went and what I majored in.

I went to medical school to all the while perfecting my hormone controlling gadget. By the time I was breezing through my residency I had a little remote that looked like a Star Trek prop. I could program in whatever I wanted to affect with one hand and even dictate when I wanted the changes to take effect. And that last part was the biggest breakthrough I had; no longer being constrained to time limits. I had always had the ability to instantly spark a woman’s appetite with an urgent need for excessive amounts of junk food or fire up a lady’s milk producing glands with an immediacy that could turn knockers into leaky milk jugs in minutes, but I had always been somewhat limited in terms of weight gain, which I admit was my favorite, albeit unnecessary, part of the tool. Somewhere between my bachelor’s and master’s degrees I figured out how to command the hormones to convert a person’s body heat into calories in the blink of an eye. Well maybe not a blink, ten pounds a minute is the max, which is something to see for sure. And you don’t have to be as good as me in math to figure if you program that in for five minutes…well, you get it I am sure.

That brings me to the fact that during this time I was testing my remote sparingly. I stayed away from the “instant” weight gain so as to not attract unwanted attention. I knew the time and place for me to make good use of my invention was coming so I figured it was not worth jeopardizing to turn every woman I saw into a waddling 300 pounder in a mater of minutes. That is not to say that women I dated did not go up a few sizes in a matter of a few weeks and get especially horny on dates, or that female professors I had class with did not develop cravings so intense they became easy to bribe with a few boxes of chocolates, but I mostly behaved myself.

I did have the need to do some practical testing for newer models of my remote. Again my family became my guinea pigs. I tested the instant weight altering feature on my sister in the form of weight loss. You see as I mentioned before my sister needed no help to fill out her figure and by the time I had a near perfect hormonal remote she was a compulsive eating mother of three who had not seen her feet since child number one.

That year when we got together for the holidays I melted a dozen or so pounds off her during the present opening. Just enough to give the seams of her stretchy pants a little breather and to prove to myself it could be done. She, and the rest of my family, remained completely unaware. The only evidence that anything had been done other then a couple inches off a 50 or so inch waist was a little sweating and a small red blotch on the back of her neck from her hormones working so hard. Of course once I accomplished the successful test I replaced the lost poundage exactly where it had been around sis’s waist. It seemed the courteous thing to do for Sis’ husband who suspiciously kept her supplied with Christmas cookies the whole time I was there. Maybe it was only something a fellow admirer of larger woman would notice.

It is almost scary as much power I had and how easy it was. One just had to be light years ahead of modern science, which of course I don’t expect anyone to understand.

As I got closer to my doctorate I had come up with a lot of practical uses for my invention. Countless problems could be solved with my remote that people would pay tons of money to me for. The hard part was not revealing the secret to everyone else.

The obvious money making use for my invention was weight loss, I know. Millions, perhaps billions were waiting to be made that way. But I had no intention of using my powers for what I deemed evil. Well, maybe not evil but not desirable for sure. And so I came up with what I thought was an equally profitable use for my invention.

I decided to focus my medical schooling on becoming an obstetrician, although I never intended to deliver one baby. My plan was to open an all natural fertility clinic. I needed the degree to look legit, even though I knew it all before I even set foot in a class room.

After I had the degree in hand I let a few people whom I met through the university that had deep pockets and gullible minds in on my secret and got the necessary funding.

I then concocted this whole machine that looked something like what is used for MRI’s. I even got it patented. Thing is it was a joke. Something created just to get simpler minds to wrap around the fact I was fixing their infertility. If I were just to show them the remote control and tell them that I just needed to point it at exposed skin for a minute and they could go they would never believe it. Or if they did they would never pay me thousands of dollars to do so little. And so there was this whole show I created - not just for patients but for my staff and investors who would think me some lunatic if I tried to explain to their little minds the truth - that involved this whole procedure of donning hospital scrubs and going into a clean room and letting the machine slide them into place for an hour so. Of course by that time I was done palming the remote to point at them for a few minutes and was just doing math problems in my head to pass the time.

My success rate was off the charts. I would throw one here or there just to avoid unwanted attention. Women were lining up not just because of the success and non-invasive nature of the treatment, but because of the benefit of not having the side effect of women winding up pregnant with septuplets. No octo-moms in my clinic.

Women who could not get pregnant after years of trying got pregnant usually within weeks of seeing me. Just to keep thing interesting for me I did fabricate the side effect of weight gain, advertised it right up front. Women gained somewhere between 30 and 80 pounds depending on how I was feeling at the time. Usually I timed it out so just as they found out they were pregnant they could already make use of maternity clothes, or at least a few sizes larger then they had been. None seemed to care. They would stuff their fat rolls into their formerly fitting clothes just to come give me a hug and rave about how thankful they were after they got a positive test. It did my heart good to see the porkier women come in glowing. Then there was the actually pregnancy that added a fair amount of weight to my patients as well, naturally. Women often came back for their final follow-up before I handed them off to the local hospital looking like they could be rolled easier then they could waddle on their stout little legs.

Of course I also took the opportunity for a lesser known treatment that I did not charge for. My success rate for making infertile women fertile was only bested by my lesser known success rate for making sure new mom’s were more then ready to feed their baby. Perky little ta-tas had a way of ripening like prize-winning tomatoes into heavy udders during a pregnancy that I helped cause.

For a fraction what other treatments cost I was opening the door to the miracle of motherhood for women who would never had experienced it otherwise. They were privileged to the craving, swelling, weight gain, stretch marks, waddling, elastic pants and leaky, bloated milk jugs that all their more fertile friends complained about.

I did not spend my entire time turning baron little bean poles into roly-poly moms-to-be with filled to capacity milk sacks sloshing around on top of their ginormous bellies. I had a social life as well. I had grown from a little dork to what I would consider a better then average looking man. Even if I am exaggerating a tad the insane amount of money I made from my successful business helped me attract women better then I had in high school.

I know what you are probably thinking and you are absolutely right. I did use my little remote to enhance the women I dated. I know I probably will not be up for sainthood later in life because of it, but it was just too hard to resist. I mean there was Megan the lead anchor for the local news with whom I dated for a while. We met when she came out to interview me about my practice and I charmed her into our first date that led to many more.

Inexplicably (for her) Megan’s appetite turned into one that would rival a football linebacker’s, despite the strict diet her producers had her on. She wrote it off to being comfortable with me, which she was. Understandably she gained some weight while we dated. Not so understandably (again, for her) she just happened to gain all that weight below the waist. It worked out well since the producers became less concerned about her dieting, because on camera behind her desk she looked the same as she always had, but her ass blew up to the point it was almost unsafe to take her in my Mercedes with her saddle bags capable of knocking the shifter out of gear. It was always fun to visit her at the studio, especially if she had to hustle from the make-up chair out to the set. Anything more then a slow waddle cause so much jiggling her pencil skirt would ride up her plump thighs. The size 0 weather girl would giggle and the sports guy would ogle her large posterior shamelessly. I think he ended up asking her out and then proposing to her just a few months after we broke up.

Then there was Cammy, A big Amazon of a woman who was taller then me at 6’ and over 225 pounds. She was a fun, confident woman. She did not mind being taller and heavier, but did sometimes confided to me she wished she could store some of the calories from the cheeseburgers she scarfed down in her chest instead of it all going to her belly, which was a soft, very impressive one at that. Lucky for her she dated me. Within a few months the lovely Cammy had outgrown her 44B bras and was soon stuffing her rack into DD’s. With her height and weight they seemed a good proportion although if we had dated longer I’m sure I would have seen what F’s would have looked like hanging above that big gut.

But alas my story is not simply detailing my success and happiness with what I created. There is more then a little drama to be had as well.
 

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