Field Research - Chapter 5

Jenny couldn’t have lobbed me an easier softball.

I can’t tell you how many kitchens I’ve worked in over the past five years. Every single job in a restaurant is a goddamn nightmare at least some of the time, and you’re lucky if it’s only “some,” especially for the shit pay you’re usually working for. It wasn’t a hard decision to ditch out of that line of work to find something a little less stressful. But the actual cooking part? I loved it. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty damn good at it, too.

Jenny was quick to rush me out of the lab, needing to prepare for her meeting with the administrative board in a few hours. I stretched up to give her a quick kiss goodbye, reveling in the sensation of stretching up to kiss her.

“Call me afterward, I want to hear how it went!”

With that, I took off for home, and spent the rest of the afternoon planning recipes. The main bottleneck was my budget; I had not been taking the job hunt as seriously as I should’ve been, and my bank account was starting to hurt for it. Plus, I needed a new bed; another night in that ruined bed frame was gonna kill me.

Or… I could suck it up and just sleep on the couch for a while. Every dollar I spent on ingredients was going straight toward making Jenny bigger, after all.

Around six o’clock, my phone lit up. I answered before the ringtone even had the chance to start playing; I was really doing nothing at all to disabuse Jenny of the notion that I was obsessed with her.

“Hey! How’d it go?”

“Perfect.” There was a cool, sexy confidence to her tone. “I got a little bit of a talking to, but at the end of the day, the main issue was that I put my own health at risk, and given my informed, enthusiastic consent, there’s really not that much they can do about it, which is exactly what I’ve been saying all along. I’ve got to fill out some paperwork to officially get logged as a test subject for the project, but that’s it.”

“That’s fantastic!”

“You haven’t even heard the best part. I didn’t get in any trouble, but you know who did? Dr. Walker! He’s supposed to be my mentor, after all.” Her voice had suddenly turned mockingly official. “He clearly failed to properly supervise me or instill in me an appropriate respect for safety and ethics.”

“Nice. Guy seemed like a dick.”

“He’s really not so bad. You sort of saw him on his worst day. But… yeah, it did feel pretty good to see him get reprimanded.”

“So, uh… does that mean…”

“Yes, you goof. It means I can take the next dose without getting in more trouble. I’ve got half a mind to hold off just to make you wait, though. Make you appreciate what you already have for a while before I give you any more.”

“Um… well, it’s, y’know, it’s your body. Whatever you want to do with it is fine with me.”

“You’re such a bad liar!” She laughed. “But I appreciate that you were willing to try. Luckily for you, I’m only a little less excited about this than you are.”

“Well, good, because I’ve spent all afternoon brainstorming a feast! Any requests?”

“Hm… well, I love barbecue ribs.”

“Two racks of ribs, got it.”

“Two racks? Just how much do you think I can eat in one sitting?”

“The more you eat the more you grow, right?”

“I mean, yes, but… Damn. I mean, I guess it’d be good to do some testing on just how much growth we can pack into one application of the drug.”

“Right, exactly, that is exactly what I was thinking. This is a good idea for sober, chaste, scientific reasons.”

“Oh, shut up.” More laughter. “Just don’t go for quantity over quality, alright? I’m not eating anything that doesn’t taste good.”

“You let me worry about that part.”

I was in full-on chef mode for the rest of the week. The first several days were nothing but planning; I needed to figure out how to stretch my money as far as I could take it, while also making sure I was giving Jenny the maximum amount of fuel to grow off of. She’d need lots of protein and fat, and probably calcium for bone growth, too. That all added up to lots of eggs and butter, which were luckily some of the most versatile foods in existence. Egg casseroles, egg bread, cake, deviled egg hors d'oeuvres, egg noodles… which of course gestured toward another avenue to make lots of food for cheap: pasta.

I got up early on Friday and hit the grocery store, loading my shopping cart to the brim with ingredients. I fidgeted anxiously as I waited in line at the checkout; if I understood how this worked correctly, then I was essentially getting ready to add the volume of this cart to Jenny’s mass.

Hm.

Was that how it really worked?

The other night, she’d eaten three burgers, a basket of fries, a bottle of vitamins, and a single protein shake. A lot of food, to be sure… but it probably only added up to, what, three to four pounds? Maybe five? The woman I’d seen yesterday was a whole lot more than five pounds heavier. So either she’d managed to, in addition to every other scientific miracle she’d pulled, violate one of the laws of physics so fundamental that even I knew about it, or… Or she’d already stuffed herself before she even showed up for the date.

The latter made more sense, but at this point, that was practically a point against it.

The cashier rang me up (I tried real hard not to think about how little was left in my bank account after I finished paying), and I sped home to get to work. I only had a single oven, stovetop, and microwave to work with, and I couldn’t possibly hope to cook everything I’d bought in one day. So, instead, I’d be spending the entire weekend preparing meals that would keep and reheat well on Sunday night. The oven was in near constant use, as were all four burners of the stove, loaded up with boiling pots of noodles and a wide range of simmering sauces.

Of course, she’d need vitamins too. I had plenty of veggies diced and incorporated into other items on the menu, like the egg casseroles, but a few greens on the side would be smart too. Vegetables were a little tricker to prep in advance; anything steamed would get mushy and gross if it sat in the fridge for a few days. I could prep a big bowl of salad though, as well as a gallon or so of hearty vegetable soup. Sunday evening, while I had my oven stuffed with four pounds of ribs slow-cooking in homemade barbecue sauce, I put together some pan-seared broccoli and steamed asparagus.

Getting everything cooked was a marathon, and by the end of it I was exhausted. But it was the good kind of exhaustion, the kind that came at the end of a job well done. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud as I loaded container after container into the passenger seat of my car.

My bed situation meant that we really had no choice but to meet up at Jenny’s place, but that was fine by me. I was excited to see where she lived! And, blessedly, her apartment was on the first floor, and I managed to grab a parking spot just on the curb outside. I knocked on the door, and grinned as I immediately heard someone scrambling on the other side. It was nice to finally get at least a little confirmation that she was just as eager as I was.

After just a moment, she threw open the door, leaned down to kiss me… and then stopped, sputtering with laughter.

I grinned.

My facial hair comes in pretty quick. Usually, it’s kind of a pain, but this week, it meant I had enough time to grow a little pencil mustache. I didn’t have a tux, and renting one was out of the question, but I did have an old suit in the back of my closet that was only a little wrinkled. The cloth napkin draped over my arm completed the look.

“Might I inquire as to the location of the lady’s dinner table?” I asked in my stuffiest British accent. I held up a cheap candelabra in my other hand as she laughed even harder, stepping aside to let me in.

Frankly, I deserved an Oscar for maintaining character in the face of her massive beauty.

Her table was small, which made sense since she lived alone. With all the pomp of a proper English butler, I picked up a pile of mail she’d left on it and replaced it with the candelabra, setting the papers on a side table while I retrieved a lighter from my pocket for the candles. With that handled, I pulled out her chair, smiling at her as she followed me in from the front door.

“Please, madame, have a seat.” I took in a sharp breath when I heard the way her chair creaked under her, and another when I realized how high her head came up on me even as she was seated. I gave a token effort at pushing her in, but even if I could do it, it would’ve left gouges in her floor.

“I have several trips to make to bring everything in,” I said, maintaining my doofy voice.

“Do…” she snickered. “Do you want some help?”

“Absolutely not, it would be entirely improper for the lady to help a humble servant such as myself. Might I instead interest you in a wine list?”

She rolled her eyes at how far I was taking the bit. “That’s fine, I’m not much of a wine drinker.”

“Good, because I was bluffing. The only wine I have is half a bottle of cheap red left over from cooking.” I finally started to break mid-sentence, cracking up laughing. She laughed along with me as I ran back out to the car.

With each trip I made, arms full of Tupperware and glass baking dishes that I carried back to her kitchen, Jenny gradually went from bemused to concerned. “Jesus Christ, Sean, how much did you make?”

“It is possible, madame, that your humble servant has perhaps expressed a certain excess of vigor in his efforts to woo you through the medium of fine cuisine.” “Possible” was an extreme understatement; there was enough food here for 20 people, easily. “However, that which remains unconsumed this eve will surely be just as happily supped upon ere the morrow.”

“Are you a fancy waiter or a Shakespeare character, jackass?” Her tone was harsh, but she was still grinning. “What did you even just say?”

“You’ve got leftovers for tomorrow if you don’t eat it all tonight,” I replied, finally dropping character. “I mean, depending on how this goes, you might have leftovers for the whole week.”

I got to work plating up her first course. The ribs were still fresh out of the oven, and they’d been her special request, so that seemed like the best place to start. I loaded a dish up with several of them, along with a few other barbecue staples I’d made to go along with them: baked beans and mac and cheese.

“Holy shit, that smells amazing,” she called out from the dining area. I beamed at the compliment as I brought the plate out to her. Her mouth formed a perfect “O” as she got a look at them, the delicious scent filling the air. I’d thrown the most effort into these, and it had paid off. I was especially proud of the sauce, made with peaches and bourbon. It was a rich shade of brown, tangy and sweet with just the right amount of spice. She gingerly pinched an exposed bit of bone to pick one up, but bone was all she got; the meat was so tender that it stayed right where it was on the plate.

“You…” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “Are dangerous.”

“I only wish to serve, madame,” I answered with a grin, offering her a knife and fork.

She took one bite and immediately sat back, dropping her silverware as she shook her head in disbelief. “Oh my God. Why did you even bother making anything else?!” She started to lean toward, but as she looked at me she stopped. “I’ve got a razor in my medicine cabinet. Go shave that ridiculous thing off so I can kiss you, you dork.”

“As the lady commands,” I said, giving an exaggerated bow. Inside, I was smiling like an idiot at how much she was enjoying the food. 

Jenny’s apartment was nicer than mine; apparently, working as a scientist making world-changing pharmaceuticals that altered the fabric of the human body paid a little better than bartending. Who would have guessed? But at the same time, the apartment was also messy, with stacks upon stacks of books and research papers piled up all over the place, and thin layers of dust covering all the less-trafficked areas. Jenny mentioned how busy she usually was, between her grad student work and her other duties at the lab; clearly keeping up on housework was one thing she’d had to sacrifice to make time. 

I wonder how long it had even been since she’d had a decent home-cooked meal? The more I thought about it, the more gratified I felt that I’d found something I could give her. She was an amazing woman, and I’d honestly been a little worried that I couldn’t offer her nearly as much as she was offering me. I was happy that we’d discovered a way for me to contribute.

By the time I got back, lip clean-shaven, her plate was already nothing more than a few bare bones and a couple stray streaks of barbecue sauce.

“That’s much better,” she said, looking up at me expectantly. I came in close to kiss her, then yelped in surprise as she grabbed me, dragging me into her lap. I could taste faint remnants of her meal on her tongue as she kissed me passionately, holding me tightly to her with one arm as she unzipped my fly with the other. Her skin was soft but her grip was firm as she wrapped her hand tightly around my member, pumping it furiously. It took no time at all for me to cum, body trembling in her arms, panting for breath as she cleaned me up with the napkin.

“G-...glad you’re enjoying the food,” I managed to sputter.

“Go get me more, and I’ll give you another tip.”

“Yes ma’am!” She’d completely knocked the British accent out of me. “More of the same, or something else?”

“Surprise me.”

My body felt sluggish and slow after what she’d done to it, but I forced myself off her lap, zipping up as I hurried into the kitchen to prepare another plate, this time opting for a healthy slice of the casserole I’d loaded into her oven to warm up when I first arrived. Long strings of gooey cheese oozed out from the fluffy scrambled eggs, dotted with shreds of bacon, spinach and sausage.

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me you knew how to cook this good?” she asked, mouth filled with food. “I thought I was giving you a challenge.”

I shrugged, smiling. “Surprise! I might not be able to bend the laws of science to my will, but I know my way around a kitchen.”

“You probably taught yourself because you thought it’d help you attract fat girls, didn’t you, you little perv?”

“...Is it working?”

She burst out cackling, covering her mouth to stop from making a mess.

Another clean plate, and another very generous compliment to the chef, left me once again in her lap, feeling spent and sleepy. I hugged her neck tightly. “More?”

“I’m sorry, Sean, but I’m stuffed. You really loaded those first two plates up. It all tasted incredible, but I’m starting to feel a little sick.”

“I figured as much, but I’ve got just the thing: fettuccine alfredo.”

“Ugh, no! Why would I want something that heavy on a full stomach?”

“No, no, I mean authentic fettuccine alfredo. Not the American version that adds a ton of cream. It’s egg noodles, butter, and a little parmesan. It was invented by a Roman chef trying to develop a recipe that his pregnant wife could eat while nauseous, it’s the perfect thing on an upset stomach.”

“...Wow. You really know your stuff, huh?”

I blushed a little. “Sorry for rambling.”

“No, no!” She kissed my cheek and squeezed me. “It’s endearing. Alright, go get me a plate of it. But a small one, alright?”

I reciprocated her kiss before hopping down and heading back to the kitchen. It was another homerun.

“Alright, you were right, I could make room for it. But now I feel like I’m about to explode. No more; I barely feel like I’ve got room for the pill.”

“In that case… why don’t you take it, and relax and digest a little?”

“Go get it for me, it’s in a silver case on my night stand.” She pointed toward her bedroom door and I hurried off. I did my best to avoid the dirty clothes piled up all over the floor as I made my way to the night stand. I recognized the small silver case from last week. I popped it open, and my eyes went wide:

There were two pills in here, not one.

I took just the one for now, shutting the case with a small click, and brought it out to her.

“Your after-dinner mint, ma’am.”

She took it and threw it back, groaning a little after she swallowed it. “I wasn’t kidding. One more bite and I literally don’t think I would’ve been able to swallow it.”

I was buzzing with anticipation, but I knew it would be a little bit before the drug kicked in. I took the opportunity to busy myself in the kitchen, plating up one of every dish that she hadn’t yet gotten to sample. When I emerged balancing six plates on my arms, she looked at me in confusion, maybe even a little annoyance, before nodding in realization.

“Right. I’m gonna be hungry again once it kicks in.”

“And we should have the food ready for when you are.”

“I’m honestly so full right now that it’s hard for me to imagine ever being hungry again, let alone in the next five minutes.”

“You know… I haven’t had anything to eat yet tonight.”

“What? Well, jeez, help yourself, Sean. You made enough to feed an army.”

“Actually… I was thinking of eating something else.” I raised my eyebrows suggestively, and she gave me a sly smile back.

“Oh. Were you, now?”

“Well. It just occurred to me that, last time, you got too distracted by the… what did you call it, the psycho-active euphoria? You got too horny to focus on eating. So… since this is a very serious, very high-minded science experiment to see how much we can make you grow in one sitting… maybe I should, you know, see to your needs while you eat.”

“Mm-hm, mm-hm. Yeah. I’m already planning how I’ll write this bit up in the abstract. ‘Research assistant had too much pride to beg his girlfriend to let him eat her out, so he made up a bunch of horseshit instead.’”

I threw my hands up defensively. “Hey! If you don’t want me to…”

“I didn’t say that.” The teasing tone was suddenly gone; Jenny was deadly serious. She raised up slightly, hiking up her skirt to start slipping her panties down. “Get down there.”

I smiled and nodded, dropping onto my hands and knees and crawling beneath the tablecloth.

“Hurry up,” she said from above. “I think it’s starting.”