Tracy shivered under the thin patient gown. The exam room was cold. “This place is shady as hell,” she thought to herself. “This experiment had better be worth it.”
Dr. Benson entered, a seedy, stereotypical mad scientist. “Hello, Tracy,” he said. “How are we doing today?” He flashed a big fake smile, failing to hide his enjoyment at seeing the pretty cheerleader in the skimpy gown.
“Perv,” thought Tracy. Aloud, she said, “Fine, doc. Let’s get to it.”
The scientist bowed ostentatiously. “You’ll be testing a performance-enhancing `smart workout suit`. It’s worn during and immediately after training, and while you sleep. It increases the density of muscle, connective tissue, and bone, and speeds recovery from fatigue and injury.
“With this, you’ll be able to train harder for longer periods, and your gains will be much greater and longer-lasting. You’ll see increases in strength, endurance, flexibility significantly beyond the human baseline. Even a slowdown in the aging process.”
“Sounds exactly like what I need,” said Tracy, imagining how this “smart suit” would allow her to be a top cheerleader and dominate her rivals for literally decades to come.
“One more thing,” said Dr. Benson. “As you know, female athletes, have difficulty maintaining, ahem, their busts because they keep low bodyfat. We remedied this by designing the suit to selectively stimulate growth of mammary tissue.”
“You mean…” asked Tracy, even more excited. “You mean it’ll make my boobs bigger?”
“Over a long period of time, you should see significant gains, uh, up there,” said Dr. Benson, and this time he could not hide his leer.
“OK Doc,” said Tracy. “I’m sold. When do we start?”
Dr. Benson produced a container of metallic liquid. It shimmered silver in the light.
“That?” said Tracy scornfully. “That looks like…like liquid glitter.”
“It’s a `smart` metal,” said Dr. Benson. “Capable of adapting to almost any environment through self-directed molecular evolution. It can receive commands electronically.“ He opened the container. “Put your finger in there.”
Tracy did so. Dr. Benson started tapping commands into the keyboard of his tablet. “Now I’m optimizing the suit to your specific genetics and physique,” he explained.
Tracy gasped as the smart metal flowed out of the container and over her fingertip. Quickly it expanded to cover her arm and flowed beneath the thin gown. Within seconds it had coated her neck, her entire torso and nether areas, turning into a skintight one-piece leotard.
Tracy removed her gown and stared at her new workout gear. She ran her hands over the silvery outfit, admiring its metallic sheen.
The fit was perfect. It felt like she was wearing nothing at all. The suit caressed every cleft of her muscles, making them stand out more than if she had been nude. Yet she could move with total freedom, the suit hindered her movements not at all. She already felt more energized, as if she’d just had a good night’s sleep.
On a whim she leaped up, did a backflip and landed gracefully on the exam table. “Let’s hit the gym and test this baby out,” said Tracy. She jumped down to the ground and strode out the door, Dr. Benson following behind.
Over an hour later, Dr. Benson was astonished by the results. First Tracy had run a 10000 meter dash in a little over a half hour. Afterwards she hadn’t been winded or tired, she hadn’t even broken a sweat. She’d hit the weights immediately afterwards and had been pounding out reps for the last twenty minutes like a machine.
He took another look at her vital readings on his tablet. Her heart rate and BP were close to resting, her oxygen, electrolytes, and pH showed no indication that she had been exerting herself at peak level for the last hour. Astonishingly, her BMI had increased by two percent just in the one hour, a sign of increasing muscle density.
He went over to Tracy, who was doing bench presses. She was already up to one hundred fifty pounds of weight, after starting out at one hundred twenty. “You did great, Tracy,” he said.
“Thanks, Doc,” said Tracy, flashing a dazzling smile.
“But I think it’s time you took a break. I need to analyze the data, and you need to recover from this afternoon.”
“But I can keep going, Doc,” she insisted. “I want to keep going.” She grunted as she did another rep. “Never felt this good. It’s like a constant rush of energy. The more I work out the stronger I feel.” She did another rep, this one coming more easily than the last.
“Need to get stronger, need to get sexier,” she muttered to herself. “Need to stop those two-faced cheer bitches from coming for my throne. I will be queen of the cheer squad forever.” Another rep. “Queen of the school forever.” Another rep. “Queen of the whole fucking world forever!” Another rep.
Dr. Benson’s apprehension grew. Clearly the suit was affecting the subject’s mental stability—not that she had probably been that stable in the first place. Her power trip was putting the experiment in jeopardy, yet part of him wanted to see just how sexy and strong she would become.
Before he could decide on a course of action, Tracy racked the barbell and sat up. “This isn’t enough weight,” she said impatiently. “I barely feel it anymore. I need more.” Suddenly the suit began to liquefy and ripple. “What—what’s happening?”
Before Dr. Benson’s amazed eyes, the smart metal began to flow over the exposed parts of Tracy’s body. Within seconds it had completely engulfed her head to toe in a silvery second skin. Tracy stared at her metallic limbs in delight, all fear gone. She began giggling.
“Tracy,” said Dr. Benson. “We’ve got to get that suit off you, it’s out of control!”
Tracy scoffed. “I don’t WANT to,” she retorted. “I feel more powerful than I’ve ever been! I’m fucking UNSTOPPABLE!” She picked up the barbell and hurled it at Dr. Benson. He shied out of the way and it missed.
This finally shocked him into action. It wasn’t worth getting killed by a rampaging, power-mad cheerleader. He tapped furiously at his tablet. “I’m triggering the emergency self-destruct. It won’t hurt you, it’ll just deactivate the suit.”
“NO!” screamed Tracy. She charged Dr. Benson like a bull, knocked him down, sent the tablet flying. She stomped on it and shattered it into bits beneath her feet.
“Too late,” grunted Dr. Benson, nursing bruised ribs. “The experiment’s over. The suit’s useless now.”
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