The Speed Research Club met throughout the month at the same time every day. As the club was quite small, their meetings had gone unnoticed by the general populace. No one thought much of Manhattan Café and Agnes Tachyon meeting up, and Gold Ship was so unpredictable that no one really concerned themselves whenever she slipped away to some club. So far, every meeting had perfect attendance.
Research had been progressing nicely, or so Agnes had vaguely informed the other two. She was satisfied with their racing performance and was able to closely monitor the 48-hour time limit before their bodies returned to their previous state. Café had taken careful notice that Agnes refused to use the word “normal.” Tachyon tasked herself with closely monitoring both Umas’ schedules, making sure neither were enhanced during any fragile time such as health checkups, swim classes, or outings. Both Café and Gold Ship were reporting increased performance during training as well as greatly improved race performance with the only difficult side effect being the rampant libido that follows strenuous physical activity, but both so far had been successful in finding methods to quell it.
By all accounts, the club had been a success.
Save for one factor.
Café looked to her left at Gold Ship who had brought a small aquarium tank filled with shrimp she was raising, and then she looked to Agnes who was happily smiling down at her laptop absorbing the rapid flashes and streaming lines of data with pure contentment. Café sighed. “We aren’t much of a club, are we?”
“Hmmm?” Gold Ship raised her brow. “Of course we’re a club! We have shrimp! None of the other clubs have shrimp. That puts us way ahead of them!”
“She’s right,” Agnes shrugged. Gold Ship hoped it was herself being referred to, but Tachyon went on, “We are only three members right now and none of us are exactly presenting role model material. Also, with so few members we are at constant risk of our club being dismantled. In order to maintain our club status we will need to recruit more members.”
Café took a sip from her coffee cup and gave Tachyon the most careful of stares, like an owl peeking out from her burrow. “We could just give up the club. Your research could continue somewhere quieter and with less of a public footprint.”
“Patience is all I can say to that, Café,” Agnes laughed. “I have made some discoveries that we can only take advantage of with a proper facility and hopefully soon an official budget. At the last meeting I was able to prod and learn how much money we could expect if we reached club goals and it is well within how much I’d need to improve my formula as well as keep the experiment going. Keeping the club in order is vital to the experiment,” Agnes’s expression never moved from that one faint smile she struck. Even Gold Ship was a little offput. “Besides, the experiment’s needs and the club’s needs are currently one in the same. We need more club members AND we need more guinea pigs. The more Umas we test, the more proof we’ll have that the formula unleashes latent potential.”
“It unleashes something…” Café shook her head softly. “Half the competent students would just turn us in, let alone say no. We’re worse than a back-alley doctor…” Manhattan’s timer alarm went off. She walked away from the conversation to the little coffee table where Café pressed down the top of her French press to finish her coffee. She refilled her cup as Gold Ship looked up from her fish tank and gave a bold grin.
“So,” she cracked her neck. “What we need is a racer who is really good, wants to get EVEN BETTER, and won’t snitch on the freaky parts?”
“That is our ideal subject,” Agnes said. Café came over and refilled her cup as well, rolling her eyes as Agnes added a heap of sugar from her pockets to the cup. “While I am very happy with your results, we will need another racer with dramatic wins for us to point to as proof of our results. We will eventually be found out, so we will need someone who can vouch for us.”
“Yeah, I know the girl we need!” Gold Ship snatched a sugar cube from the cup and took a bite out of it and then drizzled the rest to her shrimp. “Permission to recruit to our cult?”
“It’s not a cult…” Café whispered.
“Granted,” Agnes Tachyon smiled. “So long as you are certain she would have no interest in reporting us if she were to decline. Out of curiosity… who is this person you have in mind?”
Fingers curled through the hoop of a teacup with practiced elegance. The saucer was kept near to catch so much as a single stray drop. McQueen lifted the cup to her lips and took a careful, silent sip and then placed the tea back down on its plate and set it aside. Her attention gathered on the woman sitting across from at the picnic table. Agnes Tachyon, as always, gave off a strange air. Her smile seemed immotile and uncanny, patience but glowing for something only she could see. McQueen struggled to relate to her face and wondered if it was just as practiced and put on as her own mask. “So… I never thought you’d be one to form a club, Tachyon.”
“It wasn’t my first idea,” Agnes leaned forward on the table over a plate covered by a silver lid. “However, my newest research has necessitated it. While I cannot reveal the other members to someone from outside the club, I assure you their testimonies are all positive. They’ve received the results they wanted.”
“Gold Ship had told me as much. Though, I do find it odd that something that only motivates manifests so… physically.”
“It is odd, and I don’t personally think it will work for every Umamusume. They need to be skilled racers already and excellent at training since the modification doesn’t change your muscles or necessarily make your body any more powerful. No change to your muscle fibers or alteration to protein synthesis or any other performance enhancing effects. All it does is make training easier and racing more satisfying. I understand if you have cold feet as anything that alters the body can make us anxious.”
“I’ll admit, at first I felt wholly against it…” McQueen squeezed her cup closer. “But after the last race I lost I’ve been wondering if it was because my training hasn’t been as efficient as it could be. I’ve been losing control of my diet and struggling to focus while training. If this will assist me, I am more than willing to try it… Gold Ship said it was temporary?”
“Very. It goes away on its own and leaves no footprint. No sign you had ever indulged,” Agnes’s smile crept higher, and shadows spread across her face. Her red eyes pierced through the dark like brake lights on a car. “Try it once. If you like it and see good results you may join our club formally so I can monitor you and record the results.”
Hesitation crept into McQueen’s mind, but hesitation meant there was a pull. Birds chirped around her and trees swayed as if the world was waiting for her to rejoin it with her decision. She bit her lip, replaying her last few races in her head. A low, cold hurt curled in her stomach so heavy she wondered if she could stand again.
Finally, her eyes met the crimson vision ahead of her. “I accept. I’ll try your medicine, Tachyon.”
While her grin did not alter, the pleasure it portrayed seemed more genuine as if before it were an empty vessel and now had its spark. Slowly, her neck perked and her head pushed forward. Agnes applauded softly with her sleeves. “Very good! I look forward to hearing how it assists you. Here.” Tachyon grabbed the lid of the platter and lifted it.
Beneath the cover was an immaculate carrot cake covered in decorative frosting, a well-placed decorative frosting carrot with a purple bow sitting cutely atop. McQueen tensed and flared her nostrils as the saccharine scent hit her. She gulped. “Do you like it?” Tachyon crossed her legs, tossing the lid to the side. “To help ease any apprehension you might have about the drug, we have opted to place it inside a cake. Cafe worked very hard on this.”
McQueen raised a brow. “Wait, Café is in the club?”
“Oops!” Tachyon shrugged and covered her mouth with a sleeve. “Well, I need to make sure you’re true to your word.” Suddenly, there was no space between McQueen and Tachyon. “Eat up.”
Within minutes there was not even a crumb of the little cake left. Tachyon was sated, as was McQueen. “You should start to see results in about an hour. I believe the baking process weakens synthesis. I need to go attend to other matters for now so I shall leave you to it.”
“You’re not going to observe…?”
“You should be fine!” Tachyon stood up and stretched. “If anything interesting happens, please record it with your phone for my review.” And with that she departed. McQueen furrowed her brow.
The nerve.
Something strange was about to happen to her body and Mejiro McQueen was hoping that Agnes had more sense of responsibility to her experiment! She wanted to pout or even go run after Agnes and complain more, but that felt like the fish marching up the hook to critique the efficiency of the bait. All that was left to do was ride out the experiment and see its effects. She might as well go test how motivated she felt.
McQueen found her favored training track and scouted the surrounding area. Luckily for once it was entirely empty, which means that by the time she returned from changing into her shorts and shirt that Teio had arrived with no warning like any good storm.
“Heya heya, Mcqueeeeen!” Teio struck a pose and wagged her tail aggressively. “Whatchya up to? Practicing for a big race?”
“I am, yes.” She was curt and tried to seem polite but closed. At any moment there the physical symptoms would manifest and she couldn’t think of a worse person to witness them. “If you don’t mind, I need to do these runs on my own today.”
“Awwwww,” Teio pouted. “Why’s that? They can’t be that important! Besides, I want to see how your form is! You lost your last race so I figured you could use a little advice.”
Did she mean that to sound condescending? McQueen huffed and took her place at the starting line. She would just ignore her. She did not humor the dialogue with her rival and took off at her full speed, leaving Teio’s pouting face in the dust. McQueen didn’t hear any shoes running to catch up with her, so she assumed Teio took the hint and hopefully went off to go do something else like harass the club president instead.
After the third turn she still did not see Teio and felt assured she had taken the hint and left McQueen alone. She exhaled a long-held breath. Finally, she could just focus on training and seeing if she could feel the effects start.
When she was younger, she remembered a terrible migraine she had. It hurt so bad she curled into a ball on the floor and drowned her head in pillows. She took medicine and waited to feel its effects, envisioning the fluid flowing through her body and slowly tinting her veins the same purple as the grape flavored medicine. She spent so long focusing, trying to feel the granular ebb of her pain waning away, but the only time she noticed it was gone was when an hour later she was watching baseball on the television and realized the loud cheering wasn’t hurting her head anymore. This would most likely progress the same way; so slowly that she’d only notice it at the end, the space between the effects and the finish line cut in half over and over and over until all that’s left is to actually cross.
McQueen took a break from her sprints after a third lap around the track. She walked off to the right-hand side of the track and wiped sweat away from her forehead and bent over to rest her hands on her knees as she panted. “I still don’t feel the effects,” she muttered to herself. “Any extra motivation so far is pure placebo.”
“What’s a placebo?” Teio asked.
“It’s when you trick yourself into—Teio?!” McQueen stood up on her toes, tail high like a startled cat. “Where did you come from?!”
“I never left dummy!” Teio snickered. “I decided to practice my sneaky run!” She ducked down low to demonstrate and moved her feet across the track, proving she was able to maintain a quiet sound that would’ve easily been drowned out by McQueen’s own steps and the storm in her head. “You’ve been going at it a long time, though! Your endurance has really improved. Is that the effects you’re talking about? Are you on a new diet?”
“A-A diet! Yes!” McQueen grinned. Never turn down a perfect lie someone else hands you, they’re preconditioned to believe it themselves. “I’m lucky, I can still eat as much cake as I like while also keeping my racing weight.” McQueen had no idea how good her lying voice was, but usually people caught on when she was fibbing fairly quickly.
Thank goodness this was Tokai Teio. “Ah, that’s amazing!” Teio, still kneeling in stealth, did a little hop like a toy frog and settled back down into her sneaking pose. “Do you think they have a version of that diet with hamburger steak? Or with sata andagi? Oooh or any donuts really? Mmmm!” Teio snickered. “Hey, have you ever hidden food in your pants before? I used to sneak a few snacks to the racecourse.”
“No?” McQueen replied.
“Oh, that’s weird,” Teio, still leaning forward patted her hand against the crotch of McQueen’s shorts. “Because this kinda looks like—”
McQueen’s face went red. A rush of strange emotions that she didn’t want to process with Teio nearby exploded through her mind, like a skyscraper was dropped on her. In that moment McQueen’s only goal was to remove Tokai Teio from her surroundings and to immediately regain her privacy to process.
Teio’s eyes were wide. McQueen’s were wider. McQueen jutted her hips backwards away from Teio’s grasp. She wound herself back into a crouching spring, tense and ready to snap. Teio was as fast as McQueen, so she’d keep up and she was too curious to let it go. If McQueen was to escape she’d have to be aggressive. SNAP. McQueen launched herself forward with her open hand as a spear point. Her hand clapped against the center of Teio’s chest. McQueen put spin into her body, twisting her upper body to launch her hand down and forward, pushing Teio down against the ground. As soon as McQueen heard the air leave Teio’s lungs from the ground impact, the bashful Mejiro RAN as fast as she could away the track screaming “You idiiiioooooooot!!!”
Teio coughed on the ground, still weak from the surprise Umaviolence. “I guess she doesn’t want to share…”
She was alone in her room, thankful that her roommate was on a trip. McQueen placed her phone on the pillow and struggled her knees together as she sat on the bed waiting for the phone call to go through. Another powerful throb came from the bulge in her gym shorts. The phone made its dial tone for the fifth time before finally Gold Ship’s voice came through. “Yo, Golshi hotline.”
“I-I’ve been calling you!”
“Yeah, that’s why I answered. This is quality customer service if you ask me. How can I help you?”
“… What do I do?”
“Well nowdays the best way to get into the market is to invest in a smaller space that needs some fixing up. We can grab a convenience store, slowly build its reputation, call it Goldshi Mart and then—”
“Stop. I mean– I mean about the… thing!”
“Oh! Did you grow one? How big, how big? So far Tachyon’s is the biggest but I’d bet you’re even bigger!”
McQueen buried her head in her hands. She moved her hands like opening a fan to let her mouth out of her shame mask. “I haven’t looked at it yet…”
“Huh? Why not? I told you what happens! You grow a big thing, you touch it and have some fun, and then the next time you train you’ll get really excited for how good you’ll feel the next time! This is like getting upset that John McAction started shooting at the aliens! He wasn’t going to buy all those guns to NOT rescue his daughter!”
“I hate that I understood that…” McQueen felt another terrible throb emit from that space on her body she refused to look at. “It just feels… wrong to touch it. Unladylike I suppose.”
“Yeah, well, touching it feels good. You don’t get gold stars for holding back. Pleasure is pleasure, its lack does not create value.” A long pause followed. “Have you looked yet? McQueen?” But still, she did not speak. “Are you still there?”
“Y-Yes…”
“Go ahead…” Gold Ship had changed her tone of voice. She wasn’t loud and boisterous but instead she applied a smooth feel to her voice, whispering slowly. “Just grab the top of your shorts for me, alright?”
Despite every instinct she had, McQueen obeyed with cold shivers running down her head. “I’ve… I’ve done as you said.”
“You need to take those shorts off anyways, right? You’ve been training in them, and you can’t be wearing dirty shorts. That’d be unladylike! Taking them off will make you cleaner. Don’t over think it… just relax. That’s it. Slow deep breaths. Peel it down… let those shorts slip off. Good girl.”
The shorts were around McQueen’s ankles. She looked down at herself, ashamed but consumed by the sight. It was massive, way bigger than she though it was tucked up inside her shorts and it was very easy to please, throbbing intensely as Gold Ship praised her. McQueen gulped and realized the effect on her was too strong but she was entranced still like an archeologist staring at a cursed relic. Her eyes scanned her length, imprinting it on her brain.
“Are they off? Does a good girl need more instruction? First, tell Gold Ship that she has amazing taste in soft drink brands and—” McQueen hung the phone up the first second she was free from the spell. She had let Gold Ship decide enough.
McQueen’s first move would be to take a shower and give her new… friend a clean welcome. She stripped out of her gym clothes and put them in the laundry basket and turned the faucet on for the shower. Slowly she cleaned herself, careful not to touch anything down there, letting the soap run down her shapely hips and over the length. It throbbed again, an insistent tick and tock like a bomb beckoning. Sated she was clean and realizing she was just staring at it, she turned the water off and towel dried her upper half and let the riskier part of her body drip dry in the steamy air. She slipped into a night gown and laid in her bed as the last amber hue of daylight vanished to the purple skies of night.
“I can’t believe how it feels… how am I supposed to do my training tomorrow? Ugh… I even asked Scarlet and Vodka to help…” There was no way she’d be able to hide it in her current shorts. She had to do something about it. Grumbling, she scrolled on her phone to distract herself when her thumb glided across a big smiling photo of Teio at the top of some article about a race.
Her mind went back to Teio touching her without any restraint. That touch… it did feel good. McQueen gulped. She could feel it tense now, pushing against the soft fabric of her dress. She kept scrolling, trying to clear her mind again, but the feeling wouldn’t fade. She thought about Gold Ship’s alluring voice, how forward Teio was, and about how good Daiwa Scarlet looked in her racing uniform and imagined how she felt…
“Urghhh…” She felt her legs want to thrust. She watched her cock push tight against the fabric and a wet spot appear where the crown pushed firmly against it. Her fingers went to it to feel if it really was wet. Electricity. A lit match tip touching oil. Her cock throbbed hard at the first time she had touched it. The pleasure numbed her mind and loosened her inhibitions. Her two fingers over the tip still while the other two curled around the middle of it. The lower section of her cock was less electric but still sensitive. Thick veins just beneath the surface burgeoned and bolstered to her attention. Her hand squeezed around it.
Her phone fell on the covers ahead to a photo of Scarlet taken after she won a race. McQueen was on her knees, mindless, both hands wrapped around the monster between her legs. It needed both hands, didn’t it? She let herself look and felt a terrible swell of pride at how big she looked. Was she really the biggest yet? These feelings were so tremendous. She felt mind-numbing pleasure and a certain swagger not dissimilar to her pride in everything else she does. Even this was living up to her family standards. She felt like she was on the winning podium taking in the applause as the music blasted. Was she making noise? Panting and gasping so openly… She lifted her phone frantically and played one of her idol songs. Make Debut! began to play from her phone speakers.
Slowly, to the rhythm of the song, she thrust her hands up and down. She shifted the weight on her knees and heard the bed creek beneath her. She struggled to keep her voice low, so she turned the music higher. All semblance of gentleness vanished the longer she went. It just kept building and building, this thing that she was pushing towards. Always getting closer but never quite reaching the end. Her eyes were glued to the lewd sight, her brain stewing as she just wished she could finish but no amount of wishes could relieve this building pressure and invincible want… when suddenly an ad appeared on her phone showing her two people doing something lewd.
It grabbed her attention just long enough for her cock to explode. Seed spilled out, shooting across the bed and covering her phone. It flowed her the article and the photo of Daiwa Scarlet in the body of it and completely covered the ad that forced her to pop, and slowly the music she was playing grew muffled. McQueen stroked for minutes through her intense orgasm, curling her toes and feeling her fat balls clench. Finally, the last drop was spilled and her head felt dizzy. She crawled to the bathroom and wrapped her phone in a towel, trying not to make eye contact with the photo of her friend and she wrapped up her blanket for the laundry pile. She snuck her laundry over to the machine so it could run over night and then returned to her room.
But as soon as she was back her erection had returned just as strong as it was before, begging for her to return to it. “A-again? Surely it can’t be this constant?” She touched it but was immediately swallowed up by the electric sensation once more. She fell to her knees and began stroking again, her wrists growing exhausted and her groans loud. “I-I need help…” Her eyes went to the empty bed only to see the pillow was still there. She borrowed her roommate’s pillow and crammed it in to the same pillow case as her own pillow and made a mental note to burn them both and replace them with new, very expensive ones curtesy of the Mejiro family. She pushed the head of her cock into the double pillow and squeezed both sides with her arms.
Her eyes went wide and filled with stars. This was perfect.
Hunched over her improvised toy and with her elbows pressing in hard against either side of the pillow pancake, she began to hump. She was shocked how good humping felt. It was demeaning but in a good way. Her tail wagged excitedly as she lost herself to the rhythm of what she was doing.
It was just as good as cake. It was as good as bad movies. It was even better. This was it. Indulgence in its greatest form. This was… amazing.
She gave in to indulgence.
Café was used to enjoying her meal in relative silence. Tachyon took a lot of her meals in her lab and usually her other friends were busy. No sign of Jungle Pocket or anyone who’d normally be willing to strike a conversation with her so she just poked at her lunch alone. She noticed Teio rushing over to brag about something with Daiwa Scarlet and Vodka. Cafe had a gut feeling something was off, as if someone else should be seated there, someone she hadn’t noticed. She sat a little bit closer to the group and lifted an ear.
Scarlet lowered her expression. “So, you haven’t seen her?”
“Last I saw McQueen would have to be yesterday,” Teio said. “She did a Secret Mejiro Art Tackle on me and ran away after I tried to grab her secret snacks. I tried to look for her but got distracted when I saw the prez headed out of the school to help with a student fundraiser. I ended up following her and helped wash some cars for the rest of the afternoon.”
“It isn’t like her to miss training,” Vodka figured. “She didn’t say she had other plans, right?”
“No,” Daiwa sighed. “I hope nothing bad came up. Apparently Spe walked by her room and said she could hear… music? She couldn’t check since she was already late for her training but still.”
Café shrewdly squinted her eyes. Her heart rate didn’t rise but she knew this was bound to make the other club members anxious. She eyed her shadow and quietly walked out of the cafeteria to deliver the report.
And it wasn’t even half an hour later before there was knocking at McQueen’s door. McQueen was absorbed, thrusting into her pillow, absorbed by how good it felt. She had found some belts to fasten around her contraption and was still practicing her form to maximize her pleasure, giggling as she started round 10? 11?
“Mejiro McQueen,” Agnes spoke loud and clear. “It is in your best interest to open this door.”
She recognized the voice and McQueen immediately stopped thrusting. “W-what’s wrong?”
“Open the door. Please.”
McQueen looked in the mirror and adjusted her clothes trying to look… well like she hadn’t been on a bender. She ran her fingers through her hair and pulled a pair of panties up beneath her nightgown to no avail as her balls and her cock were both not properly contained, but she couldn’t keep Tachyon waiting. She paced to the door and undid the lock. Slowly she opened the door and watched two red eyes come in to view, like a vampire waiting for permission to enter. McQueen gulped. “Agnes…”
“Thank you for opening the door. May I come in?”
McQueen nodded her head, avoiding eye contact as shame rose like bile in her stomach.
Tachyon entered and closed the door behind her. Not too quickly and not too slowly. “Was it your intent to miss your training today with Daiwa Scarlet?”
“How did you know about…?”
“The question, please…” Agnes walked past McQueen to the bed where the shameful contraption laid used. “How ingenuitive! Amazing what an Umamusume will do when pushed to her limits in any circumstance, though it is desperate sights like this which is why I am perusing a budget.”
“I… did miss training, and I’m sorry. I just… it felt so good. I couldn’t stop! I never felt so good before, and it must have gone to my head! But I promise that I won’t let it happen again!”
“I do like your phrasing. I won’t let it happen again. It shows the right intent.” Agnes’s eyes slowly scrolled back from the toy to the player. “But it isn’t quite right. It should be: it won’t happen again. I had thought you better at controlling your indulgences but clearly, I underestimated the might of an unfettered and unleashed sheltered girl.” Agnes stood forehead to forehead with McQueen. She ran her fingers just inches away from McQueen’s length and watched the purple haired girl shiver in longing and anticipation.
Agnes dropped her smile. “Let me be clear. Miss another training session and you are out of the club. This is a delicate time in the experiment and frivolities such as this risks jeopardizes the entire excursion. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes. I apologize, truly.” McQueen nodded. Agnes lowered her hand and squeezed, tenderly stroking. McQueen gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “This feels…”
“Even better?” Agnes let the tiniest flutter of her smile return, not surrendering a dose of menace. “Amazing, isn’t it? How another’s skin feels so much better than your own or any contraption you can huddle together. You can continue to feel this incredible and receive my medicine, ensuring you keep your new friend and these amazing feelings.” Agnes leaned down and kissed the tip, letting a little pre collect on her lips before kissing McQueen aggressively. They share the kiss for only a moment before Agnes ended it the second she wanted to. “But make no mistake…” Agnes licked her lips clean. “I am not interested in pleasure. These are not the limits I seek to break.” She shook her head.
Agnes looked out the window. “No, the limits I pursue are on the racecourse, and this pleasure is just another end with which to pursue them. Show up to your training. Apologize to Scarlet and maintain appearances. Our club meets tomorrow before lunch. You will not miss it.” Agnes only then allowed her smile to return. “Oh, and get this place cleaned. It smells like a stable in here.” And she left.
McQueen gasped, struggling to get her head back on track… but she had been humbled. This was just like any other pleasure she enjoyed; best kept in moderation. She vowed to be stronger and to focus even harder on her training, only allowing herself a session if she had truly pushed herself beyond.
All the while, Agnes wondered if what she did had been fair. She had played with the dosage and clearly the intensity was much too high… But she received the intended effect. Mejiro would now over-correct herself and race even harder, giving her club the results it needed. She was a perfect addition, truly.