A/N: What on earth did I write here?

For the Biokink Meme on Livejournal

Clinical Trial Number 83, Dr Suchong. Got hired to create plasmid, suppose to make sexual encounter more… exciting. Fuck with persons head chemistry. Stupid work for someone with brain like mine, should be doing more with control plasmid, but stuck playing chemist for rich egg sucking woman. Need to test this on someone, was fixed after previous trial caused major blistering and blood poisoning of last subject. Lot is fixed, I never make same mistake twice.
-Yi Suchong
"The Same Mistake Twice."

Clicking the recorder off, Suchong frowned. After the accident with the bee's Tenenbaum hadn't been to willing to share any of her precious test subjects and Fontaine hadn't found anyone he thought was a traitor this week so Suchong was fresh out of fresh meat.

Back against the wall, he fingered the hypo containing the swirling toxic yellow concoction. "Who to test on?" He wondered aloud, thoughts echoing in the tiny room. "Could put in Fontaine and Tenenbaum, laugh while those two selfish pricks bicker, yet find body unable to resist other." Chuckling, he looked down at the needle again. "However, I don't need two people, one would suffice. But who?"

As if an answer to the scientist's wishing, an assistant accompanied by the little boy that he and Tenenbaum nurtured, opened the door and deposited the creation just inside the room. Before Suchong could angrily inform the man he had not requested the boy for testing, the assistant had vanished shutting the door behind him leaving the two alone.

Suchong stared at the experiment, and the experiment looked right back. The boy simply stood there, unexpectant and patiently waiting to be addressed or issued a command. It was so bizarre for a being that appeared to be sixteen actually be just one and a half. Just watching him made Suchong sick, the science project was good for nothing except testing tonic's on-

The scientist's eyes flickered with a strange form of delight. He could test the plasmid on the creature in front of him. "You, experiment numbe-" A frown creased his thin face. The damn man who paid him to create and fine tune this boy actually had one ounce of a soul. Fontaine insisted on calling the child by a name. What was it? Something stupid, something plain, John? Joe? No that wasn't it. Jack? Yes, Fontaine's little jukebox was called Jack.

"Jack" The teen snapped to attention, "Would you kindly stand over here, I need you for something."

Obedient as a trained dog, the boy answered with a quick 'Yes, Papa Suchong' and came to stand still in front of his 'father'. Suchong surveyed the boy with disgust. No argument, no fidgeting, it was like he was an empty shell, a mindless zombie. Of course, the elder man chose not to look into his subjects eyes, for if he did, the boys fear and hesitation would have been apparent.

"This won't hurt much." He said plainly, finding Jacks vein and inserting the hypo with a quick push. "Now tell Suchong how body feel."

At first, Jack simply stood where he was, looking at himself and the red dot on his arm where he was injected. "I feel as usual Papa Suchong, temperature and stimulus responses normal. My breathing is-" Suddenly he paused, touching his slowly flushing cheeks. "I'm not sure I'm normal anymore Papa Suchong…"

The Chinese doctor smirked. "Good, that expected, now what isn't normal?"

Jack struggled to find the right words, unconsciously stroking his arm and squirming, knees knitted together. "Well?" Suchong demanded.

"I…I…" The boy glanced up, his cheeks now bright pink and breath coming in slightly deeper, his little chest rising and falling beneath the thin shirt he wore for clothes. Shuffling his feet, the words just weren't coming to him. How to describe how he felt when he'd never experienced something such as this before.

Suchong, however was growing impatient. "Fucking idiot. Would you kindly gesture to where you feel sensation most?" The doctor demanded, pulling on a fresh pair of medical gloves.

Blinking, and then nodding, Jack made a few motions to his chest and groin before realizing that Suchong meant specifics. He whimpered quietly, half fighting himself as his few garments dropped to the ground.

Suchong walked around him, clipboard in hand, taking notes on the boy like he was some sort of livestock. He made notes on Jack's blotchy cheeks and flushed chest that rose rapidly with his quick breaths. On his little pink rear that trembled as he stood there in his nakedness, eyes on the floor, innocent and embarrassed. The doctor bent to examine the boys prick, running a quick thumb over his head, gathering a trace of Jack's precome, eliciting a moan and shudder.

"Pfff, virgins..." He muttered, licking his finger and jotting down another note. "Touch yourself." His gaze didn't leave the paper. "Now, would you kindly."

Mouth open in the beginnings of a protest, the test subject found his body complying, though he scarcely knew what to do. The ghosts of Suchong's touch lingered, a faint fire to his sensitive skin.

Jack's little hand went to his arousal, painfully conscious of Suchong's presence, knowing how inappropriate this was. As soon as his sweaty palm met his arousal, Jack moaned, jerking his hand away. Mind and body fighting each other, the scientist's repeated 'would you kindly' brought his hand back.

Gingerly, the poor boy touched himself, just the brush of his own fingers enough to make him tremble and mewl pitifully.

'Such a whiney thing' The Asian man thought mentally rolling his eyes. Rapping his clipboard he jotted down notes. He took down how Jack's breathing came increasing faster, groans louder and higher-pitched, how flushed and sweaty his skin turned, the way his eyelashes fluttered over half open eyes and they way his thin form and pert ass jerked with each stroke.

"Are you almost finished?" The voice came from behind the boy, and biting his lip jack shrugged his pink shoulders, not knowing at all. Exasperated, Suchong reached a gloved hand around the boy, taking hold of his erection, pumping it mercilessly.

Jack's cries filled the tiny room, his legs failing, leaning against Suchong for support. His body shuddered, every inch of him feeling like someone had cast incinerate on his skin. Cock weeping, the doctors slick hand drove him again and again until finally, mind blanking, Jack came, spilling himself all over the floor.

Suchong aloud himself the slightest of smiles, letting Jack fall to the floor. "Would you kindly clean yourself and dress." Finishing his notes, never once did he look at Jack, who stood staring at him, on the verge of tears.

"Yes poppa Suchong," he said mechanically, doing as the scientist asked, before slipping from the lab silently.

In the quiet, Suchong licked the soiled glove, smirking and making yet another note, before depositing them into the trash receptacle and picking up the audio diary.

"Lot is success, what did Suchong say before? I never make same mistake twice."