"Don't push your luck, purestrain."

Even in the Black Market, adding nanites in one's brain was a tall ask.

Zax was focusing on the results of their scan, not registering the insulting tone or the snarl on his subject's face. He was too engrossed in his research to catch on. He never had the liberty to fully delve in his hobby before. Even the environment was more favourable, as there were even less disruption fields here than even the dot.

How ironic he had to lose his actual freedom to enjoy it.

On the way to Pimp's base, Zax and he had discussed at length their theories and methods to force activations and orient mutations, the later leveraging the discussion to convince the former to let him try. He had quickly demonstrated he was not a simple pervert; actual thought went into his process, refined with experiments. They had great respect for their teacher and previous Pimp.

Is that a name or a title?

Zax had felt awkward using reproduction in such a way, but it would hardly be his weirdest venture at activation. Undoubtedly healthier than deliberately hurting himself, like his last desperate attempts, in any case. Plus, he was single, so he was not cheating on anyone.

Out of arguments to refute, he had eventually revealed his special case; his body's stubborn stability. Pimp was even more excited at working on an authentic purestrain, "an actual adult blank slate", which he had never worked on before. His method wasn't suitable for children, and the slave market never had dotters, of any age.

Seeing his enthusiasm, Zax had caved in. He gave every cooperation, answered honestly to every question about his taste, preferences and experiences. Pimp truly was competent at what his task. He could be brutal and dominant, soft and considerate, and everything in between. He was so skilled at reading and playing his bed partner, at finding their limits, teasing them and pushing them; it had to be from a mutation. The doter refused to believe it could come from pure training.

How long had their romp lasted. Hours? Days? Weeks? It was an endless maelstrom of physical and psychological stimulation, pausing only enough to not let him get used to it, to eat, and to sleep.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, part of him could admire the artistry. The same part was focusing on his last breakthrough.

When his body and his mind were synchronised – during orgasms – he could more neatly perceive his and his partner's meridians, although those more fleetingly. The previous time, it had taken deep meditation to barely feel his own. Now it was nearly easy. He saved a precise map in his nanites. Thinking at all was a struggle during those brief windows; it wouldn't have happened if they were any less integrated with his neural pattern.

The maps also made it easier to see his meridians outside meditation or stimulation. It wasn't easy, but with focus, Zax could manage. He recorded everything. How they reacted to movements. How they thickened and thinned with emotions. How they interacted with other's, which was a total surprise.

Fascinating.

It made him more open to try Pimp's ideas and to push his limits, which was greatly appreciated by the coitus expert.

After a few hit-and-miss, Zax had successfully mapped all of Pimp's meridians too. Once he knew what he was doing, it had taken a mere three orgasms and some cuddling.

Analysis would have to wait. He didn't have that much mental bandwidth.

Still no sign of activation, however. When Pimp left the bedroom for the first time in hours, Zax had thought he had tried everything he knew. How wrong he had been.

First came toys. Lots of toys, devices and scenarios. Then he called for help. Employees and customers. A great variety of people. Sometimes several at once.

Males and females.

Nice or mean.

Pushy or considerate.

Tall or small.

Bulky, fat, lean or slim.

Thick fur. Thin fur. Silky fur.

Rough scales. Soft scales.

Long feathers. Short feathers.

Hands and feet with claws, webs, hooves, paw pads.

Horns, antlers, antennas.

Slimy leather. Mucus skin.

Zax was put down like vermin and lifted up like a king, hugged like a precious gem and spread apart like a plaything. He intimately interacted and was interacted with, in every possible way, with as many different traits as were available.

He briefly dared to hope; surely this level of activity would do something.

It didn't.

Pimp was incredible, never boring, and his people were no slouch either. They knew what they were doing, as proven by the two unrelated activations. An insecure woman was being used in tandem with he, when she had mutated voluptuous and easily lactating breasts. A twink of a man had mutated in a musclebound bear-man and turned the table on the tall goat-woman who was manhandling and chocking him. All mutually consenting.

Somehow.

The dotter had learnt a lot, about people and their reactions, about dirty talk and anatomy, about himself, about mutations, but he still failed to activate.

The boss eventually relented. He didn't admit defeat, but he conceded this challenge would require more time and resources than he could afford or deliver just now. He arranged to spread their sessions some, to give himself time to plan and for other endeavours. He still had a business to manage.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

He couldn't let Zax waste away doing nothing until he succeeded, however, so he agreed to use his actual skills.

Thus, the prisoner was set in a fully equipped laboratory, to provide nano-technological support. How had they acquired any of those materials? A mystery, but they had. Even live mice, which Zax had half-heartedly listed as an afterthought. He would have to make the more sensitive components from scratch, but even the dot would have a hard time doing better.

"This is Hip, my right hand, most sought-after employee, and my masterpiece. If you need anything, ask them. They'll give you every support, within reason."

Warden-Helper acquired.

Zax was not allowed out of the lab, but there was everything he needed. Even a separate bedroom/entertainment room, for mental health. Everything was dug in stone, but decorated to feel normal. No cabin fever here.

The restrictions and constant monitoring would not let him consider them friends, but he could admire the masterpiece he lived with. Hip had been part of the orgy, before Pimp gave up. It felt a bit awkward to only be introduced after the fact.

Masterpiece was the right word.

Totally human, no foreign trait or organs, no surgery. Well-developed primary and secondary, male and female sexual organs. An actual hermaphrodite. A legend made flesh.

When the common person thought about sexual mutations, they were usually thinking of secondary sexual traits. Breasts, voice, pilosity, skin, muscles, even general size for some. Those were the most common. Mutations involving only reproductive organs seldom happened, and when they did it was mostly regular enhancements. Size, stamina, recovery, fertility, productivity.

Genital inversion was a myth, something never achieved. The closest was reducing attributes to a neglectable point, resulting in perfect, likely sterile, androgyny.

The addition of a second set of genitals, while discussed and theoretically possible, was unheard of. Yet it had happened, here amongst criminals, hidden from the Shelter, away from all those who would be appreciate the accomplishment it was.

What a waste.

What was more, this second set was of the opposite gender, and both were fully functional!

Not one, but three impossibilities at once.

Zax had wasted no time in making a template for Hip. He probably knew their body more than themselves, but they made it clear they weren't interested in talking with him. Or to him. They would follow Pimp's order, nothing more, nothing less.

They couldn't impregnate themselves, their DNA was still fully male, but they could impregnate and be impregnated without issue. They had yet to let it happen, but the possibility was there.

It might result in a YY chromosome in the offspring, but Zax didn't know what effect it would have.

Unfortunately, Pimp and Hip stayed tight-lipped about the process. All Zax knew was they had been bought like he had been, much for the same reasons, and they had a stronger connection with Pimp than anyone else.

Can't blame them; definitely an intimate issue.

In practice, Hip was simultaneously masculine to the N-th and feminine to the N-th, and emphasised one or the other according to the situation. Intimidation or seduction. Strength and grace. Strong muscles and supple skin. High stamina and coordination. Highly adjustable voice. Even their pilosity was a strong mix of traits instead of a half-assed midpoint.

All within human parameters. Way above average, but not near human peak. Zax couldn't tell why, but it seemed relevant.

The hobbyist would love nothing more than to be friends. Sadly, the living masterpiece was not receptive. [Jealousy], his nanites claimed, though he couldn't fathom a reason. [Devotion] to their owner was the only reason they had agreed to have any nanites in them in the first place.

He noted his last observations about the hermaphrodite's cognitive attributes and sent them away. If they didn't want to, they would have no neural interface. They grabbed their clothes and stomped out without putting them on, throwing a side glare before closing the door.

The doter didn't take it to heart, but his unofficial assistant wasn't as immune. Migo barely waited for the door to slam before expressing his grief:

"Their throat looks tastier by the second." The growl vibrated his throat at the same time the synthetic voice left his collar.

Working together could only help. The fake pet was burning for revenge and had mostly been ignored since they arrived, and as sweet as Zax's current deal was, he wouldn't stand being captive, nor the corruption currently rotting his home away.

Zax had claimed the wolf was his main guinea pig and nanite carrier. Migo had played along, a veteran in the art of pretending to be a useful pet. A basic scan showed nanites and results of past experiments in the canine but nothing in Zax, and no one would believe someone could be crazy enough to have nanites in them if they could help it.

Who knew this inconvenience would turn to my advantage?

The former dotter had made himself at home in the lab. He had no specifics or plan, yet, but showing he was useful gave him more time, and having more nanites around couldn't hurt.

He had started with his usual scanning nanites. Once Hip was done and used as example, the rest of Pimp's employees came one after the other, to be infused and asked about their aspirations and daily lives. Zax wasn't sure they had a choice about it; but he didn't question it. He trusted Pimp's work ethic, at least.

Their answers were wildly different from the doters and Disfavoured he had interviewed, but there were enough similarities to pull him in a comforting familiarity. They had similar hesitations, requiring reassurances he had already mastered. The keys of their ideas were the same; riches, glory, respect, influence. They simply lived in a different society with different venues to follow. On the other hand, a lot more were hostile to his nanites, and didn't mind expressing it. Loudly. With their hands, for some.

A simple "Then why are you even here? No one is forcing you." Was usually enough to shup them up.

He tried to push for making templates of as many of his recent bed partners as he could, to match them with their recorded meridians, but it would come slowly. Employee schedules and client disinterest got in the way.

The previous efforts had not been in vain, after all. He had a lot of meridian maps to sort through, of great diversity. It was clear at a glance, they changed with the person's mutation, but what each path or configuration of paths meant was a mystery. It was a boon, but sorting them was a lot of work, and time consuming.

At least I have my next step.

Especially since he wanted to hide this part of his research from his captor. He knew for a fact they would keep it to themselves, which opposed his work ethic.

He thought accidentally connecting with Aran and SG through meditation would change things. Technically, it had, just not for him. Knowing Enforcers were accomplices with his kidnappers filled him with rage, but it wasn't like he could do much. Still, he kept meditating, to reassure them and because his nanites had somehow recorded their maps.

Is Resonance somehow related to meridians? Can I affect theirs too?

Something had briefly felt off with them, right before the Resonance, so maybe. He would keep an eye open. It would be an incredible breakthrough, a revolution.

With all the hidden research, his hands were always full. Fortunately, Migo was an expert on secrecy.

Zax had planned on teaching him his expertise, to make him a secret lab assistant and help advance the public research while he focused on the private parts. He had been pleasantly surprised by the wolf's expertise in an application he had never considered: using his own body as a nanite factory.

He swallowed the chemical components, and along his digestive tract were extractors, mixers and even incubation chambers, a mix of natural and nanite-made processes, to produce nanites far below his standards, but still of acceptable quality.

Crazy and genius.

They learnt a lot from each other.

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