05-24-2016, 07:05 AM
There's an agency that specializes in fertility as well as it captures people from around the world at a high price. That's why only the rich can truly afford this. The fertility drugs can be customized in any way necessary. In this particular case, a client asks for this drug and a person out of boredom and also just because he has a deadline to meet in terms of receiving a fortune. Unfortunately, he gets more than he bargained for.
Name: Tristian Oswinn Pettyfer
Age: 25
Height: 6'4
Weight: 215 lbs of mass muscle
Small description: British, Short brown hair styled in a fauxhawk, but usually wears a beanie over it. Iris colors are a mix of green and blue. He's put into this position out of desperate measures because his father refuses to give him his inheritance because of his sexuality, despite how masculine the male has made himself appear. Only way for him to gain it is to sire a child. Tristan finds himself waiting on his package in his comfty village side house, where he's free to do whatever he desires with privacy.
==============
The serum arrived at his door earlier in the day, the male following instructions in keeping it refrigerated. As for his other package, he desired something masculine, a personal project he would like to try. If his father dictated how he should live his life for most of his duration, having him lift weights and take on various sports to live the life of a bachelor, he may as well see what it was like to break someone like that. He didn't hate them of course. He hated the idea his father knocked that notion into his and his brother's heads. Joke was on him. Tristan found another way at the expense of someone else, someone clearly not willing. In time, they would understand. He stood firm as it was midnight. The massive framed male rubbed his fuzzy chin a bit as two men dressed in military combat vests and gear brought a man before him close to his stature. He thanked them and of course while the man was unconscious, he stuck him with the syringe. Now the hard part would ensue: conception. He waited for the man to stir, Tristian readying another syringe of the drug in case it wasn't enough.
Name: Tristian Oswinn Pettyfer
Age: 25
Height: 6'4
Weight: 215 lbs of mass muscle
Small description: British, Short brown hair styled in a fauxhawk, but usually wears a beanie over it. Iris colors are a mix of green and blue. He's put into this position out of desperate measures because his father refuses to give him his inheritance because of his sexuality, despite how masculine the male has made himself appear. Only way for him to gain it is to sire a child. Tristan finds himself waiting on his package in his comfty village side house, where he's free to do whatever he desires with privacy.
==============
The serum arrived at his door earlier in the day, the male following instructions in keeping it refrigerated. As for his other package, he desired something masculine, a personal project he would like to try. If his father dictated how he should live his life for most of his duration, having him lift weights and take on various sports to live the life of a bachelor, he may as well see what it was like to break someone like that. He didn't hate them of course. He hated the idea his father knocked that notion into his and his brother's heads. Joke was on him. Tristan found another way at the expense of someone else, someone clearly not willing. In time, they would understand. He stood firm as it was midnight. The massive framed male rubbed his fuzzy chin a bit as two men dressed in military combat vests and gear brought a man before him close to his stature. He thanked them and of course while the man was unconscious, he stuck him with the syringe. Now the hard part would ensue: conception. He waited for the man to stir, Tristian readying another syringe of the drug in case it wasn't enough.
