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Heinrich and The Accidental Invention of Vitamin D(ick)

Something’s missing and I can’t put my finger on it; a piece of the puzzle has been misplaced somewhere, existing in a time and space far away from here. So far that it’s nearly impossible to see it with the naked eye. I often think to myself, can everything really be complete? Is anything actually a perfectly-formed mass of molecules? Surely, we’re more than just…science. Aren’t we? I mean, isn’t there more to us humans than mere flesh, blood, bones, and swirling, demonising thoughts?

Among these deep existential questions, yes, there is. There are also inhuman things. We add to our bodies, we modify ourselves internally with fleeting, external vices. Cigarettes. Drugs. Booze, Sugar. You name it. And the effects? It all feels good for a while. Doesn’t it? Then it feels numb. How much you feel it, however, depends entirely on your mindset and your physicality.

And then come the vitamins and minerals; miniature gems of vitality, sparkling underneath the light of the morning sun as it pours in through the kitchen window in sheets. The origin story of the Vitamin D is most peculiar. I’ll warn you of this in advance. In much the same way as Vanilla Extract is vanilla…extracted, Vitamin D is the bare, unsoiled essence…of dick. Pure, racially unbiased, sexuality and gender neutral, size indifferent, flaccid D.I.C.K.

This isn’t a joke either—I couldn’t come up with such an unrealistic-sounding fact even if I tried. Up until the 1960s, the cold-pressed supplement manufacturerss of the world had long been criticised for their unethical approach to extraction, using a method known, fittingly, as ‘Dixtraction’.

Now, the main issue with Dixtraction is that the scientists assigned to the factory were regularly Dixtracted by all the Dix at the Dixtastic Disco, even before ‘Disco’ was a thing. And they were wearing flairs, too so they knew what they were doing. The truth of the matter was that despite knowing absolutely nothing about Vitamin D deficiency, almost ninety percent of the scientists had a deficiency themselves. One day, a scientist who went by the name of Heinrich happened to stumble upon a flask containing an obscure brown liquid. This was a guy who was used to seeing obscure brown liquids but this, on the other hand, was a good couple of Pantone shades lighter—160C to be exact.

Heinrich was an adventurer, scaling the buildings of his mind to fathom the mysteries of the universe. A Grade H hypothesiser. And on this day, he hypothesised that the liquid would have healing properties akin to taking a brisk walk by the ocean. Because, consuming dick had been proven to have that effect on humans. Still, due to the unethical conditions under which the study had taken place, it wasn’t exactly clear which subject the liquid had been squeezed from. Heinrich didn’t pay this any mind, though. Accuracy was as unimportant to him as a political debate about the undocumented role of fisting enthusiasts during the War.

Instead he slipped on his finest latex gloves, took a crystal Champagne flute from the glass cabinet—one of his mother’s—and carefully filtered the liquid into it, watching as each drop hit the last and splashed upwards in a cacophonous dolphin display of lust. Tipping the glass at an angle, he could clearly see that the stuff was untainted. After all, the subject had ejaculated just moments before Dixtraction had commenced. Heinrich’s nostrils flared, eyes watering with anticipation. Saliva formed at the corners of his mouth, anticipating the taste of heaven.

He poured the raw essence down his throat, gagging as it made its way through his pipes—that was the first glug at least. But after that, the taste began to mellow. In fact it mellowed so much that it seemed like a different substance altogether. By the time he’d reached the final dregs, a strange feeling was already coming over him. Then, his friend, Yusef Trebowlski, came…over him. It was the most surreal experience. What on earth had caused this to happen? Cum dripped down Henrich’s burning cheeks. It quickly dawned on him. Yusef had also consumed the Pantone 160C liquid.

Scheisse! 

He cursed under his breath as he collected Yusef’s specimen in one of the small glass tubes he kept in his pocket in case he ever needed to collect samples of mysterious secretions on the job. He quivered in place, frozen and splattered. Now that he’d been exposed, was he about to become the next victim of the Co-enzyme Cum10 leak? This was hostile abdication—he would be forced to renounce his position as Chief Scientist if that were to ever-

Fuck.

It was already too late. He was getting hard. The ultra-potent Co-enzyme Cum10 was working its cursed magic all the way up his shaft and into the tip. In an alternate universe, this could be heaven or it could be hell. And on that day, and on that planet, it was certainly hell.

But hey, we got the super vitamin, widely known as ‘DickCum10’ out of this experiment.

Oh wait…no, sorry.

That’s actually my username on Grindr.

 

 

 

 

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