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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
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Visionary
by ufpe (no address provided)
***
An Aphrodasiac Adventure. (MF, nc, drug, fantasy)
***
Some call me a visionary, others a nerd, but most call
me perverted. That's why I'm in this institution,
undergoing mundane group therapies, watching headcases
substantiate their titles, and secretly flushing the
medicinal concoctions I'm given daily. At first, I was
angry; but have learned to become a passive drone,
partially in self-preservation, and partially because
the staff remains blissfully unaware that I continue
my "disgusting" research with my true friend and co-
conspirator at the lab.
Cheryl is a true poster child for Walmart, disguised
in a lab coat and coke bottle lenses that create a
most annoying asthmatic nasal wheeze. Through
clandestine weekly data transfer on the back blank
pages of the novels she brings me during visiting
hours, we are perfecting the libido serum I spent the
better part of post graduate school developing. Once
released from this "civilized" behavioral modification
prison, we will distribute the serum under an "herbal"
label liberally and earn an esteemed place in medical
history for our discovery.
Perhaps a little background would be in order. I came
from a two sibling Christian conservative family that
matured in a quiet suburban community. My folks were
of the scientific persuasion, both had jobs in
different research facilities. Their hours were long
but their love for Jake (my brother) and myself was
genuine and uncompromising, insuring our needs were
always met with patience and understanding. Jake was
my polar opposite; firstborn and highly protective, he
pursued everything and anything masculine, excelling
in physical activities while struggling with the
academics.
I was a relatively mousy scholarly type, excelling in
the sciences while avoiding all but the mandatory
social scenes. Jake eventually left home for a
prestigious university on a football scholarship, and
I graduated from a less prestigious university on a
science scholarship. Following my parents' footsteps I
was soon employed at a bio lab on the west coast, and
Jake soon gained a foothold in a prominent legal
office in the Midwest. The family always got together
for holidays and special occasions as our love for one
another was undeterred by distance.
Somewhere during my senior year in high school, I
became curious about the opposite gender, but lacking
the necessary social skills, I suffered a string of
rejections until prom night, when the only remaining
available male asked me to join him. Encouraged – no
forced by my family, I timidly accepted, and
experienced a crash course in the alien world of make-
up and social amenities.
Fortunately, my nerd date, Riley, was also quite
inexperienced and we spent the frustrating evening
learning from our collective mistakes. The following
week, I enrolled in several introductory level courses
at the college, and was mildly surprised when Riley
called and offered dinner at a fairly upscale seafood
restaurant. Fearing familial reprisal, I accepted and
grudgingly pulled my formal gown from the plastic
sheath it hand been stored in since the day my Mother
purchased it for me.
The meal was surprisingly tasteful, and the
conversation barely tolerable. With a little too much
Chablis, I accepted his offer for a drive in his new
convertible. We drove along the starlit seas somewhat
apprehensively until he parked in a remote overlook
and nervously offered a kiss. It was tolerable, but
when I looked over his thin frame, freckle speckled
face, and thick black rimmed glasses; I knew it would
take an act of divine intervention to pass first base
and feigned nausea. Although he graciously accepted my
apology, he never called again.
By my junior year, I had established my academic
competence, and was enlisted to help tutor the
freshman newbies floundering with entry level
equations. One of the students was a "jock" with the
mathematical aptitude as a Precambrian rock, but with
masculine assets that triggered my primal urges.
Despite my best efforts of concealment, Brad was aware
of my attraction, and on the third session he
convinced me to expose parts of my anatomy only my
doctor had seen before. It was a turning point in my
career and my life, as his exposed engorged apparatus
inspired both awe and inspiration that would soon
dominate my conscious thought.
Far from knowledgeable in the art of female
stimulation, his beautiful organ was more than
sufficient arousal to sustain his brutal assault on my
virginity. My battered vagina was quickly filled with
his ejaculate despite my best efforts to introduce
foreplay. He was gone before I could recover.
Some might refer to the encounter as date rape, but
for me it was a marvelous sexual awakening. His
magnificent organ, a thick throbbing mindlessly
sensitive tool, was able to expose his vulnerabilities
while fulfilling my own with brutally beautiful
efficiency unmatched in the natural world. I
immediately immersed myself in the myriad of media
dedicated to human sexuality and was surprised to find
the fleeting nature of its induced euphoria.
Usually, within a few years of initial bonding, the
rapture dwindled into memory for all but a fortunate
few. Differing coping mechanisms from medicinal
supplements to multiple partners were often tried,
until inevitably, the initial euphoria was replaced
with material substitutes that eventually proved
themselves woefully inadequate. Described in one text
as the "human condition," I rejected the common adage
of acceptance and immediately began to compile
research on the origins of sexual abandonment.
I met Cheryl during one of my fact finding missions to
a rest home. Enthusiastic and curious, she assisted me
during my interviews, often able to extract critical
information with ease. During a break over a cup of
surprisingly well brewed coffee, I learned she was
woefully inexperienced and had conceded to spend her
life void of sexual fulfillment.
We connected immediately, and I disclosed my research
motives and objectives which she gleefully
acknowledged and vowed her complete support. With
gentle encouragement, I soon convinced her to get back
into the "meat market," and her life soared. On
several occasions we shared our partners and even
experimented with each other sexually. We became
inseparable, sharing an apartment and experiences with
trusted confidence few shared.
Once I was securely established with PenChem, I was
given access to their vast chemical procurement
accounts and high end laboratories. Immediately I
began formulating potential fertility serums from both
known and untested aphrodisiacs. Preliminary results
were disastrous, and the multitude of required test
prohibitive.
On several occasions, I suspended my efforts to
maintain my grips with reality. During these breaks, I
would pursue my experiences with the beautiful organ
that offered an endless variety of sensations. I
learned the critical interaction of the minds' overall
contribution to fulfillment, and the mental triggers
that needed to be enhanced to provide the highest and
prolonged level of orgasmic release. Cheryl
contributed her perspectives eagerly, often employing
the sum of our collective observations on some
unsuspecting candidate.
Although our physical attributes were not conducive to
attracting our male counterparts, our attitudes and
techniques spawned a continual supply of potential
suitors. We kept our encounters brief and noncommittal
to avoid stereotyping, while reinforcing new
techniques to insure the highest level of mutual
satisfaction was mutually achieved.
By the end of my second year of research, I had
blended bremelanotides, allicin, boron, folic acid,
and several stabilizing elements into a formidable
compound that made the lab rats aggressive super sexed
rodents. Rhesus primates responded even more
favorably, with a two drop diluted dose for an aging
female, Molly; the entire collection of five males
were repeatedly drained over a 36-hour period. Their
recovery, once the genders were separated, was rapid
and uneventful.
I shared the results with Cheryl who begged me for a
sample and the following weekend was reserved under
the conditions that I would be allowed to select her
partner and monitor their vitals for any
incongruities.
On Friday evening, I arrived with a small vial of test
serum, a couple of pizzas, and a kindly middle aged
volunteer I had secured from the local fertility
clinic. He appeared in good physical condition for his
age despite a history of ED. Cheryl was dressed in a
sexy nightie, and with a few ground rules and a quick
check of their vitals, I carefully measured a teaspoon
of the light brown serum into two glasses of water.
The effect was immediate; Cheryl's aggressiveness was
almost frightening and her appetite was appalling. Her
counterpart, Chet, was almost immediately up to the
task at hand. With foreplay a mere afterthought, both
recipients were disrobed with their faces in each
other's crotch. Judging from bulge in Cheryl cheeks,
the serum effectively negated his ED and restored any
libido issues they may have had.
I must confess, the next several hours of debauchery
would make a seasoned porn star blush, and despite my
best efforts to document their vitals, I finally had
to throw down the clipboard in frustration. My two
possessed subjects were so engrossed in their passion,
they couldn't be separated, and I finally retired to
the comfort of the overstuffed lounge with my favorite
toy to observe and "take the edge off" my overactive
libido.
During an extended love making session, I slid off the
chair onto his mouth, where his highly experienced
tongue exposed previously unknown areas of sensitivity
that thrust me into a series of explosive orgasms.
After several more minutes of mindless rutting and a
final desperate lunge into Cheryl's sperm soaked
orifice, Chet rolled onto his back with exhaustion.
Cheryl leaped to her feet, and after a quick shower
and change of clothes, announced her need to party.
Leaving Chet in an exhausted heap on the floor, I sped
to the seedy redneck "strip." While I parked, Cheryl
made a hasty exit to survey the scenery.
When I entered, she was on all fours on a small table
being pounded from behind by a well-endowed leather
clad character her Mother surely warned her about.
Behind his pumping hips, a line of would be suitors
had formed in various stages of undress, massaging
their packages into readiness. It was a remarkable
display of the male anatomy with a multitude of
various sizes and shapes in various states of arousal
obscenely displayed for my unsolicited assessment. I
made my way to the now empty bar and the aging
bartender set down a freshly opened beer next to me.
"Reckon I might get in line," he mumbled barely
audibly over the blaring jukebox.
I turned around and observed, "I don't see any line."
A smile slowly crossed his face and he gently took my
hand and led me behind the bar as my hand appraised
his package through his clothes. A quick tug at the
belt, and his pants slid to the floor unceremoniously.
His pudgy hands gently slid under my t-shirt to my
breasts and slid my bra up over the aroused flesh to
tease my nipples. As I tugged his underwear down, I
beheld a small uncut member more aptly fitted to a
young boy. Turning me gently to view the unfolding
debauchery of my best friend, I leaned over the bar
permitting his full access to my genitals.
Gently, after several unsuccessful attempts, I felt
his "noodle" penetrate my labial folds and begin a
slow gentle massage that was uniquely fulfilling. By
the time his warm seed oozed into my receptive canal,
the "size matters" debate had been superseded by the
importance of technique. I thanked him as I rearranged
my attire, and wandered over to Cheryl's prone form.
Used beyond human limits; with bruise wounds sprinkled
all over her body, a distended vulva oozing gallons of
spent seed, and the biggest smile I've ever seen her
carry, I turned her body over gingerly as the bar
tender came over with several towels and helped me to
wipe her down. We wrapped her in a clean tablecloth,
and he helped me ease her into the car while
discussing the problems with emergency medical
intervention.
The bar tender graciously offered me $100 for her care
and to keep our mouths shut. Although she was almost
too weak to speak, she kept reassuring me she would be
alright during the drive home. Once I drove into the
driveway, Chet rushed out to help her into bed, and by
the time I finished my shower, I could hear them going
at it again. The next day, they left the bedroom only
to briefly nourish themselves.
Upon returning from some errands Sunday, I found
Cheryl on the sofa, exhausted and sore, but otherwise
the beloved roommate that had anxiously downed the
serum 48-hours earlier. I asked her to describe
everything she could recollect while still fresh and
shared my admiration for her courage and resolve. Chet
emerged from a steamy shower naked and I seized the
opportunity to carefully study the rigid red tool that
had thoroughly ravished Cheryl over the course of the
past two days. It was tender to the touch and still
almost painfully erect, yet with a few gentle strokes,
several globs of his essence erupted violently and
splattered on the floor.
With his virility no longer in question, we briefly
stated our concerns over tenure. For the next several
hours, they discussed their erotic evolutions, and
confirmed an absence of negative side effects. He had
to leave shortly thereafter although his desire to
remain was almost tearfully apparent. She recommended
the senior center as an excellent test bed which I
quickly dispelled as premature albeit promising.
The following week was filled with procurement of the
necessary materials, carefully monitored mixing and
fermenting, and an endless compilation of data
analysis. I barely slept, and without the
understanding support of my roommate, would never have
completed the oppressive schedule.
Friday, I returned to the facility where Cheryl worked
and accepted volunteers after carefully checking their
health data. Human test subjects are generally frowned
upon by the pharmaceutical companies, yet the early
success coupled with the prohibitive battery of
required lab tests made human test far more practical.
A minimum dose of the cola flavored serum was
distributed to the residents with excellent health
records and Cheryl was sworn to secrecy.
Saturday morning's anticipation quickly turned into a
geriatric horror movie when we arrived. Semi-naked
residents were running wildly through the fenced in
institution with orderlies in hot pursuit. I've never
envisioned so many flopping breasts and rigid wrinkled
cocks in bawdy unrestrained action! Those who declined
the serum and managed to hide were holed up in a small
locked annex where supplies were stored. With no
anecdote, we were helpless after herding the sex
crazed recipients into their resident bedrooms, and I
quickly returned to the lab to consider the medicinal
options.
Later that afternoon, when visiting hours commenced,
my fate was sealed and I was arrested. My Brother
Jake, flew out to help with my defense, but after
reading the indictments and statements, concluded an
insanity plea would be my best recourse. Deceiving the
psychology quacks was surprisingly simple; most were
deranged already. In a highly publicized lightning
trial, I was convicted and sentenced to a mental
institution for an indefinite period of time.
At our tearful farewell, I gave Jake a pint of my
serum in appreciation, and he soon became instrumental
to marketing and distribution. Cheryl has the
remainder of the serum secretly stored in a discreet
location less a small quantity she has prudently
distributed to trustworthy individuals; the judge's
wife being one of the first.
Epilogue
Several months later, two agents from Homeland
Security escorted me to an undisclosed location in the
middle of the night where I was tearfully reunited
with Cheryl. A General with a no sense of humor had my
release form and offered to sign it if I were to
surrender all my research to date, permanently
discontinue further similar research, and disavow any
knowledge of said research.
In return, he offered freedom from a lifetime in the
loony bin, a permanent research position at a leading
medical institution, and dismissal of all pending
charges against Cheryl as an accomplice. I grudgingly
accepted if Cheryl would be employed as my assistant.
The release papers were signed and the accumulation of
my research was packed in the back of an unmarked
government van the next day (save a few vials of serum
Cheryl had hidden beneath her underwear in the
dresser).
Above a remote Korean border outpost, a small unmarked
drone sprayed a fine pine scented mist that lazily
drifted on the slight breeze for several sparsely
populated miles. Shortly thereafter, a squad of
specially trained Navy Seals walked through the
frontier, and within minutes had tapped into the
communication network.
Once the "eavesdropping" monitor was discreetly
planted, they slipped past the mist induced orgy
unnoticed to the safety of their headquarters. A new
era in warfare had officially begun.
Meanwhile, I had just bottled my latest batch of serum
in the underground lab despite Cheryl's objections.
After all, I had met the three criteria I had agreed
to; 1) All my research had been surrendered, 2) All my
research had been suspended; I had already perfected
the serum and 3)We were sworn to secrecy. I suggested
we give the new batch a test run, and within moments,
we were both underway to the sleazy district in sailor
town.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously
consider seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 77