I looked down at the raven-haired vixen before me, dutifully sucking my cock as her fingers gently played with my balls. It was amazing how much my life had changed in such a short time. Only weeks ago I was a thirty-five year-old virgin and now this girl woman before me, this sexy, intelligent, seductive beauty would not only have sex with me, but she'd do practically anything I'd tell her to do. For a while anyway.
She glanced up at me to check if I was enjoying her services. I smiled with approval and she did something that sent a jolt of pleasure through my entire body. My head whipped back as I moaned. When I looked back down she smiled at me before doing it again. Playful minx. I decided to remind who was in charge by grabbing her head and shoving my cock as deeply into her mouth as I could. I don't have a big cock. I would have to say I'm average. In fact, average would be the best way to describe me; average height, average weight, average looks, average salary. I don't work out. I'll play sports when I'm invited, which is generally during summer months when a random game breaks out at the park. I'm pretty much a geek into sci-fi and video games, but I love watching football too. I hang out with my buds at the bar on Saturday nights, never scoring, and on Sundays at one of our houses, killing enemy soldiers, zombies, or each other in various games. I have a 9-5 blue collar job and a manageable credit card debt.
"So what happened?" you're asking right. It all comes down to one word. Confidence. The confidence I showed when I took control of that girl's head. The confidence I used to order her around my place after unloading my sperm in her mouth. The confidence I used to get her to fuck me in the first place. But let's start at the beginning.
*
My buddy Mike is a scientist in a drug lab, a legit one. They were working on a new formula, hoping for a military contract. The aim was suppress the fear centers of the brain to make braver soldiers. Yes, he was under a non-disclosure agreement, but best friends talk. Plus, as the guy who cleans the labs--a job Mike got me--you get to hear a lot of things that you probably shouldn't. I'd passed the security screening and, at first, people were diligent about keeping things from me, but after a certain amount of "rescues" when experiments went bad, or someone was just clumsy, people relaxed around me and became a little more open about certain experiments. There were even a few rare occasions when bouncing a problem off me got a suggestion from such an unscientific way of thinking that it serendipitously led to the solution.
Mike's experiments were successfully unsuccessful. They had managed to increase the confidence in lab animals (after getting passed the point where that confidence came out as intense aggression) but it seemed that the animals' bodies would compensate for the boost within hours. The result was the reverse. A male mouse that would intimidate another male would be submissive to it soon after. Dosing the mouse with more of the formula at the right times to keep its confidence up would work for a few days, but then the mouse would die. Every time. Stop the treatment before it died and the mouse would spend as much time as wimpy, scared creature as it had been the aggressor.
During a discussion about it Mike said something that caught my attention that most scientists would never contemplate. "There drug doesn't have any other side effects," he said. "All the mice from previous batches are fine even six months later." He chuckled. "If the soldiers didn't mind being wimps for eight hours after an eight hour assault then they could have it now."
"Eight hours?" I asked. "That's how long it lasts?"
"Not to the minute. It varies from mouse to mouse but that's about the average. Eight hours, two minute, and thirty-seven seconds according to the processed data. The weird thing is it takes about eight hours for the drug to even start working. So it, more or less, fits into a twenty-four hour cycle."
"Wouldn't it be shorter in people?" I asked.
"That's the interesting thing about the drug. A bigger does doesn't last longer, it just makes you more confident ... and consequently more of a wimp."
"Oh I get it."
"Anyway, this batch is a wash, like the others. Hey, do you mind disposing of it for me? I gotta take a leak."
"No problem," I said.
I watched Mike leave the lab and then looked at several beakers, test tubes, and syringes full of the stuff. Yeah, you know where this is going.
Now the disposal of chemicals is all about procedure. These go in this container, those go in that one. Non-hazardous waste goes somewhere else. There was no way I could walk out of the building with stolen formula, but formula carefully sealed and disguised and put in the wrong container could make its way out. Especially if you're the one in charge of disposing it, and if you're willing to crawl through a garbage bin in the middle of the night to retrieve it.
So let's skip to just after the shower that washed the garbage off me. Here I was with a supply of a drug that could increase my confidence and then turn me into a wimp. It may not make sense at first until you think it through. If I take the drug at noon on Friday then it would kick in at around 8pm. I'd then be confident until 4am. So I get home before that, curl up in bed and prepare to become a wimp until noon on Saturday. If the process worked (and didn't have any unforeseen effects because I'm not a mouse) it could change my weekends forever. And, hey, it was Thursday night!
I stored the formula in my fridge and made a mental note to buy a mini-fridge that I could lock.
Okay, some of you may be saying, "No sane person would try an unstable drug with no human trials to try to pick up women." Many of the people who say this will probably be women. Let me say again: I was a thirty-five year-old virgin! When it came to getting laid, sanity took a backseat.
Add to that the conversations I'd had with women that almost consistently stated that women love confidence and it was something I lacked. I was the safe friend who you bitch about your bad-ass boyfriend to then snuggle up with for comfort before going back to the boyfriend for hot sex.
No ... fucking ... more.
The next day at work at noon, I pulled out an echinacea bottle, dropped 5 drops of the formula into my mouth and went about my day. Yes, I was a little worried about falling into a fit of convulsions, turning green, or growing a tail, but my observations in the lab and Mike's assurances about it helped push those worries away. The end of the work day arrived and Mike, as usual on Friday, suggested we hit a bar after dinner. I usually declined. Watching Mike pick up while I could barely hold a conversation before a girl would spot someone more interesting, didn't appeal to me. This time I accepted.
*
I finished my meal just before 8pm and sat there for a few minutes waiting for the drug to kick in. I prepared myself for a wave of either confidence or nausea, but neither arrived. By 8:15 I began to suspect that the drug might not work on humans. I told Mike I'd meet him at 9pm though so I jumped in the shower. I began to wonder why these evenings always made me so nervous. The girls at the bar weren't supermodels and even if they were I'd seen some of them walk out with what I would say were ugly, slimy, or just unappealing men. My thought had always been that the men had money, but thinking back, many of them didn't look wealthy. And, if these girls were so amazing then why were so many of them single? My mind flashed back to a picture of an incredibly hot chick with the caption, "No matter how good she looks now, somebody somewhere is sick and tired of putting up with her shit."
I chuckled. Women. What the hell had I been thinking?
I usually tried to dress to impress, on these nights. You know, use every advantage. But tonight I thought jeans and collared shirt would be enough.
Enzo's was a hot spot on Fridays where the trendy people gathered. Mike was already there when I arrived and already chatting up a girl and her friend. I walked up and said, "Hi."
"Jeff!" Mike said. "Girls this is my buddy, Jeff. Jeff, this is Tina and Allison."
"Hello," I said to Tina, taking her hand in both of mine as I shook it. A waif in her little black dress, the barely over five feet tall Asian girl with tiny breasts and a sleek ass looked cute as hell. Her short brown hair spiked up a little, giving her the appearance of a pixie. I smiled and squeezed her hand as we locked eyes. "I love your earrings."
"Oh thank you!" she said. "They're new."
I'd seen her playing with them as I crossed the bar. An unconscious act to draw attention to them perhaps?
"The green in them accents your eyes. Not that your eyes need enhancing."
Her face took on a slight blush.
"Thank you."
I turned immediately to Allison and took her hand. This blonde stood as tall as me, taller in her heels. Her low-cut blouse showed off full breasts and her jeans hugged a large round ass. I suspected that the ass was not quite to well formed outside of the jeans though.
"Allison," I said. "And here I thought Amazon's were a myth."
She slapped me lightly with her free hand. "Charmer."
"Should I stop?"
She shook her head with a big smile. "Not at all."
"Mike tells us you guys work at a chemical lab," Tina jumped in. "So you're both scientists?"
I laughed. That was what we always told girls. I'd never opened with I'm a janitor. What girl would be interested in me after that? Now that I look back, what girl was interested in me not knowing that. So...
"No, he's the scientist. I clean the lab."
"You're a janitor?" Allison asked.
