Experimental Ethics Ch 03

** Chapter Three: Crossing the Threshold **

Truth be told, their nominal boss William was really the instigator of the illicit pre-testing. Victor had forgotten his wallet in the lab somehow and returned after-hours to retrieve it. Entering the air locked complex of inner observation and examination chambers, he was surprised to find the corridors well lit, but figured Denise was working late again. The neurologist was surprised to instead find the Vice President seated at an observation window, and Victor was truly shocked when he saw what the man was watching. In the control room, a red-haired woman slid a vibrator in and out of her pussy at an increasing pace. Almost immediately, her head lolled back as her back arched and she fucked herself into a noisy orgasm.

Despite the strange circumstances, Victor felt his cock react to the obviously legitimate cries of lust and the sight of the pale skinned, smoothly curved earthquake in the next room.

At that moment, Cromwell finally acknowledged the other scientist's entry. Indicating the frenzied woman in the other woman, he spoke: "My wife, Dr. Navarre. An acute case of sexual response disorder. She--well, we--had to find out...". His voice trailed off as Victor's eyes widened, but he quickly added, "it's voluntary, of course, and she seems to be responding very well."

Victor knew he should say something, anything, but his eyes were glued to the woman--William's wife! She was approaching the one-way glass, running her hands over her body as she walked. "Please, baby. Please, come fuck me. I've got to have that cock in me, now!" Her eyes were slightly unfocused and hazed with lust but she seemed fine otherwise. He hadn't had sex in months--the project ate up all his time--and he was getting horny as hell.

"Make a deal, Victor?" William abruptly broke into a grin, changing tone to adopt a conciliatory posture. He certainly hadn't anticipated this turn of events, at least not at this juncture, but couldn't help but be pleased by how easy it was going to be. While his voice betrayed nothing, he could sense the other man's eagerness to join him in violating their professional codes, making further off-the-books experimentation all but inevitable.

"What do you have in mind, Mr. Cromwell?" Navarre asked, emphasizing the formal name and implication of authority that came with it. While he was still in a state of shock so acute the he kept expecting to wake, he was no fool. This man was his boss, the woman his wife, and (particularly after what he'd just seen) the job was too good, the work too promising, to risk it all because he needed to get laid.

Cromwell seized his moment, counting the emphasis on his status as acquiescence to his authority, giving him license to set the terms for a pact between the men that would open a host of new doors. Also, something in him was proud of his wife at this moment, enjoying showing her off like an exotic pet to the other man, one for whom he'd always felt an unacknowledged envy. And a sadistic impulse in him made the idea of violating his wife's trust by exposing her in this state--even of allowing the other man to take more direct advantage of her drug-induced lust--deeply, if perversely, gratifying.

They came to terms quickly. The two men of science were negotiating while sporting erections, after all, which rarely leads to complex conversation. After tonight, Victor would film Cromwell's "experiments" on his wife and monitor her vital signs and responses. In exchange, he would be free to perform his own off-the-books research if and when he so desired--and would even own 10% of the patent rights on the final product when it reached the market.

The arrogant Vice President watched his wife from his peripheral view; she was busily fingering herself for his benefit and blissfully unaware that she was performing for two men rather than one. Pointing through the glass at the oblivious, desperately horny woman in the next room, he looked Victor in the eye. "Shake on it?"

Navarre broke into a grin. "You're the boss, man."

And so the real trials had begun.

#

That first night, by the time they'd both cum, the drugged redhead had almost lost consciousness, a fact that disappointed the power-drunk men; though Victor made no comment, once again very aware that he'd just fucked his boss's wife. But Cromwell seemed irate; the first phase of human trials, and already there were bugs to work out. But, the post-orgasmic crash effect might actually signal a stronger response in human subjects than anticipated, mimicking the 100+ dose threshold effects they'd noted in chimps. That was intriguing. Also, they didn't yet know whether the response was anomalous in some way. Further study was called for, clearly.

#

Freshly supplied with his own illicit stash of the current tincture, Victor started his own experiments the very next night, dosing Denise secretly before inviting her over for dinner as they prepared to seal the lab for the night. Neda was already on her way out of the building, and the two old friends were alone together, a rarity. He knew what he had planned was way over the line, but a big part of him really didn't care. Somehow, the guilt he should have felt about exploiting his friend and colleague in this way turned instead into a kind of righteous anger, directed largely at the very person he was manipulating against without her consent. But he didn't examine the logic of what he was doing, or the motivations, very much. His mind was too consumed with images drawn from the past and fantasies of the future, visions of her flesh under his control. And the idea of her considerable intellect and will subsumed to his was a powerful drug all its own, one that made any reservations he had utterly irrelevant.

While they were now supposedly "just friends"--a bunch of manipulative female bullshit if he'd ever heard any--he'd never stopped wanting her. But the failure of their romantic relationship left him feeling rejected and harboring some bitterness toward her, though he tried hard not to betray himself by showing it. Sometimes he fantasized about her coming back to him, literally crawling across the floor, begging his forgiveness. In these fantasies, she begged for a lot of things; tonight, he'd see those fantasies come to life.

What else could matter? After all, dreams don't very often come true.

#

By the time they reached Navarre's apartment, he thought his ex-girlfriend was actually coming on to him, something that would have been unlikely even when they were dating. Encourage and still frustrated and horny from the previous evening's unsatisfying after-hours duties assisting the Cromwells, Victor added five more drops to the cocktail he fixed for her.

Ten minutes later, his reserved and sexually inexperienced colleague was bent forward onto the dining room table, her bare tits pressed flat and slickly rubbing the waxed surface as she eagerly pressed her hips back to meet Victor's thrusts as he fucked her dripping pussy from behind. She growled, feral with lust, as his pace increased; the chemist's little frame quaked in orgasm. Without pause, she continued her enthusiastic humping.

"Yes, yes, fuck...you fuck me so good...more, yes, please more...so fucking hot." She was babbling, a steady stream of nastiness littered with pleas for more of Victor's cock. "Harder...faster...yeah, give me that cock...wear that pussy out..." He cheerfully obliged.

Another orgasm made her whole body thrash and her inner muscles clench and release in rapid-fire bursts. Victor felt the cum rise from his balls as her super-charged tunnel milked him expertly of its own accord. Lost in the moment and unconcerned about her reaction, he grabbed his ex by the hair, pulling her head back somewhat as he used the extra leverage to pummel her cunt as his orgasm approached. "You like that, you bitch? You like me fucking you?"

The question was lost on Denise, who was swallowed by another pleasure wave the moment her head was pulled backwards; the shock of the slight pain, the fire in her pussy and the sense of helplessness combined to short-circuit all capacity for reason. It seemed she'd never stop cumming, but then she felt the cock in her swell and then pulse as it flooded her with Victor's semen, and she came harder than ever, screaming her release before losing consciousness. As she passed out, a sated and slightly dazed Victor pulled his softening cock out of her slack body and gently lowered her to a supine position on the floor.

#

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