The Sex Formula

((The continuing saga of those exposed to PK-12, and the effect it has on their lives. A dark fairy tale of a story, following the sexploits of the characters involved, and how their lives are changed.))

It had been eight weeks since Susan Montgomery had been exposed to the leak at the laboratory. Eight weeks since co-workers, researchers, fellow scientists, and her loving parents, had watched her put on a sex show. Eight weeks since she had seen John Miller, her co-star in that show.

PK-12 was a success. The Sex Formula worked far better on humans than most of the scientists thought possible. (Except for its creator, Susan's mother, who never doubted what its initial effect would be.)

Many had theorized, incorrectly, that because human beings had a higher form of consciousness than animals, people could resist the urges PK-12 might induce in them.

Susan Montgomery found out just how effective it was at inducing urges.

Less than a minute after being exposed to the sex formula, she and John Miller had torn off each other's clothes, thrown themselves at one another, and began having intercourse.

Resisting the urge had never entered their minds.

According to one of the official reports, all the victims could do was think about mating.

"That was a funny term to use," thought Susan when she had read that. One mated with one's partner. The term transcended the love act alone. To mate with someone meant a life long commitment of shared values and goals. It mean the making of a refuge where two like minded, moral people, could live for one another and happily procreate.

Susan had never mated with anyone, and doubted she ever would.

She and John Miller hadn't mated---No! Sinfully, lustfully, gleefully, without a trace of shame or guilt at the time, they had FUCKED!

And she had loved every minute of it that she could recall!

Timing them from the start, one of the goverment scientists had determined their encounter lasted six hours, fifty two-minutes, and twenty-nine seconds.

For that incredible amount of time, Susan and John had blindly shared one another's bodies, and experienced orgasm after shattering orgasm---Powerful sexual climaxes that even now, as she thought about them, quickened her pulse and respiration, and made her yearn for the touch of the man she had shared them with.

Eight weeks later, and she continued to think about it every day. The humiliation was worst in the immediate hours afterwards. She had felt ashamed that so many people had seen her engaged in such an intimate act. Something that should have been private and sacred.

Could anything have been more humiliating than having her own father see the expressions on her face as she repeatedly climaxed, like one of the animals in the lab?

Yet there was this other thing too; The closeness she felt for the man who had been victimized with her. The craving she had to be with him. The desire to hold him, kiss him, let him inside her body again.... It didn't make sense she should feel this way!

She dared not share her feelings with any of the psychologists she was seeing, she'd be carted off to the nearest psychiatric ward. Fellow researchers, scientists like herself, would blame it on PK-12, and draw the conclusion it was some sort of unforseen, lingering, effect.

Maybe it was.

Could she be sure she was thinking rationally? Could she be sure the attraction she felt for John was real? Did she really want to be with a man she barely knew and hadn't liked?

As a scientist, she had to concede that what she was feeling might be false.

She couldn't even tell her mother about it, the one person who might understand how she was feeling. Her mom was too close to the situation, feeling terribly guilty over how her discovery had affected her daughter in front of so many of their peers.

After what she had done as her father carried her away, she certainly couldn't talk to him!

Two months since it happened, despite all the well meaning visits with concerned psychologists, despite the endless questioning by other scientists, despite the support of her parents and closest girlfriend from college, she felt utterly confused and alone.

Her hand dropped to her lower stomach, and she rubbed her tummy gently. Tears filled her eyes, and she hated herself for reacting that way. She usually had a firm grip on her emotions.

Already she could imagine the bump that would be coming, the result of the tiny fetus growing inside her. She had taken the home test twice, then had it confirmed by a blood test at a doctors office in Desert Palms.

She was undeniably pregnant.

Having a child had never been a part of her life plan. After relocating to Arizona where her parents had moved, she had decided to stay clear of the opposite sex for a while. She had decided to come off birth control completely, and let her body return to a natural state.

On her mother's insistence, she had started taking the pill long before she needed to, not actually losing her virginity until her freshman year of college. Her mother knew she had recently abandoned her birth control, and had tried to get Susan to take the morning after pill the night of the leak.

Apparently the older woman's religious scruples could be compromised if she felt the circumstances warranted it.

Susan's Catholic upbringing made no such allowance for unfortunate circumstances, warranted or not, and she had refused.

Her mother had called it an afternoon of rape. Who had raped whom? As she recalled, she had initiated the sex between her and John.

The two of them had been equally under the influence of the sex formula, yet her parents seemed to be blaming the young engineer. Their attitude was positively medieval. If anyone was guilty of rape, it was the person who had caused the leak.

It had been eight weeks since she had seen John, and she had no idea how he was doing. Her parents had given her such a strange look when she had asked about him, that she didn't bring him up again.

She didn't blame Johnny for the predicament she was in, but she realized he could walk away from her pregnancy if he chose to. Men had always had that sort of freedom. He could walk away and leave her saddled with the little package he'd deposited in her womb. Would he?

When she had transferred from her Ivy League school to the modest, but well repected University in the midwest, she had encountered different types of men.

Men who, at least outwardly, were more like her father. Typical American males to be sure, but men who seemed to have scruples, and actually lived by them. Men who were even comfortable letting women be themselves.

Her boyfriend at her first school, a grad student, had wanted her to abandon science, leave without a degree, and traipse around the planet with him as he pursued a career as an independent filmmaker.

Science had been her life since she was a child. There was no way she was going to give up science for him or anyone else. There was certainly no way she would be forgoing a degree. Someone who truly loved her wouldn't expect her to.

She had called him unbelievably selfish.

He had called her things far worse.

That had been the end of her Ivy League romance.

At the second university she had taken up with a professor, and when that fizzled out, she took up with another. Both men were in their fifties. Both men were calm, without any inner tensions. Both had already achieved what they wanted from life. Both had no interest in long term relationships.

Those were the types of men she met in the midwest, and that was just fine with Susan.

While completing her post graduate studies, Susan had a series of short term relationships with four older men. Truth be known, they were little more than one night stands.

She found older men easier to attract, and easier to move on from. She never wanted to repeat her Ivy League experience.

Her life changed dramatically when she made the decision to follow her parents to the laboratory they partially owned in the Arizona desert. Important work was being done there. It was a dream job for any scientist.

Because she and her parents had always been close, it brought her a feeling of security to be near them again, and a great deal of satisfaction to be working for them. Had she known about the so called sex formula in advance, she might have thought differently.

Had she known it was her own mother who had discovered and developed it, knowing the problem her mother faced for so many years, she definitely would have sought employment elsewhere.

Her parents maintained separate bedrooms, and Susan couldn't remember the last time she'd overheard them having sex while living under their roof.

They wouldn't talk to her about it, although they all shared equally high IQs, and had always felt comfortable talking about anything with one another. Her mother had never come right out and asked her about her sexual preferences. Susan would have shared them if she had. She did offer her some unsolicited advice, though, when Susan was a senior in high school.

"Any sex is good sex," her mother had confided to her, when she was eighteen years old. "As long as you choose the person, and you're in control. Men are like children. What they basically want are mothers with benefits."

Mother and daughter had shared their goofy laughs over that advice, brightening up the kitchen where they sat. When she started to ask her mom why she no longer slept with her husband, the discussion abruptly ended.

Susan sensed long ago that the stress between her parents had everything to do with sex. She had come home early one day to hear her mother screaming at her father that she'd find a man willing to "Do Her!"

"Good Luck," her father had angrily shouted back. "Who do think would want your Ugly Geeky Ass?"

She discreetly turned around and walked back out, and they'd never known their daughter had overheard them.

It certainly confirmed her hypothesis on why she hadn't heard them making love for so many years, or why she sometimes heard her mom crying late at night behind the closed door of her room.

Was it her father's fault? Had he lost interest in his wife? Was he impotent? Both her parents were scientists. Surely they knew there were certain remedies to be tried for that. When she gave it any serious reflection, Susan didn't think that was the issue.

With the amount of time her parents spent with one another, Susan couldn't imagine how either one might be seeing other people. If her father had lost interest in sex, why had he often glanced at some of her girlfriends with an appreciative eye, looking them up and down discreetly. He had even looked at Susan that way on occasion.

Far from feeling creepy, Susan had appreciated that passing expression on his face. If the man she loved most in the world found her attractive, even sexy, it made it easier for her to accept the fact most men didn't.

Although she loved her parents fiercely, whatever sexual dysfunction going on between them was their problem. Maybe they hadn't cheated on one another because of their religious beliefs. She didn't know, and right now she didn't care. Susan Montgomery had problems of her own.

She couldn't prove it, but she was convinced Kathy Mason was responsible for the leak in the isolation chamber. How hard would it be to hide a small device in the paperwork she'd sent over? One that would trip the curcuit and release the gas?

Just before the leak occurred, she had heard a high pitched sound like a dog whistle. It had been coming from the folder John had dropped off on the counter beside her.

How would Kathy know the right pitch to trip the curcuits? She must have had someone's help, but whose?

Her first guess would have been John Miller. He was on the engineering team. He might know the frequency.

Why would John expose himself like that? Did he not understand the full impact of the substance unleashed? No, he understood it. Anyone who observed the frenzied behavior of the lab animals understood what PK-12 was capable of. Would he subject himself to such an ordeal with a woman he hated?

It was fairly obvious John despised her. In most of their interactions he was borderline rude. She knew his type. He thought of her as someone wealthy enough to have had their entire lives handed to them on a silver platter. Having worked his way through a city college, of course he disapproved of Susan.

It was just as obvious he didn't find her attractive. Few men close to her age ever did. She was taller than average, thought of as 'gawky,' and usually didn't put too much effort into her appearance. Between her horned rimmed glasses, the way she wore her hair up, and her taste in clothes, she rarely turned heads.

Nor did John think much of her scientific skills. He had discovered a serious mistake she had made in one of her calulations once, an engineering problem another employee had asked her to look over and correct.

She had haphazardly corrected the math, but had made a serious miscalulation herself. Had it been applied to the engineering problem, it might have had serious consequences.

Somehow John Miller, the boy wonder of engineering, found the mistake and corrected it. To his credit he had pointed it out to her privately, but to have her work corrected by a graduate of a city college had infuriated her.

Still, she didn't believe he was the one who had helped Kathy. If not him, who could it have been?

Her parents would both know the proper frequency. Would either one of them want to see her so terribly embarrassed? They'd felt her humiliation almost as keenly as she had.

Watching their only child having sex for over six hours, with a man both of them knew she loathed, had taken a terrible emotional toll on them both. It was the very first time in twenty-three years she had ever seen her father cry.

And when she had been carried out of the chamber, she had a final orgasm. Had her parents noticed? True, it wasn't nearly as intense as the PK-12 orgasms had been, but it was degrading just the same, for a daughter to cum in the arms of her father!

She hadn't been able to look her father in the eye for almost a month afterwards. They had cleaned her up at the infirmary that night, she had Johnny's dried cum all over body, then sent her off with her parents in a skimpy hospital gown.

Susan spent most of her time since, talking with psychologists, and being subjected to brutal questioning by fellow scientists. At the home of her parents, she was treated like a little girl. Her parents were overcompensating in their treatment of their only child because her mother felt guilty for inventing the chemical agent Susan had been exposed to, and her father felt guilty for not being able to save her from hours of sexual intercourse with John.

No... It couldn't have been John, and it certainly wasn't her parents.

Susan was certain it had happened the way she thought, and convinced Kathy Mason had help. She would figure it out eventually.

When she had asked her mother to retrieve that folder from the chamber just a few hours after the leak, it had mysteriously vanished. It was found two days later, providing ample time to remove any device that might have triggered the leak.

The idea of human testing had been repeatedly rejected by Stacie Montgomery. Perhaps someone wanted to force the issue. Susan knew down deep it was Kathy Mason getting her revenge, but had the woman plotted with other people?

Several workers in her wing of the institute were aware of the intense dislike between her and John Miller. Did that contribute to what had been done to them? Did someone want to see if PK-12 could overcome such personal conflict?

Two people whom disliked one another as much as they did, should have had some degree of hesitation being as intimate as they were. She and John had carried on like a couple of animals in heat. Even now, long after PK-12 had worked its way out of her system, she still yearned for the touch of her Johnny.

Her Johnny?!? What the hell was going on?

Looking at her reflection in the full length mirror of her parents hallway, she realized she was blushing. Was this simply a lingering effect of her mother's sex formula? In addition to their mutual dislike, she and John Miller barely knew one another outside of work.

They certainly hadn't made love that day in the isolation chamber. They had savagely screwed together. Much of the time she wasn't even aware of what was happening. All she could remember clearly were those long, wonderful, exciting, orgasms!

The very thought of it was making her wet as she stood there.

Susan realized her mind was on a tangent. It was going off in

multiple directions. Was it because of PK-12? Was it because she was pregnant? Her thought processes were usually well ordered.

It was time for Susan to go back to her own condo. Her parents might not agree, but she was going on 24. Bizarre circumstances or not, only child or not, she couldn't depend on their protection forever.

She began packing the few items she had with her, and continued to contemplate Kathy Mason; Homophobic, Acrophobic, Febriphobic, Kathy. She was the other person who hated her at the institute, though for vastly different reasons.

In her mid-thirties, Kathy was an adequate researcher. Not brilliant, but dependable. Susan had struct up a casual friendship with her when she first went to work at the institute.

She soon discovered the woman's personal life was a hot mess, and it had only gotten progressively worse over time. Susan had already made a point of seeing less of her when the incident took place that caused the rift between them.

One night after working extremely late, Susan had wearily walked out to her jeep only to find the battery dead. She had somehow left her headlights on.

Kathy's husband, Doctor Franklin Mason, happened to be leaving at the same time and jumped the battery for her. He had even followed her the forty miles to her apartment to make sure the jeep didn't stall somewhere out in the desert.

The next night, a still grateful Susan offered to buy him a drink at the village tavern and Frank accepted. She was immediately sorry. Frank began discussing all the sordid details of how miserable his married life had become. He went on and on ad nauseam. The night before, at her apartment in Desert Palms, he had seemed so happy go lucky. Now he was like a different person.

To make a foolish story short, on their second drink, with Susan barely listening to Frank's tale of woe, Kathy Mason suddenly appeared and made a terrific scene.

She accused her husband of having an affair with Susan, and threatened to kill them both. Susan immediately got up and left, but the threats continued at work. Susan considered bringing it to the attention of human resources, but decided to hold off, hoping the situation might improve,

A month later the couple broke up, and Frank left the area. A few days after that, Kathy confronted Susan at the tavern they all frequented in the village. Again she accused Susan of having an affair with her husband, and proceeded to call her a "scheming whore."

Susan had already had more than a few drinks, and denied once again having an affair with her husband. Then, a bit too cruelly perhaps, in a low voice with a cold stare, she told Kathy it wasn't her problem a "cow" like her couldn't hold onto a man.

The older woman attacked, and the two exchanged punches.

Susan, a decade younger and in good physical condition, side stepped most of the older woman's blows, and ended up giving her a busted lip. It bled a lot, swelled up, and for a couple of days it was obvious who had gotten the worst of the exchange, but it hadn't caused any real harm....or so thought Susan.

A few days later the threats began again. Notes left in her work area that detailed all the monstrous and bizarre things that were going to befall her.