The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Fuck Bomb City: Chapter 8

Tags: mc, gr, mf, ff

Synopsis: Academics in a university are researching an innovative medical treatment, which turns out to have powerful side-effects on sexual appetites and on the body, and to be contagious. This story follows their attempts to control their libidos and the condition they have created, before the city is transformed into one rolling orgy.

The story is set in Liverpool, England. That fact makes a slight intrusion into the narrative from time to time.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance between institutions or individuals in this story and any real-life institutions or individuals is entirely coincidental. This story is not intended to refer to or satirise real people or situations.

* * *

By the time Dave and Jenny reached the lab, Andrew was long gone. Sarah, by contrast, was lying passed out of the floor, covered in his sperm and her own sweat.

* * *

Dave had noticed, as had everyone in their house, that by Friday morning, something was different in his condition. He was still ejaculating without difficulty, every half hour or so, but it wasn’t as exhilarating, somehow. Jenny was the same. Rob and Vicky had also, it seemed to them, come off the boil. They were both finding it harder to orgasm. They received a phone call from the house where Lina had been – well, holed up – with Greg, Colin and Paul, describing much the same experience.

Rob had been the first one to articulate a need they were all feeling when he said, “God, I want another hit of the emitter.”

It had been Jenny who had thought to wonder, “If we’re all having this – craving – maybe the activation is fading. And if the activation is fading, maybe we’re contagious again.”

Unfortunately all the testers were at the lab – except, Dave remembered, for the ones Markus and Tim had used to scan the student tower. He called Markus, and asked him to come over and scan their house.

While they were waiting, Dave had phoned Sarah. Unable to get a response, he called her husband, Matt, who told him that Sarah had gone into campus this morning, and yes, she’d seemed pretty edgy, and as it turned out he was too. Matt was at work in an office in the University’s finance department. Shit. Plenty of other people to have been exposed.

Dave made his way down the list, phoning everyone in turn. Mark was getting ready to go into his shift in the bar. Dave urged him to call in sick. Mark agreed relatively easily; he confided that he did, as it happened, have company upstairs who would make a sick day more interesting. Shit, thought Dave again. That’s taking one for the team. He shrugged. Well. She’ll enjoy it, anyway.

Carolina was at home, and agreed to stay there. Aoife was about to head out to see Chris and Jane, but she agreed to stay home too, and said she’d make sure that her boyfriend Sean, and Gina, who was still with them, didn’t leave the house.

Fourteen, then, counting Sarah. He called Becky, who was in the house with Lucy and Amy. They grudgingly agreed to stay in. That left Dan, and Andrew.

He called Dan.

* * *

Dan was at home.

Yesterday had been… fun. After his girlfriend, Charlotte had gone to work, he’d picked an escort from the site he had been looking at the previous day, who went by the name of Savannah, although this was possibly not the name her mother called her. He called her, and invited her to his flat. When she arrived, she had been every bit as hot as her pictures had suggested. Blonde, toned, with a pretty face and an attractive figure.

He wasn’t at all sure how these things worked; she had sensed this, and taken charge. Looking back on it, he couldn’t really remember how the encounter had got underway, but it had, that was for certain. The most noteworthy thing about the encounter – other than all the fucking, obviously – was that by the end, she was begging him to book her again. When he’d said it would take him a while to save up, she told him not to worry about that, and said that he could call her any time he had a spare few minutes, and it would be on the house. She even refused to take his money for the first visit. Of course, his experience was limited in this field, but he had the feeling that was… unusual. Savannah made the point by sticking around all afternoon, until he practically had to push her out of the door because Charlotte was due home.

So, that evening, he was able to go a lot easier on his girlfriend. She still got sore before he was ready to finish, though, and there was nothing doing in the morning, so, by the time Dave phoned him, he was already waiting for his new friend to arrive. He didn’t admit this; how could he? Even after Dave told him he was possibly contagious again, a sense of shame held him back.

If he hadn’t crossed the line before, he was well aware, at the bottom, that he was doing now. But his need was too strong, and he didn’t call Savannah to cancel, he couldn’t. In full awareness that he would infect her, he allowed her to come to him.

* * *

Andrew did not pick up his phone when Dave called. For some reason, this, combined with Sarah’s lack of response, scared Dave. By the time Markus arrived, and scanned the house from the outside, telling him the news he’d been fearing, Dave was starting to panic.

Well: she’d gone to the lab. There was only one thing for it. Jenny insisted on going with him. She drove; in the car on the way over, he spoke to Markus and then Tim on the phone. The Matt situation was the most serious problem: a whole office full of potential new contaminees, all unaware, and all potentially roaming around the area – it wasn’t far off lunchtime, Dave realised—or maybe on half-days. The only option was for Tim to take his portable emitter to the office and blast everyone, and somehow try to contain them all. This would, of course, put him at risk too. Dave didn’t have headspace for the details and the consequences. He just told Tim to do it, and figure out how and what himself.

The closer they got to the campus, the greater grew Dave’s sense of forboding. He called Stewart, the security manager.

He rushed over the formalities of greeting, then demanded, “Can you see from the swipes who has entered the department today?”

Stewart checked the system: the cleaners, one or two students, and, he reported, Sarah and Andrew. Bad news.

When Jenny pulled up outside the lab, he pretty much leapt from the car; she had to run to catch up.

Upstairs, to the teaching labs, or downstairs, to the emitter? If she was here working, she’d have gone upstairs… but he knew, he knew that wasn’t where he’d find her. The craving nagging away at him told him as much: that’s where he himself would be.

He ran down the stairs and along the corridor. The door to the emitter room was ajar.

As Jenny caught up, Dave pushed the door.

Sprawled on floor, naked, unconscious and soaked in fluids, was Sarah.

Three steps took him across the room to her side. He knelt, and cradled her head.

“Dave,” said Jenny. “The emitter’s gone.”

* * *

Tim called Stewart.

“We might have a situation.”

“Oh,” said Stewart. “You too? I’ve just had Dave on the phone. This situation seems to be breeding situations. What’s yours?”

“The University finance offices. We’re figuring out that some of the subjects might be becoming contagious again, and, well, one if them is at work in that office now.”

“Oh gosh. What do you want to do?

“Can we seal off the building?”

“Well we could, but it will certainly attract attention.”

“The thing is, even if we activate all those people now, we’ll still have a few hours, maybe half a day before the contagiousness fades, during which time they can go out and pass it on…”

“You’re right. But if we do lock it down, we’ll need to involve lots of security officers. The shit’s going to hit the fan. What do we say? Radiation leak again? From where? If we switch off the doors, we’ll have to explain it: it’ll be noticed, people will try to get out. If that gets connected to what happened at the student housing tower, I will have to explain why I didn’t report that upwards. I’m already in a lot of trouble over the outbreak at the lab, last weekend. My boss is putting a lot of pressure on your faculty to explain what on Earth they’re doing in there that created this situation, and the fact that they don’t really seem to know isn’t coming across well.”

“I know, Stewart, but what’s the option? I can’t think of anything else we could do other than blast the building, and try to keep everyone inside it while they cool off.”

“Well no, if we’re honest nor can I, but I’m not looking forwards to the fallout. Do you know how many people we’re talking about?”

“No. I’m on the way over, so I haven’t scanned the building yet – “

“I mean is it the whole building, or just his office, or what? There are hundreds of people who work in that building.”

“Believe me, that’s the first thing I’ll try to find out when I get there. He says he’s hiding in the disabled toilet, it just depends how many people he was close enough to before we called him. Thank God he drives to work.”

“I’ve got that building up on the swipe system now. Assuming everyone swiped in, there are two hundred and sixty-nine people inside the building now.” The old guard sighed. “OK, I’ll do it. I’ve switched off the swipe locks and as many of the doors as I can. Of course if someone hits the fire alarm, everything opens.”

“I know. And can you send some guards to stop people?”

“Well, I’ll have to. What story do we use? I mean should we put a message across the tannoy in there?”

“I don’t think so. Just… hold off until I’ve done a prelim sweep. And make sure your guards know to let me in.”

* * *

The thought occurred to Markus that if all of the main group of subjects were becoming live again, that maybe, also, the student tower might potentially follow the same route. This, he reasoned, would be catastrophic. There would simply be no way of controlling that number of people – no way of tracking who had left the building, and where they had gone, who they had met. If that building was live, too, then everything else was for nothing. He turned the car around and headed in that direction.

* * *

Tim knew the general shape of what had gone on in the lab. And he’d seen through the security cameras, what had happened in the student housing tower. And he enjoyed sex, which in his case was exclusively conducted with his wife. He too, like Dave, had been conscious of the joys of working in an environment where there were many attractive women. He wouldn’t have been human if he hadn’t given some thought, in his own time, and always in abstract, to the thought of fucking students. So the idea that he might also become infected, and the effects this might have, didn’t feel like making the ultimate sacrifice.

So it wasn’t out-and-out fear he felt as he was approaching the University’s admin building. A little trepidation, for sure, but mixed with a healthy dose of nervous excitement, and, he had to admit to himself, arousal. Distracted as he was, then, by the time he reached the Physics building, he went straight to the storeroom where the portable emitter sat on its trolley, and dragged it out of the building. Half-running, he wheeled it through the campus, bumping across the various kerbs and textured pavements leading to the administration building, and having to stop a couple of times when one part or other of the ungainly contraption made a bid for freedom.

Now: he asked himself, as he manhandled it all across University Square, Is this situation the same as the student tower?

There had been two carriers, who were affected through physical contact, albeit brief, with Jenny, who had then gone back to the tower. They had seemingly transmitted it throughout the tower, through mere proximity; it had travelled down the floors, and was rife throughout the building when he and Markus had arrived. Nevertheless, they had not been affected.

So, he thought, Presumably there is a threshold for transmission, and the degree of the subject’s condition and the closeness and duration of the contact determine whether this is met.

He and Markus hadn’t got closer than outside the doorways of the apartments where the subjects had been. They hadn’t ridden in a lift with anyone. And they’d been that close for minutes at most. The two guys had only been exposed to Jenny for seconds, but they had both been kissed by her on the mouth, passionately, immediately after she had been activated – activated twice, in fact. And she had had this mega-powerful condition; she and Dave being the only people to have been injected with the serum, rather than just catching it through exposure.

So by comparison, Matt, after the long weekend at the lab, and a week living with Sarah, must have a much stronger condition than those two guys had had. The question was to what extent it had reactivated; to what extent it had then spread, and to what extent those secondary carriers had in turn started to pass on the condition.

There was a security officer in place when he reached the door; she had obviously been briefed, and when he introduced himself, she waved him through, and, as Stewart had advised, his swipe still worked on the lock. He turned back to the guard.

“This is off for everyone else, right?”

“That’s right,” she said. “Even mine won’t work on it.”

“OK, cool.”

The meter in his hand read the guard as clean. He turned it on the building: initially he saw nothing, but on a second pass he stated to pick up a faint, diffused red. Waving the meter around he figured that it was centred maybe a few floors up. OK he thought, Here we go., He swiped the door again, and entered, dragging the trolley through the doors after him. The woman at reception didn’t meter, either. Tim caught himself thinking: Fine. She’s not my type anyway. She was in her fifties, probably, and, well, matronly.

By virtue of the fact that he had been able to enter the building, she guessed that he might know something. “What’s going on?”

“It’s, um,” Tim bumbled, “What did security tell you?”

“They said that the building had to be sealed for security reasons, but not to worry.”

“That sounds about right to me,” Tim said.

“But what – “ the receptionist started, and then stopped, and tried again: “Is it a terrorist situation? Are we in danger?”

“You’re not in any danger. It’s not a terrorist situation. Um… somebody who has been involved with a, um,” he struggled, “An experiment into a new medical treatment has come into work earlier than they should have, and we need to make sure that it was safe for them to do so.”

“Oh… OK,” said the woman, unconvinced. “So what – “

“Look,” Tim interrupted her, “Where’s the Finance office? The sooner I get this dealt with, the sooner we can all go home.”

“Oh. Right. Third floor,” she told him.

He got the trolley into the elevator. As it rode up, the meter started picking up some dots, which grew in intensity and number. Red ones. The lift was taking him right into the middle of the field. He and Markus had been fine in the student tower, admittedly, but for reassurance, he turned the meter on himself.

Nothing. OK. Fine.

He had to… he had to make sure he got everyone who had been contaminated. He turned the emitter up to full.

He was going right into the middle of it. Too late, it occurred to him that when they’d been to the student housing building, he and Markus had worn radiation suits. And now, he was about to go right into the heart of a contamination zone, effectively naked. Still: nothing for it now.

The anticipation of what he was about to do to himself, to experience, was already turning him on.

He arrived on the third floor. The lift opened, and he dragged the emitter out into the a lobby at one end of a large, open plan office. People in smart casual dress, and the odd shirt, moved about, chatting to each other, carrying files or cups of tea. Right in front of the lifts, and in front of Tim, was a little vestibule with a water fountain. A couple were chatting, a guy and a woman probably in their thirties. Tim noticed that her hand was on his arm: a hand whose ring finger bore a wedding band.

The flirtation was obvious in their body language. Panicked, he pulled up the meter. They were both throbbing red. Not as strongly as some of the other subjects he’d scanned, but much, much closer to him. In alarm, in haste and without thinking, he jabbed the button on the emitter. As their dots pulsed and turned to green, he felt a wave of energy pass through him, followed by a wave of arousal. He felt his cock swelling inside his pants. He turned the meter on himself. There it was: a faint but steady green dot.

The emitter had had an effect like a bomb going off. The couple in front of him were suddenly ripping each other’s clothes off. Tim sympathised, took a step towards them, and then recollected himself. Other people in the office seemed to be affected, too. Everywhere he looked, people were looking around themselves, displaying signs of arousal and an urgent desire.

An arm snaked around him, and slid down, towards his crotch. A young woman, in her late twenties, maybe, had attached herself to him. Unaware that his free hand had instinctively gravitated towards her butt, with his other, he raised the scanner again: everything nearby was green, but in the distance, further into the office, he could make out some red dots.

With heroic self-control, he shrugged off the girl, her questing hand shaken loose from his trousers, and lurched along the aisle between the cubicles, yanking the emitter behind him. He had to barge people out of the way to get past, some kissing, some well into what could be described as heavy petting. As he penetrated further into the office, some of the red dots started moving, gravitating towards green dots, of which he, he realised, was one. Looking up from the scanner, he saw the real-life interactions to which the dots related: a stout functionary who was in both in a suit and his 50s, being mauled by a young woman who had to be an intern. Three men clustering around a woman, literally tearing her clothes off, attacking her like a pack of animals. Countless couples rolling on the floor.

He wanted to get to the centre of the remaining red dots, but as he worked his way deeper, the people nearby were drawn towards him all the more. He reached a point where he could go no further, the arms around him holding him back, while other hands unzipped his fly, and a mouth landed on his shoulder, kissing and biting his neck, a second or two before one engulfed his cock.

He became separated from the emitter. Desperately he grasped towards it, even as his genitals responded to the attention they were receiving: it was essential that he fired it just once more. If he failed, he knew, the result would be an uncontrollable outbreak leaking out across the city. But he couldn’t force his way through the crowd.

His arms were grabbed: two women held him spread-eagled, each one clutching a hand to her chest. The woman sucking his cock stepped back, stood upright, and pulled down her skirt and underwear.

At this moment, behind her, a door burst open, and Matt emerged like some great beast from its cave, in this case a disabled toilet. Tim had never met Sarah’s husband, but he immediately knew who this was. The look of pure lust in his eyes, and the way the other people around reacted to him – immediately switching focus from Tim – told him this. He could almost see the taut, stretched wires of self-denial straining and snapping one by one in the man.

He used this distraction to lunge for the emitter, grabbing a hold of the trolley and pulling it back towards him, grasping for the trigger, and slamming his hand down on top of it.

Another burst of sensation flooded through him as the machine fired. The last coherent thought to pass through his mind was one of hope, before he lost himself in a world of fucking.

* * *

There was no doubt about it: it was definitely wearing off. For the first couple of days, Lina, Greg, Colin and Paul had fucked quite joyfully. In particular Lina, of course; the Chinese girl, being somewhat outnumbered, had been more or less continuously occupied. The body changes had been nice, too. Her boobs had blossomed, her waist dwindled, and her hips and ass flared out into a glorious peachlike shape. It would be inaccurate to omit mention of how her southern orifices had increased in depth and elasticity, whilst both becoming tight to the extent that it would now be impossible to remove a penis from her that she didn’t want removed without suffering serious injury. Probably. Nobody had tried, or indeed wanted to.

Colin had experienced the least significant physical changes of the four of them, and those mainly in the cock department. The rest of his body had already been very fit: he trained regularly with the university athletics club. His event was the sprint, and when he went to this week’s training session on Tuesday, he recorded personal bests in everything he tried, and this with the added encumbrance of the obscene schlong he now had rolling around in his shorts as he ran. He found the circuit training a breeze, too—apart, obviously, from when he’d found himself tenting spectacularly in the presence of his lycra-clad female colleagues. He had not been the only one to notice that: several of the aforementioned colleagues had had to take a much closer look thereafter. His organ had been impressive before. Now it was freakishly large, yet, despite its extraordinary size, the three young sportswomen he had pleasured at various points during and after the session had all managed to consume the full serving of it, although, granted, they had all felt like they were being ripped in half, and each one had, in the end, passed unconscious after a long string of mind-breaking orgasms. Since he was basically a considerate guy, he’d tried to make sure they were in safe places where they were unlikely to be discovered, with what remained of their clothes nearby.

The first time it had happened, it had been towards the start of the three-hour session. He’d gone to the toilet, met a young lady on the way back, and she’d struck up a conversation. One thing led to another and, eventually, after placing her in the recovery position, he’d returned to training. She followed, a bit later, wobbling a little, as they were approaching the half-way break; and during the break, he’d seen her giggling with her friends, and he was sure he’d spotted a gesture that looked like she was saying to her friends, this big, after which he had noticed occasional glances from the rest of them, followed by laughter.

Sure enough one of these girls had happened to go down with an ankle injury right beside him, not long after the break, and had needed him to help her to the changing room, with inevitable consequences. Still, he had thought, as he had gazed down at her, conked out on a bench covered in spunk, her ankle seems better.

The third had been another one of the same group, who, it turned out, lived not far from him and had needed a lift home. He’d been able to leave her in her own bed.

Paul, by contrast, had undergone a significant change. He had been fat, before, even by the standards of fat men, but it seemed as though, over the course of the three days, all the fat had transformed directly into muscle, and he now had the kind of physique that rugby backs or heavyweight boxers dedicated their lives to attaining. It was extraordinary. Massive block of lard to brick shithouse. Since going out wasn’t really his thing, the only person to have experienced the benefit of this transformation was Lina, but they had both really enjoyed that: it was, Greg and Colin had agreed, as if they were discovering a love they had for each other. Kind of sweet.

Greg’s transformation was less obvious, but still profound. His whole demeanour had changed. Physically, he’d basically filled out. He’d been tall, skinny, and gangly before. Now, he looked… right. He had always had a kind of awkward body; now it hung together really well. He still had the same basic body type – tall and slim – but now he was lithe rather than skinny, his frame wrapped in an attractive sheen of muscle. When he’d gone out into the world, he’d noticed that he was noticed much more than before. He had even pulled – or been pulled – in the supermarket when he went out for groceries.

Lina had been fucked sporadically all through her cleaning shifts. She had playfully flirted with the guys she had encountered, had allowed them to think that they were seducing her, and indeed, that each of them was the only one. Her boss had had a go, too, more than once. All in all, much more fun than actual cleaning.

And then in the evenings, when they all got back to the house – Lina had abandoned her dorm room and stayed with the guys all week – they’d fucked frenetically. During waking hours, in the house, she rarely had less than one cock inside her, and often more. She’d enjoyed allowing herself to become almost an amenity. The guys would just fuck her when they felt like it (which was most of the time), bending her over and throwing their cocks into her. Whoever she’d fallen asleep with, during the nights, she would wake up from time to time with someone banging away inside her, before drifting off again and finding someone else on top of her the next time she surfaced. And she’d loved it.

And yet, by the Friday, it wasn’t hitting the spot any more. She’d noticed sometime on Thursday that the guys were taking longer to come, and shortly after this realisation, she’d clocked that she was, too. By Friday it had almost dried up. In her case, that was a literal situation. Not that the guys had backed off: it was as if they couldn’t, any more than she could. They just used more lube. Until it ran out. While Colin was out resupplying, around mid-morning, Greg had phoned Rob, who had told him that the same thing seemed to be going on with himself and Vicky. Dave and Jenny were still going strong, but even they had started to feel cravings, Rob had said.

When Dave phoned back, and told them that they had to stay in the house, it felt like torture. They had all started to realise, initially privately, and later openly, that what they wanted was the emitter.

* * *

Dave cradled Sarah’s head. He wanted to weep: what had he created? What had he done to this woman, who had been his friend for a decade?

Jenny clucked away about the emitter, about where it must be, about the danger Andrew could pose if he used it unscrupulously; all Dave could feel was guilt. So when Sarah’s eyes flickered and then opened, the relief shot through him, viscerally.

He murmured, “Sarah?”

She didn’t respond verbally, but after a moment, her eyes met his.

He repeated, “Sarah?”

Her mouth opened, and she managed to say, “I – “

He waited.

She said, “I – I – He – “, before breaking down again.

He was stroking her hair. He hadn’t noticed starting doing this. “Are you – are you OK?”

She swallowed. “I – I want you to fuck me.”

Jenny had knelt beside her, too. She asked, before Dave could respond, “Was it Andrew?”

Sarah nodded.

“And he took the emitter?”

She said, weakly, “He must have. I – I don’t remember…”

“Do you have any idea what he’s up to with it?”

“He… he’s been using it on people. He was here… during the week…”

Dave and Jenny exchanged a glance.

“We have to get it back off him,” she said.

“We have to look after Sarah, first,” said Dave.

Jenny just maintained the eye contact. Actually, she thought, Finding Andrew should be the first priority. Of course she understood Dave’s impulse to help, and she could see the guilt in him. And she could recognise that Sarah needed help, and that there was also the issue that the rest of them would need to be reactivated. And, she knew, a large part of her desire to hunt down Andrew and recover the machine was driven by her need to use the machine on herself.

What she said was, “Let’s get her up to the lab, and cleaned up and dressed.” Then, she thought, we’ll hunt down Andrew.

* * *

The student building seemed clean, on the first pass. Markus didn’t believe it, and combed the building again, and in more detail: the second time through, he found it: two dots, faint, but flickering between green and red. No more, though.

This set all sorts of ideas going in his head: had all the other people ceased to carry the condition? Were there different tiers of contamination, depending from whom a given subject had received the condition, and their degree of affliction?

The two students who were contaminated by Jenny, he reasoned, had had a brief but close contact of with a very strong source. Unlike all the others who had been cooped up in the lab, they had then immediately left the influence of any further carriers. All the people they had then contaminated were in passing or at distance. So maybe, a mild enough degree of the condition doesn’t stick, somehow.

He wondered what would have happened, then, had they not activated all of them. Does it just grow indefinitely, or will it, too, fade until it’s no longer present? They had established that, in the short term at least, it grew stronger until activation. Certainly, Markus wasn’t aware of any instances where it had faded – he had been involved, after all, with the animal trials, and certainly, then, the condition had grown until either it was activated or the mice died.

Post activation… the mice didn’t do well, in the long run, without being reactivated; but mice are more fragile than humans, and they had all been given a solid, standardised dose. Maybe at a low enough level of initial contamination, after activation, it can fade to nothing. Huh, he thought. Interesting.

But those two guys, they were going to need to be reactivated. And the sooner, the better, given that in the unactivated state, the condition would only grow in strength. I need to get the portable emitter from Tim, he realised, Isn’t it.

* * *

Dave’s phone rang just as they were reaching the main lab. It was Markus.

“We’ll call him back,” he told Jenny, then put the phone, still ringing, back in his pocket. They got Sarah into the lab, and tried to sit her in a chair. She wasn’t having any of it: she was pawing at Dave, rubbing herself on him.

Dave shrugged at Jenny; “I’m going to have to…”

“Fuck’s sake,” Jenny shook her head. “Fine.”

At that point Jenny’s phone rang; it was Markus, again. She answered.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hallo,” said Markus, “It is Markus.”

Jenny smiled. Yes, her phone had told her that. “Hi.”

“So, I am trying to contact Professor Fearon, but he is not answering.”

“We spoke to him about half an hour ago. He was going to try to sort out the Finance office.”

“What is happening with the Finance office?”

Jenny told him, quickly, where they were up to. “So my guess is,” she finished, “He’s in the middle of activating everyone in that office.”

“Hm,” grunted the German. “This is not good. I need the emitter for the student tower, urgently.”

The portable emitter! Salvation. Jenny’s cunt flooded at the idea.

A thought occurred to Markus. “Do you know if Tim is wearing the protective clothing?”

“The what?”

“When we were going to the student tower the first time, we wore radiation suits.”

“Oh. I’m guessing… no? Firstly because of the urgency of it… and secondly, he didn’t mention it to me. Thirdly, I bet he didn’t even think of it.”

“So he is out of commission now, also, isn’t it.”

Jenny chuckled. “I guess.”

“Great. So we will need to get that thing out somehow, and I will need to transport it to the student tower somehow. I don’t have a car.”

“OK. You leave that to me. You keep trying to call Tim, or Matt.”

“OK.”

“And when you’re done with the student tower, bring it here. Straight away.

“OK.”

* * *

Stewart had watched on the security cameras as Tim Fearon entered the admin building, and decided to follow him as he made his way to the Finance office. What happened when he activated the machine was spectacular: an orgy erupted, spontaneously, right before Stewart’s eyes.

The old guard was a straightforward man; he liked his daily pair of boobs on page three of the paper every morning, but he didn’t watch porn on the internet. He’d had a couple of video tapes, back in the day, but he didn’t even have a VHS player now. He loved his wife, and had never cheated – well, other than that once – but what he’d seen on the cameras last weekend when Tim and Markus had left the student housing building had stayed in his fantasies all week. What he was watching now was much more dramatic. The way Tim had pretty much been mauled as he fought his way through the office, and then the second explosion – if this is what was at the heart of this situation, he could see why they would want to keep it quiet, at the least.

His phone rang: it was Jenny.

“I’ve just watched Tim fire the emitter. This is… I’m speechless,” he said.

“Are you… you’re not in there with him?”

“No. On the cameras. This is… is this what’s been going on all week?”

“Probably. What happened?”

“It was more like rugby than anything else. He literally had to force his way through a mass of writhing bodies.

“Do you think he got everyone?”

Stewart flicked through the cameras on that floor. “I can’t see anyone in that office with their clothes on.”

“What about the other offices? Do you think it’s spread?”

“Hang on.”

He quickly dialled up the cameras on the floor below. “Well… it looks like some people have been hit but not others. It… looks quite funny actually: there are about ten people going at it like knives in the middle of the room, and everyone else is… astonished.” He chuckled. “There’s a woman trying to pull them apart. She’s… not succeeding, she’s hardly keeping her clothes on.”

After a brief pause, Jenny said, sternly, “That’s pretty much an attempted rape. It… it is still attempted, right?”

“Just about. It’s certainly an assault. She’s not happy. She’s run away now.”

“These people aren’t going to have a clue what is going on. They are going to be… everyone is going to be seriously traumatised. This is real trouble, Stewart.”

The gravity of the scenario unfolding before his eyes started to sink in.

“There’s no way we can keep a lid on this, Jenny.”

“No. But look,” she continued, “We have a problem at the student building. There are a couple of people who have become contagious again. We need to get that emitter that’s in the Finance office over to the tower, quickly.”

“Well how? Tim can’t come out, he’s contagious now, and in any case, I don’t think he’s in any fit state for… for a while, anyway. How long does this last, anyway?”

“Well… it’ll probably be a good hour, half hour before he’s able to think clearly, to any extent, although even then it’ll only be to the extent that you sober up a bit when you’re drunk.”

“So…”

“If Markus is wearing his radiation suit, he should be fine to go in.”

“The suit doesn’t become contaminated?”

There was silence from the other end of the line. Eventually, Jenny said, “I don’t… think so. The seemed to come out of the student building last week without contaminating themselves when they took the suits off.”

“Well they’ll have decontaminated themselves, surely, if they’ve got any sense.”

“So, OK, clear a radius around the exit he’s going to come out of. He just gets into the van – oh, we need a van; can he use one of yours?”

“Uh, I guess, in the circumstances; I mean we’ll need to decontaminate the van, then, too, but given everything else that’s going on, that’s hardly a concern. What if he then contaminates other people in the student tower?”

Jenny snapped. “Look I don’t know. I don’t know exactly how this is working. This is all new. Most of the stuff that is going on now didn’t happen at all in the previous trials. All I know is we’ve got something serious going on everywhere; Those guys in the student tower might start contaminating people again at any moment, and we have to lock them down.” She paused, took a few huge breaths. “This is all my fault, I know it’s my fault but it’s out of the bottle now and I have to try to do whatever I can to put it back in. Stewart, we have to get the emitter over to the student tower as fast as we can.” And then she didn’t add, Over here. And then, I go hunting.

* * *

Dave stood, transfixed, one hand cradling Sarah’s head, the other supporting her back; the woman he had loved for a decade was anchored to him by his cock in her clenching vagina. Her arms and legs were locked around him, rolling and spasming as she worked him ever deeper inside. He stood stock still as she writhed around him, ground against him, her eyes rolled back and her eyelids fluttering.

He felt no sound other than her moans. Eventually, though, he became aware that he had been hearing another sound for some time: that of a telephone ringing. His telephone.

He listened to it ringing, for a while, as she fucked him; it rang off, then immediately rang again.

He wrapped his arms around her. He noticed, as he did this that it wasn’t only his cock that had grown. He noticed that his arms were thicker, more muscular, and his back stronger. He held her easily; carried her across the lab, still embedded in her cunt, to an office on the far side which contained a sofa. Gently, lovingly, he laid her down on this couch, his penis remaining inside her throughout, so that they arrived with her on her back, her legs and arms wrapped around him, pulling him into her; and him, above her, stroking her hair, keeping still as she worked his cock, clenching around him until he came furiously inside her, her own orgasms rolling in waves back down into him. Shuddering, he returned to Earth.

His phone was still ringing.

He took it out of his pocket, and looked at the display. It was a number he didn’t have. When he answered, the voice of Owen Williams, the Head of Faculty, barked at him down the line.

“Doctor Armstrong. I have been trying to reach Professor Gray for the last half-hour, but since I can’t get her, you will have to do. What do you know about what is going on in the Administration building?”

Dave heard the unmistakeable sound of the shit hitting the fan. He tried to pull his cock out of Sarah, but she gripped him tighter.

“There seems to have been another outbreak of the condition,” Dave answered.

“I see. Do you have it contained?”

“I… think so.”

“You think so.”

“We got security to lock down that building as soon as we realised that there was somebody contagious inside it, and we’ve got someone inside the building finding out what the situation is.”

“Tell me exactly how this happened.”

Dave paused for a second, shook his head and took a breath; then told him: “We discovered this morning that all of the affected subjects were becoming contagious again. As soon as we found out, we contacted everyone and told them to remain in their homes. However, one subject had already gone into work. He drove in, and didn’t come into contact with anyone until he was in his office. So we assumed that everyone in that building was at risk of contamination, and asked security to lock it down.”

“That building is the main administration building of the University. There are hundreds of people who work in there, and they interact with everyone who works or studies here. Everyone all across the University now knows that something serious is happening here. Now. I need to know what story we are telling the press, and I need it to come from Professor Gray.”

“She is...” He looked down at her, still humping on his cock. “She won’t be able to talk to you for a little while.”

Sarah’s eyes opened, met his.

“In that case, Dr. Armstrong,” snapped the Head of Faculty, “It will have to be you.”

Dave thought for a moment. Smoothly, now that he needed it, his brain clicked into gear. “Well... let’s go with what you’ve already told them, with a bit more of what I’ve told you, which will be, basically, the truth.”

“I am not in the mood for riddles, Dr. Armstrong.”

“That there was a medical experiment involving ground-breaking research into a communicative condition, which, due to the cutting-edge nature of the research, produced unexpected results which might have led to a contamination. As a precautionary measure, the potentially infected area was sealed off, and we are in the process of doing some checks and procedures to make sure everything is OK.

“I see,” Williams spat back at him. “And do we tell them that this “condition”, about which you are being so coy, has essentially turned the University’s main administration building into one massive orgy?”

Oh shit, thought Dave. Gently, he withdrew his cock from Sarah, leaving her still writhing and whimpering on the couch, her hands immediately replacing his penis in her vagina.

“My wife,” the Head of Faculty was shouting at him down the phone, “My wife works in that building. That’s how I know what is going on. Not from my subordinates, or security. When she phoned me she was scared. By now she’s probably getting fucked seven ways to Sunday by the rest of the Widening Participation team. And I’m expected to face the world’s media and say that this is all fine?”

“Well would you prefer to tell them everything’s fucked, then? What do you want? I am up to my neck just trying to contain this thing, I really don’t have the capacity to do the PR for it as well.”

“This is your fuck-up, Doctor Armstrong, and now the amount of collateral damage it has caused has reached a point where somebody is going to have to face the music, and by God, in the absence of Professor Gray, you are going to. Where is Professor Gray anyway?”

By now sitting on the bed, Dave looked down into her eyes. She was close enough to hear the other end of the phone call; and she was, by now, back in the same world as Dave, comprehending what was going on around her. “She’s... unwell. She...” He was going to have to give Williams something. With his eyes, he asked Sarah: should I?

She shrugged, and nodded.

“Yes?” demanded Williams.

“She...” He paused. OK. Here goes... “One of the students present in the building last weekend, and therefore caught up in all this, has been affected in a disturbing way. After behaving quite oddly last weekend, and then unnerving another one of the affected students so much that she is now hiding from him, this student lured Professor Gray to the lab this morning, I think that he has maliciously used the treatment on her, and then basically he raped her, and then left, taking the... the machine which triggers the treatment. She is not,” he finished, “In any state to be interrogated.“

There was a pause, while Williams soaked in this information. “Well. I hope that she is alright. Dr. Armstrong, this is very serious. From what you have told me in the course of this conversation I can see that this situation is very much more complex than you – via Professor Gray – have previously revealed to me. On the one hand, I recognise – I have to hope – that you have now started to be more honest with me. On the other, I can see that you have not been until now. So we are going to deal with this immediate situation, and then, as soon as everyone is able to sit down and talk seriously, you – and, ideally, Professor Gray – are going to tell me, and the rest of the senior committee of this faculty exactly what is going on. With details. Of everything. But now, in the short term: regarding Professor Gray. What do we need to do? Have you informed the police?”

“Well, no. Owen, I’ve only just found her. I need to be looking after her right now, not on the phone to you. I don’t know whether we should go to the police. I mean we know who did it. And we know that if the police try to arrest him it will probably go badly for them. He was able to incapacitate Professor Gray, and she knew what to expect.”

“How long do you think it will be before Professor Gray will be in a state to decide whether she would like the police to be involved?”

He looked down at her, still cuddling around him. She shook her head. “Honestly,” Dave said, “I don’t know. I have no experience with this kind of situation, but I strongly suspect, nor does anyone else.”

“So if not the police, then how will you deal with this?”

“We... we are going to find him, confiscate the machine, and then, I am going to make fucking certain that he is not in a position to harm anybody else.”

Professor Willams took a moment to respond. “I hope you understand,” he said, carefully, “That I do not condone, and indeed would rather not be aware, of any actions which are illegal.”

“As I’m sure you understand,” Dave snapped back at him, “This whole situation is illegal. We are a long way beyond illegal. The way the law interacts with this situation is going to be complex. But right now it’s simple. We have to stop that bastard before he does something terrible. More terrible things.”

There was another pause, a longer one this time, and when the Head of Faculty eventually replied, his voice had a different tone to it: still hard, and sharp, but less hostile. “OK,” he said. “I am utterly furious with your incompetence and your dishonesty, both of which I feel are grounds for dismissal for gross misconduct. That is not going away. But I can also recognise the gravity of the situation, and that you are best placed to deal with it. I will tell the media more or less what you have told me, apart from the part about Professor Gray, of course. Fine. You have been dealing with this through Stewart Munro?”

“Yeah.” Dave knew that Owen Williams would know Stewart: anyone who regularly worked late into the evenings on campus would have been checked up on, or let in, or told to go home to bed, or given a lift with the other end of something, or said hello and had a joke in passing with Stewart. And he was good at his job, too.

“OK. Well, Stewart is only a couple of grades below a level where taking control of a situation like this would be legitimately within his role. So I will see if we can second him upwards or something similar, and nominate him responsible for this from a security point of view. I will brief him as to your, ahm, assessment of the situation.” There were a few more moments of silence, while cogs turned.

Williams continued, “This is going to have to involve the authorities. In fact, it will look very bad if I don’t take it to the authorities. I imagine you have probably two, three hours or so before the army turns up. If there is any way I can hold them off, or delay the process, without it being apparent that I am doing so, I will do it. You have created a hell of a job for me in trying to make this look in any way kosher to the outside world. But I’ll try, I’ll try to give you one last chance to seal Pandora’s box. But Dave – ”

This interjection brought the lecturer to attention: it was, Dave thought, the first time the head of Faculty had addressed him by his forename.

“I want you to find out where my wife is, and what has happened to her, and I want you to get her back to me in one piece. And ideally without having been fucked by everyone in her office.”

Well, thought Dave, maybe he is a human being, after all. He looked down at Sarah: her, eyes gazed back up at him, now softened with a degree of… contentment. “I’ll do whatever I can,” he said.