This story Copyright ©, 1993 by the Flying Pen. Redistribution via electronic means as well as a single hard copy is permitted, as long as 1) this message is included; 2) the text is not altered in any way, and 3) no financial gain is incurred from its redistribution.
NOTE: Since I now have means to transmit directly to the net via the anon server, feedback is extremely welcome.
WARNING: This story contains sex between (mostly) adults, and lots of “filler.” It is part of a work inspired by another author’s stories (thanks -Blackie!) The “filler” is extremely important to the story, and you will find yourself without a clue if you skip it. Should you find this and “dirty” words offensive, then please do yourself a favor and skip this article.
Tales of The Institute WC0006, Wilbur Cross
Day 4, 1344:
Dr. Ann Weston flashed her pass to the guard at the gate, and drove directly to the administration building. Institute headquarters had left her a fax at the airport on her return. They insisted that she fax them the report on JB1714, and that they needed the “official” hospitalization record without any delay. She sighed as she entered the stark cinder block building. She’d have to get a progress report on Elijah’s subject later. As she sat down at her desk, she had no idea that a massive orgy was taking place not more than a quarter-mile away.
Jose Aguilar lay in the middle of the cafeteria, curled tightly into the fetal position. His eyes were panicked, and he was gibbering nonsense. Joanne and Butch had tried to pry Jose into a position where they could have sex with him somehow. [Ms. Gordon is a very strong woman. Both women reported having been extremely angry at Mr. Aguilar for being difficult.] Despite their best efforts, his body remained curled into a near-ball, and he rocked autistically. Jeff Martin staggered around the mass copulation, drooling freely now, a deranged smile frozen in place. He was erect again, and headed for Arnold Gray, Gina Franchetti’s most recent partner. Arnold was bouncing energetically on top of her. Gina lay beneath him, looking bored, but her body reacted enthusiatically, as if it were a completely separate entity. Jeff began to walk by his ex-wife, who had been smoking with a blank look on her face. As soon as she saw him, she put her cigarette out and grabbed him as he was almost out of her reach. Her face had filled with pure, concentrated lust. Her former husband did not push her away. Jeff turned Sara around, and viciously mounted her anally. Sara’s loud grunt was the only sound she made. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and her face contorted into a display of exaggerated orgasmic pleasure.
Frustrated by Jose’s unwillingness to play, and their inability to make him cooperate, Joanne and Veronica grabbed Eli Carter. The stocky security guard wrestled him away from the slender nurse, and threw him down to the floor. She straddled him, and he was erect and inside of Veronica in less than a minute. [59.2 seconds, determined from the video record.—AW] Joanne complained briefly as she stood next to the oblivious pair, then walked over to the door, found her purse, holder and lighter, and began to have a cigarette as if nothing unusual were going on at all.
Day 4, 1358:
Phil Allen, Dr. Weston’s personal assistant, had been busy talking with headquarters all day. [You know Phil. He’s the low-level spark that acts as my “Radar O’Reilly.” Poor dear. I could imagine the fit headquarters threw at him over the records in my absence.—AW] He was hungry, and he had a massive headache. The noise coming from the cafeteria seemed really strange, but he opened the doors, and immediately went into shock. “You’re new around here,” came a female voice. Phil turned and saw Joanne. She looked at him and settled into her most seductive pose. She took a puff in her very calculated manner. Phil only gaped at the naked woman. [He’s a sweet man, but somewhat of a geek-AW]
Another shy one. Joanne decided that she, the woman of tomorrow, had to be more aggressive. She put her arms on his shoulders, and gave him a long, wet kiss. Phil gasped for breath when Joanne pulled away. She regarded him playfully; then took another of her “maximum impact” drags on her smoke. Glancing down at his front, she saw the desired effect. [It was most likely due to her state of undress, rather than the way she smoked.] Joanne calmly put her half-finished cigarette out, and pulled Phil into her embrace again. She felt him respond slowly, tenderly, without rush, and discovered that she was very wet. She just had to have him. Joanne dragged Phil away from the door, and into the thick of the fray.
Phil’s clothes came off quickly, and he kissed Joanne. She reclined, and Phil was on top of her, attempting foreplay, when she unexpectedly stopped him, and quietly said, “No, you silly man. I want you inside of me.” Her blue eyes were wantonly glowing. Phil, never one to refuse a “gorgeous, sexy, stunning red-headed lady,” [He likes her.—AW] sank himself completely into her warm honeypot. Joanne let a long, low sigh go, and wrapped her arms around the overjoyed man’s back. She arched her back to meet his downward motions, and the itch was brushed slowly, rhythmically, and completely. Phil wondered why everybody was acting this way, and he knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, he should go get help and...
Joanne’s pussy fibrillated gently around his cock, which grew a little larger inside her. Her eyes were now blue-hot, and Phil suddenly felt huge. He felt so powerful, so virile! His head bowed, and his hips began to work faster. Joanne moaned, matching his determined rhythm, and Phil felt even bigger inside of her. His up-and-down fucking became interspersed with side to side movements. Joanne’s body responded almost instaneously to any new motion. Her pussy grabbed at the cock it sheathed, geedily assuring that Phil would not leave until he had finished the task Joanne needed him for. Phil could only sense Joanne’s wonderful, warm, slick, tickling, slippery grabbing butter and the friction felt terrificandhewantedmoreofthewetsoftsilkenfasterandJoanneshemoanedandshewas touchinghimallover...
Day 4, 1453:
Dr. Weston decided it was time to get some lunch and check in on the progress of PM46X. The acknowledgment of receipt was coming out on the fax machine, and she was finally free of paperwork for now. She decided to walk, rather than take a cart to the clinic building. She needed the exercise after having been seated for so long. First, the airplane, then the drive to the compound, and finally the damned paperwork. It felt good to stretch her legs again. The first thing she noticed was that the reception area was empty. She headed directly to the cafeteria, to reprimand the receptionist and security on duty for leaving reception unstaffed. As Ann rounded the hall, she smelled the smoke and heard the odd sounds from behind the cafeteria door. She opened the cafeteria door, and was instantly paralyzed by shock and horror.
The cafeteria resembled a Roman orgy. There were people copulating on the floor, bent over tables, on top of tables. Chairs and tables had been turned over and haphazardly strewn about. The air was thick with smoke, like a low-class pub, but she could see pairs, threesomes and even a foursome through the haze. Dr. Weston was trying to make sense out of what she was seeing; for one, there were far too many people in the cafeteria. Something was horribly wrong.
Ann had turned to leave and find help when an iron grip enclosed her arm. “Come in, join the party!” said a voice in a French accent from behind her. Ann spun and saw Dr. Vivienne Moriat. Her hand was firmly locked on Ann’s upper arm, and Dr. Weston could not break free. Dr. Moriat took a drag from a cigarillo, and Ann became more frightened, especially when she realized that the researcher was naked. Vivienne exhaled, some of the smoke curling in Ann’s face. Dr. Weston sneezed loudly. “Oh, I am sorry,” Vivienne apologized, but her tenacious grip did not waver.
“What’s happened?!!!?? Why are you smoking—cigars??? You don’t smoke, Dr. Moriat!” Ann’s voice was anything but calm, mirroring her inner feelings.
Dr. Vivienne Moriat looked at her with surprise. “To answer your first question, we are obviously having a party,” she replied, annoyance in her voice. [Snotty even when possessed.—AW] “As for the second question,” she continued, pausing to take another drag, “I smoke cigars because I am a modern emancipated woman, able to be one of the boys.” Vivienne paused again, looking quizzically at Dr. Weston. “But everybody who is anybody smokes.” The former ardent anti-smoker sounded pleased by this pronouncement, and panic was beginning to saturate Ann’s thoughts.
“What about the device? Your output amplifier, the project, PM46X?” Ann was trying to wrench her arm free, and had hoped to distract the obviously possessed woman enough to break loose. Dr. Moriat calmly answered Ann with a question that chilled Dr. Weston to the marrow, erasing her panic.
“What device?” She began to tug at Ann. Vivienne was surprisingly strong, able to drag Dr. Weston away from the cafeteria door by the arm despite Ann’s resistance. “You are not having fun,” Vivienne stated accurately, and pouting a little. “I will—" Dr. Moriat took another draw on her cigarillo. “—help you.” She looked around the cafeteria as if she was searching for something. Disappointment crossed her face. “Oh well,” she said, taking one last drag before dropping her cigarillo in a bowl that was filled with butts, “if I must, I must...” Vivienne abruptly let go of Ann’s arm and began to kneel in front of her. Dr. Weston didn’t hesitate, turning and running blindly for the door. She bumped into someone and bounced off. She blinked and saw that it was Dr. Elijah Carter, naked, his erect penis pointing straight at her. He grinned lecherously at her and stretched out his arms. She bolted past him, not daring to look or stop. Dr. Carter grabbed at the fabric of her chemise, but the material was too slick for him to hold on. Ann shot through the cafeteria doors, and headed for the projector control center at top speed.
The room was unlocked and deserted. Dr. Weston frantically sealed the door, worried that she had been followed. She hadn’t been; everybody else in the building was far too busy having sex. [This includes JB1714. Although he could not find the elevator to join the orgy, he found his own penis without any trouble. Evidence indicated that he had been masturbating.] [Constantly during the incident. We had to pay a nurse triple overtime to clean him up afterwards.—AW] The first thing she became aware of as she paused to catch her breath was the alarm. She had been too panicked to even notice the shrill beeping. She looked and saw that the output amplifier was operating at 204% of design capacity! Her amazement grew as the number on the computer readout changed to 205. Dr. Weston tapped the original setting of 12.5 into the control console and pressed enter. The digital readout changed again. 207. She tried to repeat the command, and breathed a sigh of relief when the display didn’t change immediately. A few seconds passed, then... 210. She typed the terminate sequence into the console, and nothing happened. Dr. Weston had thought that she might have used an incorrect command. She swiveled her chair around, looking for the codebook, and her attention was immediately captured by the video uplink display.
Her mouth fell open as she watched an orgy of Roman proportions unfolding on the screen. It was also immediately apparent that it was not a security camera’s view of the clinic cafeteria; the furnishings and shucked clothing were very different. Dr. Weston watched, fascinated by the incredibly clear, sharp view of couples, threesomes... She looked closely, a hunch playing at her mind. Yes! There it was! Exactly one foursome. There was a young brown-haired woman standing by a door smoking... a cigar! It was then that Ann realized what had to be done. She took one last look at the digital display, which now read 215. She left the console and walked outside the room. Pulling out a thin, red plastic card, she ran its magnetic strip through the slot next to the door. A panel in the wall opened, revealing a numeric keypad. Ann calmly punched the six-digit power shut-off code, and the control room went dark.
Day 4, 1509:
Two alarms sounded on the third floor: one at the deserted nurses’ station, and one in the lone occupied room on the floor. Wilbur Cross died at age 78.
PROJECT SUMMARY
After careful, thorough consultation with Dr. Carter, I strongly recommend without hesitation that the final disposition of the project should be “FAILED”. The interaction between the subject and Dr. Moriat’s device has been labeled a “feedback loop.” No cause has been determined for this phenomenon. The evidence available is insufficient for further study. There are still many unanswered questions about the phenomenon: what caused it to occur; how it functioned, and the extent of the subject’s active involvement. Mr. Cross’ vital signs were those of a healthy 22-year old man at the time of his death. Did the device cause him to improve, or did his improvement spur the device to start the spiral? Did he connect somehow with the device and use it? These are all excellent questions. However, given the scope of the adverse events, their severity, and the permanence of those effects on some of the personnel involved, the entire device has been destroyed, and no further research into the feedback loop will take place. It is our opinion that another test would result in another, possibly greater, disaster. As a personal aside, bear in mind that the subject was frail, with greatly diminished brain function; I shudder to think of the events had we used a healthy, fully functional subject.
Drs. Carter and Moriat will not reapply for further funding of the project; they are in agreement that the danger of adverse effects is too high; an application for theoretical study is possible, but not in the near future. Dr. Carter’s expertise in neurology and neurosurgery makes him a valued member of the Institute’s research group; I feel confident that he will continue to be productive. As for Dr. Moriat, she may be able to apply her great store of knowledge on another collaborative effort, as a junior member of an investigative team.
While several errors were committed in the conduct of the experiment, only the improper monitoring of the project control center would have had any impact on the outcome. I would like to stress that at the height of the mishap, everyone within the clinic building was affected, save for myself. My immunity is also an unsolved puzzle, but it is fortunate that I was. It is probably accurate to extrapolate the spread of the effect to beyond the clinic confines if I had not shut the power off. I do not know how much longer the local utility could have supplied sufficient power before it started to cause problems with the whole service area. At some point, the power drain would have exceeded transmission capacity, causing shut down, but we have no idea when that would have been.
Personnel Post Mortem Report
It has been four months since the incident. Since the full report took that long to assemble, I am enclosing the personnel update with the report, instead of under separate cover. This section indicates the status of principles changed by the incident. The cafeteria staff, as well as most security, and most clinic staff seem to have no memory of the incident. After the power was shut off, they seem to have dressed and returned to their respective jobs, unaware that anything abnormal had happened. As you can imagine, the gap in their lives has been called into question, and we have enlisted the aid of two sparks from debriefing center #4 in reprogramming, which has been mostly successful. This is for your eyes only.
Jose Aguilar: ON FULL MEDICAL LEAVE
He is undergoing intense therapy for autism at debriefing center #1. His neurological pathways show considerable modification. Earlier this week, I received a report that Mr. Aguilar is no longer in the fetal position that he had maintained since the incident, so this does represent major progress. However, he still has not spoken since the incident. Reprogramming has not been attempted due to the possibility of the spark also becoming autistic.
Phil Allen: ACTIVE
Radar is just fine, as efficient as ever. His pathways show no change whatsoever. The initial attempt at reprogramming has failed, most likely due to his special nature. I have put a moratorium on any further attempts, and refuse to employ more powerful sparks because it may damage him. Frankly, he is far too valuable an aide to me to risk impairing his skill in any way. He still fawns over Miss Weber. I have submitted a request for a significant salary increase for Mr. Allen, which I suspect he’ll be needing soon.
Danny Bolton: TERMINATED; DECEASED
After his termination from the Institiute, Mr. Bolton committed suicide approximately one month after the incident. His suicide note indicated that he was unwilling to live without Miss Franchetti.
Dr. Elijah Carter: ACTIVE
He shows no ill effects from his involvement, save for a rather acrimonious divorce. He is scheduled to marry Sara Martin in November. He has had no strange sexual urges, and no major changes have been scanned in the neurological pathways of his brain.
Gina Franchetti: TRANSFERRED
Miss Franchetti shows significant pathway modification, along with a secondary change in her glandular function. No one else involved in the incident shows anything like it. We assume that this was the cause of the greatly raised pheromone level reported earlier. She had to be quarantined for two weeks following the incident until that level dropped. She had continued her sexual activity well beyond device shutdown, and had no shortage of willing partners. Her pheromone level caused arousal among both genders. Until we equipped security with filter masks, we could not get her to quarantine, since anyone who got close to her would immediately try to have sex with her. She was also extremely willing; her sex drive seemed to have increased considerably.
Although her pheromone level dropped to normal ranges, her sex drive has shown no signs of returning to normal, even after reprogramming. The incident has been erased from her memory, but all attempts to decrease her sex drive have failed. She turned to prostitution when released. We promptly re-hired her, and have transferred her to the Netherlands to service security.
Veronica (Butch) Gordon: ON PERSONAL LEAVE
Her pathways show no modification. However, after what appeared to be successful reprogramming, she has reported two incidences of flashback. Re-treatment was done each time, however, Ms. Gordon has decided to take holiday leave for a while.
Dr. Jeffery Martin: DEMOTED / EXPENDABLE
His is the most problematic case. Due to his past record, we have received inquiries from various authorities concerning his employ with us. His official position has been altered to non-technical general personnel, to avoid the appearance that he served in a medical capacity with us. As I noted earlier in the report, the Human Resources personnel responsible for checking of credentials have been terminated.
The former Dr. Martin’s neural pathways show extensive modification. He suffers from priapism and satyriasis, and we have had him under restraint since the incident. He is completely dysfunctional, addicted to sex in the extreme. If left unrestrained, he will attempt to have sex with the nearest human being. His capacity for rational thought and conversation are severely impaired. We have sent him to training center #2, in the hopes that one of our newer recruits can help him while she hones her debriefing skills. If she succeeds, we will enlist Mr. Martin’s services in a non-medical capacity at the training center. Under no circumstances is he to return here for employment, or any other reason.
Sara Martin, R.N.: RESIGNED
She shows minor changes in her neurological pathways. These changes seem to be temporary in nature, as they have slowly been returning to their state at the start of the project. Scheduled to marry Dr. Carter in November, she has resigned from the staff here, and taken a position at a rural clinic nearby. Reprogramming to excise the incident from her memory has been successful.
Dr. Vivienne Moriat: INACTIVE
Unlike her collaborator, she is considerably worse for the experience. In addition to the quite severe enteric infection she manifested shortly after the incident, she also has been diagnosed as having gonorrhea. We have found the kitchen worker responsible, and they are both undergoing treatment. While it could have been worse, it appears that he was the last person to have sex with her immediately prior to the termination of the experiment.
Her neural paths show significant change. She is now a chain smoker of cigarettes; she reports that she gets an extremely powerful urge for, and must have, a cigar every now and then. Conventional nicotine therapy has been ineffective. We are awaiting the training of a spark for fine behavioral alteration, since gross changes can lead to long-term damage. She is considerably more humble than she used to be, so not all of the changes are negative. Reprogramming is not necessary, since we have the video tapes. She is worried about blackmail, and her career. However, both she and I have expressed doubts about her ever regaining her former genius.
Joanne Weber: TRANSFER PENDING; ON MATERNITY LEAVE
Miss Weber is pregnant with Daniel Bolton’s child. The results of the DNA test did not arrive until last week, as a conventional paternity test only eliminated some of the possibilities. Her neural pathways show extensive alteration. She is still somewhat hostage to her “Roaring Twenties” persona. She still smokes the brown cigarettes (no other brand will suffice), and always uses one of an array of cigarette holders that she has acquired since the incident. As with Dr. Moriat, conventional nicotine therapy has failed.
All attempts at reprogramming have failed with Miss Weber. We suspect that the integration of her other self interferes with the process. She has had flashbacks where she has lapsed completely into her other persona. Interestingly, Phil seems to be the only person who can help bring her back from these episodes.
Joanne has expressed a desire to leave the medical field. I have requested that she be transferred to administration here. Of course, her knowledge precludes her leaving the this site of the Institute, but I am going on record as being strongly opposed to the alternative.
Dr. Ann Weston: ACTIVE
My scans show no modifications, and I am still puzzled by my immunity to the feedback loop’s effects. It would bode well for research in general if there were some justification for my immunity, and might allow for further attempts at a similar device. I returned to work immediately following device shutdown, and have no perception of any effects at all from my exposure.
A handwritten note attached to the memo read:
Despite this setback and the resulting aftermath, I will be attending the R&D meetings next month. Look forward to seeing you as always.
Love,AnnP.S. Be a dear, and pick up two boxes of Nat Sherman’s Beekman’s and send them to me. I seem to have grown fond of them, and it’s bloody hard to find a good cigar out here.