Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Mind Control, Slow,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Chemist gets fired after making a breakthrough in chemical messaging and moves on with his life. His rediscovery leads him on a wild ride that ends up in true love.
It worked. John lifted the small vial filled with a clear syrup to the overhead lamp and looked at it. After only two years of research he had been able to accomplish what everyone else had considered impossible. Just then the stainless steel double doors to his lab burst open and a troupe of security guards and the Vice-President to GenenCorp charged in. Not knowing why, John quickly shoved the stoppered tube in his pants pocket and went to greet his boss. "Hello, Mr. Evans. What's going on with the guards?"
"Simple, Mr. Edwards. You're being fired. We have put thousands of dollars into your research over the past year without an inch of progress to show for it. All you have given us were speculative notes on how to create a chemical to make people more susceptible to suggestion and more readily absorb commercials and other forms of mass media."
John had just finished the compound, MC-125, but he never entered its progress in his notes. The stuff was potentially very dangerous in the wrong hands. The formula he created went beyond simply making people more susceptible to commands; it controlled them outright. As a safety precaution he removed several of the key ingredients in it, various salts, and placed it in another vial, the one in his pocket right now. Without those salts, MC-125 did exactly what the company wanted it to.
"Sir, we found barrels labeled MC-125," one of the guards called out.
"Good," Evans said. "Deliver that to Section 28 storage. Well, Mr. Edwards it looks like you have been keeping a few things from us. Your contract of work is hereby terminated. We will give you two months salary as your severance pay to help send you on your way. Have a good day."
And as suddenly as they came into his lab, they left. John wasn't too upset by losing his job. There was a high demand for biochemists at the time and he could probably find another company to pick him up. Besides, working under Michael Evans was getting to be a real pain in the ass. Evans' victory wasn't complete either. The VP forgot about the stock options that went along with his work contract, those were John's to keep. And if he guessed right, then GenenCorp's stock was going to rise once they find out that his MC-125 did work. Most likely they were going to sell it to various food producers with already a large advertising base, chips and soda for one, and make a fortune on it. By firing John, they just slighted him the royalties. John shrugged his shoulders and packed up his things and left.
A year later John was busily cleaning up his apartment when he happened along a vial with thick, clear liquid. The key to MC-125 lay in the palm of his hand. Turns out GenenCorp did sell the chemical he created and their stock skyrocketed. Everyone thought it was their release of a new cold medicine they came out with but John knew better. Almost every major brand of food, soda and chips and alcoholic beverages mostly, now had a microliter of the chemical in their food or drink and no one knew any better. Of course, for the food companies, that edge was only temporary over their competitors because they too picked up on MC-125. John did a quick search on the Internet and figured that roughly ninety-eight percent of Americans had MC-125 in their system. John looked at the vial in his hand and thought of what would happen if the wrong person could control that ninety-eight percent. He made his way to the bathroom, planning on dumping the stuff in the toilet and stopped himself. No, can't do that. Eventually some of it would get into the drinking water supply and then random people will have unlocked MC-125. Only one proper way to destroy it. So he drank it. He poured the thick, salty mixture down his throat and grimaced at the taste. Then he filled the vial with water and drank it down six times. As soon as the salts hit his digestive system they would dissolve and be rendered harmless, he thought. There might be some side effects, possibly diarrhea but other than that he didn't think anything else would come of it. His stomach rumbled in agitation. John looked at the clock. Dinnertime. He scoped out his fridge and found nothing to his liking. He grabbed his favorite leather jacket, hopped on his motorcycle, and sped off to a nice Italian restaurant.
Alesio's was a nice Italian place that he frequented with an excellent chicken Parmesan and a fantastic wine list. Tony greeted him at the door warmly and let him through to the bar where he usually ate and chatted with the bartenders. It was a very classy place but the owner, Alesio, let him in without the long screening process they put through most of their clientele because he was such good friends with Erica, who was the owner's daughter. Erica was there as she was every Friday night, minding the bar and mixing drinks for the patrons. They were old college friends. She was an attractive girl, 5'4", dark auburn hair that billowed out in curly waves when they weren't tucked back with a ponytail, and a lean figure that spoke of hours at the gym. She flashed a smile at him that spoke of long friendship when she saw him and gave him a warm hug over the counter. "How's my favorite buddy doing? Your new job at Pharmtech working out?"
"Yeah, it's not bad," John stated plainly. "Their pay is decent and they've got good benefits. Even their cafeteria food is pretty good."
"That's good to hear," Erica said distractedly. John picked up on her absent attention.
The indecisiveness on her face was plain to see. "Phillip and I broke up."
"Whoa," was all John could say. Erica had been seeing Phillip for the past year and he was certain Erica thought she could hear the church bells chiming, she said as much. "What happened?"
"He... the bastard's been sleeping around behind my back," she spat out painfully. "He said that I didn't put out for him enough and that he found someone else for his needs. I was just a lay to him." There was no anger in her voice; only cold grief and John shook his head in dismay.
"I'm sorry to hear that," John said and tried to smile to give her some support. "You want I should buy you a drink?" The irony of the comment wasn't lost on Erica and she laughed.
"No, thank you," she dabbed her eyes with a bar napkin. "No drinking on the job. You know that."
"Well, it's all I guy can do when he meets a pretty girl at a bar." The two flirted all the time, mostly because they knew nothing would come of it. They prized their friendship too much for anything more. "Well, can I get a chicken antipasto with a glass of your house white?"
John watched the dinner crowd as he waited. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for a large, muscular man who seemed to be sitting uncomfortably at a table with another man sporting a cane stooping over his shoulder, whispering in his ear. The large man got up and John saw him gesture angrily at the man with the cane. John watched as an inch of a blade was exposed from the cane. The larger man stopped and ran back to another table, picked up a girl with a vapid expression on her face, and stormed out of the restaurant.
"Good riddance," John heard Erica say behind the bar.
"Who was that, that just left?"
"A real pain in the ass customer, Talworth I think his name was. He's a real jerk but he brings in a lot of high-end customers. Being a classy restaurant, we get our fair share of stuck up snobs but he takes the cake."
"Hmm," John shrugged and left it at that. "Hey, Erica. I was thinking... maybe you should drop by my place after work. So we can talk and stuff. It looks like you need to unload a bit."
Erica looked at him strangely for a moment and nodded her head. "You're right. I think I will drop by later tonight."
John ate quietly and just breathed in the ambiance of the restaurant. He finished his meal, left quietly, and hopped on his motorcycle. He slapped on his helmet and blazed down the streets back to his apartment.
John had almost forgotten that Erica was dropping by when he heard the doorbell ring at midnight. "Hi," John said as he gave his friend another hug. "Glad you could come. Want anything to drink?"
Erica a nodded and asked for some water. "Thanks for having me over, John. It's good to know I'll always have a friend."
"Hey, that's what they're for, right? Well, besides borrowing money when you're in a jam, that is." The two chuckled at that. "Sit down," John said, gesturing towards the couch and did so himself further down. The two talked. Erica was really heartbroken by the breakup, she thought there was more to the relationship than physical attraction but apparently that wasn't the case with Phillip. Erica sighed disconsolately and curled up into a ball. John scooted next to her and wrapped a warm arm around her shoulders. She sobbed quietly in his arms her pain now throbbing ache.
John was a little put off by himself when he felt the stirrings of arousal in his pants. Granted, Erica was a very attractive woman and the shaking of her body as she cried was doing things to him between his legs but this was hardly the time for his libido. John decided he needed to get out more and find himself a girlfriend. Still, the thought of how nice it would be to kiss her did drift across his mind. John's ruminations were interrupted by the silence and a break in the shaking on his chest.
He looked down.
Erica was staring up at him, a lost look in her eyes. She leaned up to him and kissed him gently, tenderly. Her lips were a delicious treat, soft and yielding. Her warm breath snaked down his throat and passion flared within him. Erica's kiss became more eager, reflecting his own feelings, hungering for more. Their tongues lashed out and caressed one another impatiently. John reached up and touched her face softly when the thought of what he was doing slammed to the forefront of his thoughts. He pulled away.
Erica was breathing heavily, as was he when he studied the confused and hungry look in her eyes. "Hold on a second, Erica," John said, trying to buy himself time as much to collect his thoughts as well as slow his thundering heart. "We should think this over. You just broke up with your boyfriend and you are very vulnerable right now. I like you, a lot. But I don't want to jeopardize our friendship over this."
"What do you want then?"
Right now I want to have sex with you until the sun comes up, he thought but he couldn't say that. He didn't have to because Erica leapt at him just as he finished his thought and began devouring his mouth again. John was in a sea of blissful sensations as he kissed Erica. He always had found her hair a major turn on and now stroked the silken curls. Her hot body pressed to his through their clothing and their breathing became labored snorts as their lips remained locked. He wanted to get his shirt off but Erica reached for it before he could, whisking it over his head in no time. She did likewise with her own blouse, revealing a delectable looking black bra that John couldn't help caressing. John's hands ran up and down her ribs and stroked the small of her back. His fingers traced the path up her spine to the clasp on her bra and unfastened them, setting her bountiful breasts free. Erica groaned as her breasts sprung free of their confinement and grabbed John's hands and placed them on the newly exposed flesh. Her hips ground into his at the sensation of his palms on her nipples and her kiss became more frantic and needful, matching John's own thoughts and actions.
John thought of reaching down and undoing Erica's form-fitting jeans, but again her hands beat him to it. Erica's head tilted back as John reflected on moving down to her neck and he did so with fervor at her exposed throat. Erica arched her behind a moment to pull down her pants to reveal a sultry thong matching her bra. Her fingers deftly undid John's pants, again on the whim of his thoughts, and the feeling as their pelvises collided invoked new images of lust in his mind. John's head traveled lower and began teasing her breasts with light kisses and licks. She was thrumming with sexual tension and John wanted to experience all of it. He thought about the last time he'd been in bed with a woman; far too long by his measure. He returned his thoughts to the task at hand and attacked Erica's breasts with a vengeance. She moaned in delight. She gasped in joy. She pretty much went through every single possible sound that words had been made to describe for the human vocal cords and then some. John was amazed at how verbal a lover she was and he had only reached her breasts! He suckled on her turgid nipples while his free hand caressed the other.
Their passions mounted and John was astounded at how responsive Erica was to his every thought. Her soaked thong was soon discarded and they cried out in joy as Erica mounted him. John always enjoyed it when the woman was on top. If John thought Erica's sexual vocabulary was astonishing before then he was floored now. She screamed and howled unintelligible words of lust that were sometimes sensual but mostly outright bawdy. Madly, she pounded down on him, their sexes mashed together again and again in coital ecstasy. John was not idle as he lay beneath Erica's thrashing body, his fingers tweaked and rubbed her hard nipples while his other hand reached down and rubbed her exposed clit. Her pounding increased in speed until John swore he saw smoke emanating from between Erica's legs. Finally the sensations became too much for him and his eyes rolled back into his head as he let loose several thick streams of cum. Erica let out a piercing shriek and her body seized. Her mouth gasped in a voiceless scream as the muscles in her pussy rippled. John felt a flood of liquid spill out from between her legs and then Erica's body went limp. She collapsed atop him, her breathing ragged and thin with exertion.
The sex was unbelievable. Every single sexual itch, physical or otherwise, had been scratched. Again, his mind came back to how quickly Erica responded to his every desire without him uttering a single word or gesture. It was as if she could read his mind or something...
John's eyes snapped wide open.