Chapter 3

I had managed to film most of my turning Beth in the sleep research center, and all Clara's friends, thanks to the lipstick cameras I mounted throughout my basement. Now my question was, what am I to do with this information?

The only other person who knew what was going on was Beth. So I invited her over to my house for a night of hot sex.

As we both laid gasping on my bed, after have a wonderful sixty-nine session, I told her about my latest research.

"You really turned all the popular girls?" she asked.

"At this small high school, yes."

"Wish I could have been there."

"I have it on video." I turned on my bedroom TV and showed her the whole episode.

As she watched, she fingered herself to several orgasms.

When we had finished, I asked Beth, "Do you have a problem with high school girls?"

"Only the popular ones; when I was young, they took great delight in tormenting me. I am glad that at least these girls are outcasts as well."

I decided to breach my main question. "So, now we know that TBP can also be used as the world's greatest date rape drug. One that makes the victim feel that everything he or she does is consensual, maybe even their idea. This is not exactly something we can use as selling points in ads."

Beth pondered. "You're right. But I feel there is something we have missed. We need more people in on this."

"Who would you recommend, that wouldn't report me to the police?"

"How about Dr. Moore?"

"The boss?" I asked.

I thought about it, and it made sense. The last thing he would want is for me to get in trouble. Any black mark against me would be a black mark against the company.

The next day, I arranged to meet with Martin. He must not have been too busy, as I got to meet him later that same day.

I decided to dive in and tell him about my research, since I last talked to him.

I don't think he knew I was gay. It's not in my job file. But he didn't seem surprised. I don't think I'm obvious about my sexuality. Maybe he has a strong gay-dar.

He congratulated me on finding a second use for Tribopine. I believe he used the words, "good detective work." But when I told him about me seducing Beth, he seemed a bit queasy. I didn't go into detail, but told him how my co-worker, who was a devout Mormon, fell for me, thinking it was her idea.

"I have a video, if you want proof," I said.

He held up his hand. "That's quite all right. I believe you."

I decided not to go into the whole thing with my niece and her friends. "So, now we know that TBP lowers inhibitions. But what good does that do? We can't exactly sell it as the ultimate party drug."

Dr. Moore stood up. "I have a few ideas. But I need to make a few phone calls. I'll get in touch with you when I find out if my idea will work."

I guess that was all I could get out of him, for now. So I stood up, thanked him, and left his office.

I didn't hear from him the rest of the day.

It was around six thirty pm that night, when my doorbell rang. All the girls had gone home several hours ago, and it was just me and Beth watching some sit-com.

I froze the show on my DVR and went upstairs.

At the door was a woman I had never seen before. She looked to be in her mid-thirties. She had a swarthy complexion that made her look like she was of Mediterranean ancestry. She had a long nose and dark hair pulled back into a bun. She reminded me vaguely of a young Angelica Houston.

She was wearing a dark business suit.

"I am Agent Patricia Finn, CIA. I am here at the request of my superior, who is a friend of your boss, Martin Moore."

A bell went off in my head. Who else could use a drug that lowers inhibitions, than the CIA?

"Of course," I said. "Won't you come in?"

I escorted her downstairs, and introduced the agent to Beth.

"How does our boss know your boss?" asked my girlfriend.

"Evidently they grew up together. They attended the same college. Their areas of study took very different paths."

"Obviously," I said.

"What do you know, so far?" asked Beth.

"Just what your boss has said. We want to hear it all from you, and make sure what we've been told matches what you say."

I nodded. "There are some things I didn't tell my boss, that you need to know."

She turned my computer, and I started in on my story of TBP's development, I simplified the terms, so she was not confused. She started asking questions that indicated that she had more than a passing knowledge of chemistry. Her boss had chosen well.

When I turned from the problems with the economics of the drug to my seducing Beth, something in the agent's demeanor changed. It was hard to put my finger on it, but her whole body language changed.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

She cleared her throat. "I guess you should know. I find lesbians, all homosexuals actually, disgusting. But I will put that aside and try to hear your story as dispassionately as possible."

Beth grabbed Patricia hand. "I felt the same way you did, until Maddie kissed me. After that, everything changed."

The interviewer looked at me. "Is it really that strong?"

I nodded, and proceeded to tell her about my spiking Beth's drink and the make out session in the shower that followed.

I pulled out the memory stick that held all the footage from the sleep lab. "And here is the end result."

The agent watched the footage with a mixture of fascination and horror. "Are you really going to ... Oh God!"

When we had finally finished, I stopped the recording, and proceeded to tell her about my niece and her friends.

I was about to tap the keyboard on my laptop, to show her that session too. Patricia stopped me. "Wait! Before you start, dose me."

Both Beth and I were shocked. "What? Are you serious."

She nodded. "In order to give an accurate report of its effectiveness, I need to give an honest account of its effects. And the only way I can think of doing that is to try it myself."

I produced a TBP tablet and a glass of water, which she promptly swallowed. Patricia set the alarm on her smartphone for a half hour.

We all sat and watched the antics of the high school girls.

When the alarm went off, the agent paused the video. "I don't feel any different," she muttered to herself.

I pointed the frozen image on the screen. "What do you think about these girls?"

Patricia paused. "They certainly look like ... they're having a good time."