Chapter 5: Wednesday

The email arrived during my second period of the day – an English Lit class. It was from someone I'd never heard of before and I was just about to consign it unread to the SPAM folder when the title caught my eye – "Scientists Studying the Effects of Orally Administered Sperm on the Brains of Teenage Girls".

WTF???

Of course I clicked it open. Who wouldn't have with that title? The email consisted solely of two Internet links. I clicked the first one open. It led me to a page in what I found out later was an obscure medical research journal. It was dated five plus years earlier. It wasn't an article, instead it was simply a boxed three paragraph description of a study that three Stanford medical researchers were planning on undertaking. The lead researcher, a twenty-nine year old female PhD named Urquhart, had postulated that male sperm contained a hitherto unknown enzyme that just might spur brain development in growing teenage brains. But it only would affect female ones according to her theory.

What a load of crap I thought to myself as I read the paragraphs a second time. And I thought Stanford was supposed to be a top school!

The second link simply led me to an individual page with no title. It was a copy of a letter with the recipient's name covered by a small hasty note that had been stapled to the letter. On the top of the hasty note was printed "from the desk of dr jane urquhart".

Written on the note were the words; "hi bill, it was great to see you at the convention. here are some of the early results of the study I was telling you about. j. p.s. I already miss your hairy chest"

I knew exactly what convention this slut doctor was writing about. It was one my dad had attended in San Francisco some twenty months earlier. Oh yes I knew whose hairy chest she was talking about. Daddy's!

I quickly scanned the page of text. The first line was the conclusion: " Brain scans of the girls who were regularly dosed with healthy male sperm over a thirty month period appear to have developed a 4-6% improvement in cognitive abilities compared to an untreated base group. The positive effects were only observed in the group of females between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one. After twenty-one or two the beneficial effects tapered off quickly."

There is no way that this crap was true I thought as I read the words. The rest of the sheet simply had summary tables that listed the various results according to variables such as age, quantity of sperm administered, sperm motility, frequency of dosage, etc., etc.

But the second my brain had absorbed what the report said I knew that Nikki's hypothesis had been right. Daddy had been sperming us! And of course I knew, and understood why.

He'd met this Urquhart babe at the convention, or he'd known her from before, and sometime during their love making she'd let slip her little secret. She'd told him what she was working on and what the preliminary results had shown. Heck, maybe she'd wanted him to donate some of his sperm for research purposes.

What a dilemma that must have presented him! But in the end what other choice did he have? Sperm your daughter (and her best friend) or maybe let them be five percent less brainy than they could be. Dad would never have chanced not doing it and then finding out later that the theory was true.

Fortunately I'd copied the Internet page I'd opened to a Word document before I logged off because when I went back to it an hour later it was gone. It had clearly been posted to be read by one reader – yours truly – and then taken down. And there was only one person who could have posted it.

I didn't tell Nikki she'd been right when we ate our lunch that day. I did however give her one of the two roast beef sandwiches my father had prepared for me for lunch.

"One thing I have to admit about your father Ems," she said between bites, "his home made mustard is great."

I wasn't sure whether to keep eating or not. Mustard a la Sperm. How gross was that? But I was hungry and it just might make me smarter. And Nikki of course was right – the mustard did have a little kick that seemed to complement the roast beef perfectly. Roast Beef au sperm jus? What's the French word for sperm I wondered as I licked my lips.