Chapter 493: Screw Science

Fucking for science, that is a new one.

I moved behind the first of the girls and gently placed my hands on her tits. Her nipples were already rock hard. Over the heavily padded thing there, she bent forward and reached between my leg to put my dick in her mini volcano. A backward push slid two inches inside her. She started rocking her hips to get more of me in her. When she started doing all the work, to fuck her pussy with my dick, I got a good hold on her hips, and then we got into the science fucking project.

She is a squirter, and even the suit cannot stop her gushing when she comes.

This girl started to cum a second before I pumped her full of sperm. She stopped moving as I pumped my load in her. When I started getting limp, she reached between us to use her fingers to keep as much of me as hard as possible while she tried to get me ready to go again. I can only guess that scientists told her to pull off my dick.

The tech came to plug that girl’s pussy with a tampon, move the girl to the floor, put a pillow under the girl’s butt, and then come to wash off my dick.

As I lined up to enter the next girl, I looked at Marlene and the boy. Marlene and the boy had been kissing and lovingly caressing each other the whole time I fucked the first test subject. Some techs had gone in to lift Marlene’s leg, move the boy forward, and get two inches of his dick inside Marlene before putting her leg back down.

I pumped the second full of sperm, even though my body decided to get her pregnant by putting sperm in my pre-cum too. Only as I worked to open the tight casing to stuff with my sausage did my implant show the second girl ovulated a second time. It appears whoever made this room messaged my implant to have the place in my head make that happen to mess with the researchers who would look at this fucking data.

I quickly fucked the rest of the girls, went to shower, dressed, and headed home.

On the way out of the complex, one of the scientists called me and said, “You do know that you got conned? The experiment was to have twelve teenaged males with different radioactive dyes highlighting their sperm to track who got how much in the girl and which made it to her egg. I do have to say that those girls had gotten some excitement going around that experiment. It didn’t look like you minded. From the data we have already, you knocked all six up. However, that isn’t the reason for the call. Marlene has some interesting mental health issues. On the surface, she seems okay, but dig down a little bit, and you find all sorts of crazy shit. The boy she met in the fuck chamber will be perfect for her to keep her on track and provide the reward system for progress.”

“David, Marlene is going to be here for a while. She had a lot of baggage and believed her father was an Ambassador to U.S. Samoa. Her parents died, and people hunted her to kill her. It seems you are her only friend she can trust to save her life,” a doctor said.

I told the doctor that it wasn’t her imagination. I gave a bit of our history. They were surprised because they believed it all a load of bullshit. Not that I blame them, given the stories kids here tell. I did get onto them about assuming it was bullshit right off the bat, though. They can access a lot of data on kids that come to my foster care complexes.

“You need to make sure you use the computers you have here. It has all the details on Marlene, including tracking data that the U.S. Government, and those chasing Marlene, didn’t have access to,” I told them.

“Sorry, David,” the head of the mental health department told me. “I browse the web just fine and type in my reports, but I will need some training to search for details on patients. Right now, that poor girl doesn’t trust us, and I don’t blame her.”

I laughed, pissing them off a bit, before saying, “That is easy to fix. Tell Marlene you thought she was full of shit and apologize for not believing her, even if it was pretty damn incredible. I know all of you came from a different type of world than her, and I get that you are doing things how you learned. I don’t know these kids that well. I haven’t been an orphan, abused, or walked in their shoes. I can tell you that they need to trust that all the staff here are honest with them. Take Marlene as an example. I know you can’t tell some patients, especially those suffering sexual, physical, or mental abuse, that you think they are full of shit. I expect you to believe those patients until you find the patient lying, exaggerating, or there is solid proof otherwise. Tell Marlene that you find what she is saying sounds pretty far-fetched and ask for some details. I know people can have some damn good imaginations, but you should be able to verify some things. Ask her about having a friend over to visit.”

Yeah. You only listened to me because I’m the boss and don’t think I know shit.

One of the newest doctors here went to where Marlene was hanging out after all the scans and said, “Marlene, What you said about being an ambassador’s daughter, them getting assassinated, and on the run trying to get to David seems pretty far-fetched. Would you believe it if someone had told you something like that?”

“No. Not a word. I’d think that person is crazy and needed to be in therapy for crazy delusions,” Marlene said sadly. “Do you have any idea how much I wish they were some insane fantasy I concocted to trick David into fucking me as I wanted when I was ten? I was such a little snotty, foul-mouthed, rude, little cunt. My parents let me get away with it too. At least they did until we were at some fancy dinner at this place where well-connected people ate. He invited David, his friend Paula, and his parents. People there expect children to be seen and not heard. David did all he could to get me mad at him, on purpose, to get me to throw a tantrum. That couldn’t go uncorrected, or people would judge my father as both weak and unworthy in their eyes, which is political suicide. David had no choice but to tear into my bare ass in a room made for correcting children’s attitudes. He didn’t want to do it, and I don’t know if he liked taking out his anger on my butt. David saved my life, as I told you already. I was having a tantrum in the wrong place and very wrong fucking time. People came to kidnap me or kill me in the process. I had no clue. David didn’t either. He saw a fat little girl running full speed toward doors that led right onto a busy road where people drove over the limit. People started shooting at me, and David got between them and me. Somehow he got me into a nook and did all he could to be in front of me to keep me safe. One of the people shooting at me shot at him. A tiny bit to either side would have missed his phone and gone through both of us. I looked at what the police sent my dad. That bullet would have blasted most of my chest out through my back. I’m pretty sure David would have lived, but it would have fucked him up in the head.”

The doctor sat there thinking it through, and when Marlene paused, he said, “You heard what you said, right? Little fat girl being chased and shot at by kidnappers. Some boy grabs you and is a human shield for a girl he doesn’t know, and then has his phone stop a bullet that would have shredded you otherwise.”

Marlene laughed, and it was honest, happy laughter before saying, “I know, right? The bullet that would have killed us stopped because David had this tactical military spec case on his phone. It almost made it through the case. He got hurt a bit. Think that is crazy? Just wait. When it was safe, we got out of that hole and found my new dress was dirty and torn. I was angry as hell. Who was he to grab an ambassador’s daughter? I didn’t need some boy stopping me from running out into traffic. I was ten, not some little kid. I know how to look both ways. I wanted my dad to have him shot for doing that to me. I started to get it after he tore into my ass at that restaurant. My dad made me go over to apologize before we left to fly home. Mom sent me up to suck David off and then fuck him, just to show him he wasn’t anything special, just an ordinary, boring, dumb boy. He got pissed.”

Then she told him about the people coming to my house trying to kill her and her family. Someone I knew could show where the people were coming from, the one that drove into the propane place that blew up and all the other craziness. From there, it got insane. That was about how Marlene, her mom, and her dad hired assassins to take out the other two. The secret service, FBI, or some other federal agency, which she didn’t care one shit about back then, got them to safety. When all the adrenaline wore off, it started to sink in that I had saved her life twice and her parents’ lives once. Like a lightbulb went off in her head, she realized that all I wanted was for her to go away, not some reward. It was her mom’s idea to blow me, but Marlene admitted she wanted to have my dick inside her pussy, if it would fit, and if not, in her ass. Both ideas grossed her out, but that was all she had to give me that was hers and not her parents. In Samoa, their cherry is what the tween girls Marlene knew at school said was the most precious thing they had, and it was priceless to them.

Not that those girls will have any choice about who they give it to most of the time.

“You do know that I don’t care if you believe me or not. I went through some seriously fucked up shit these last four-plus years. Look, it is no secret David had a pencil dick that day up in his room when I sucked him off. When I was eight, I could get a Charpie marker inside, not tear my cherry, and squat down without pushing out. I lied to myself back then about why I tried to screw him. David was a boy with a dick that would slide in with no problems. I just sucked him off, so he would last a long time. I found lube on his nightstand and had already squeezed a bunch in my pussy before I started to suck him. His dick would rub inside me as the marker did, but it would be a boy. No one would believe we had sex. I was even going to lie about it and say I have done it with one of the hairbrushes from his bathroom while I sucked him off. My medical records at the embassy would confirm I had many visits related to me sticking things inside me that made it look like I got sexually abused or raped,” Marlene told the doctor. “As I said, I don’t care if you believe me or not. That is the first time I’ve ever talked through that day with anyone. It means so much more to me now that he said I was too young and wouldn’t do me even if I was at least fourteen back then. I appreciate that you aren’t some condescending old prick sitting here listening to me as he tries to figure out how to drug me sane or if what I said would make a good book.”

Oh, the look on the other doctor’s faces right now.

“I get fifty percent on any fiction or based on a true story, books you publish when working here for me,” I deadpanned. “Damn, you are all way too serious. Did someone screw up when they hired you? I need doctors to help these kids, not condemn or assume all are liars until proven otherwise.”

The department head and two doctors told me that I would have their resignations in the morning.

“Take a few days to think if this is the right place for you. Figure out why you are here. Do you just want to be somebody who sits there listening to patients for a paycheck, or are you willing to do what it takes to figure out how to help them?” I asked. “You hear a banging and scraping under your car. You see your tailpipe dragging the ground when you look, so you take it to the mechanic. They have your car for the day, charge you a bucket of money, and tell you there is no problem. You look under the car, and the tailpipe is still on the ground. They say it isn’t, and they’re the experts, so you must be making it all up. You ask for someone else to take a look. They say they aren’t sure there is any problem, and it may just be you hearing things. Still, they believe you see something wrong and hear the tailpipe dragging. They have you show them what you see and ride in the car to find out if they hear the same sounds you do.”

I paused to let that sink in.

“I don’t want the old mechanic that assumes you are full of shit, but they are more than happy to take your money and do nothing but say you are making it up. I need the mechanic that thinks you are full of shit, tells you that, but also goes to your car to take an honest look. I can’t tell you if any patient is lying, and maybe it is all in their head or not. That is why we hired you. Police detectives must decide if the story changes each time they tell it to determine if someone is lying. Some of your patients are under duress or worrying about going to jail. Hopefully, they aren’t afraid of being locked up in one of the rubber rooms. You need to think if you can be the mechanic that listens and goes to check it out. If you can’t be anything but the old mechanic who believes you are a moron about cars, then you need to return to whatever you were doing before coming here. I don’t want you if you can’t adapt to be open-minded instead of stuck in the past.”

The older department head said, “Don’t you think that is a little harsh, David? You are only eighteen and can’t yet comprehend the full dimension of mental health problems. It takes decades to learn.”

“Here is what I know, doc. You know my history. I saw a lot of old assholes like you who told me I was making everything up. They insisted that nothing happened to me all those years ago happened. Was I fucked up believing I was invisible when instead I ignored everyone? Sure. They all assumed I was off in fantasy land, and maybe I was, but none bothered to do shit about it. I know that none of them even asked my parents if anything I told them was real or just an overactive imagination,” I told him. “I can’t say I turned out well or if I’m not a powder keg waiting to explode. What I know is that the friends who worried about me going off to one of my hiding places to kill myself said I held sad kids, opened doors, was always polite, and listened to a lot of them pour out their hearts when no one else would. Some told me that I did respond to them from time to time when they needed it the most. I still wonder today if anyone ever asked my parents about how I responded to what my parents me happened with my birthday party or if it would have changed things.”

Be angry and pissed off. I don’t care.

“Ok, David, tell me, what did your parents say happened with your birthday party,” he sneered.

I looked him in the eyes and said, “Fuck if I know because I never asked them. I’m sure they found out that night or soon the next morning. I found out after I woke from my coma when Paula and her father told me. Tell me honestly. Would you have ever asked me that question?”

I then looked at each of the others. At least half wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

“Hell, maybe I’m way off base here. Do you know how to reach Molly’s doctor? Call him to discuss what I said. I’ve seen it in his eyes and how he cares for her. She isn’t a patient. She is family. If they hadn’t crossed paths, I fear she would still be locked off in some institution somewhere. Did he always make the right choices in her treatment? Probably not, but he cared about Molly and her well-being. He did all he could to find out what would help her. I expect you to do the same.”

“To hell with you, David. You’re just as bad as any other wealthy shit that believes he knows everything. I don’t need this crap. I’ve been doing this way for too long to put up with it,” he told me.

“Go calm your self-righteous ass down. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to decide. If you leave, we will have your personal belongings packed and shipped to a temporary one-bedroom efficiency apartment,” I told the mental-health department head.

He was still fuming mad when he asked, “What? You’re that big of an ass that you will make my kids sleep on the floor now? Is that how you treat people who no longer do your bidding?”

“Your kids can sleep on the floor of their rooms if they want. They can sleep on the floor in your living room, bathrooms, den, office, or wherever they want. Your wife does a fantastic job here, and your children thrive in our schools. Why would they have any interest in leaving? Your kids do not need the allowance you would withhold if they didn’t cower before you, and your wife doesn’t need you to provide for her anymore. No wonder you are angry. You’ve been lying to yourself for years and have now discovered you’ve been lying to yourself. It sure sucks to be you.”

One of the women psychologists added, “David may be off on some of what he said, but he is dead-on about your family. You’ve been coming to work pissed off, starting two months after you started working here. I’ve heard you bitching about how your family is ungrateful for all you do for them.”

I knew he needed to cool off, so I started heading toward the stairs. As the door closed behind me, I heard security telling him that he needed to chat with HR regarding his contract.

The head of HR met me as I walked out of the building and said, “As much as I would love to tell you that this is all your doing, I get to gloat instead. There is a combined total of forty-nine physicians, psychologists, psychiatrists, nurses, various medical technicians, and related medical staff across your facilities who aren’t up to par. Multiple external medical professional organizations evaluated them, and we found these doctors lacking in the areas where they said they were experts in their fields. We provided each with the reports written by their peers from these organizations and gave them a generous six months to get their shit together. Eighteen contacted us for training and mentoring to help them fix their deficiencies. Seven others changed to different jobs that better suited them and the kids. Six told us to fuck ourselves and departed. That doctor we put on probation. He said the report was bullshit, and all his peers were quacks jealous of him landing this job. His six months were up this morning. His wife ensured that the movers had all his personal belongings. They are on the inventory sheet provided to him with video and photographic proof of being packed. Between us, I’m glad you bitch-slapped him back there. I talked with his delightful wife at length. That asshole has been mentally and verbally abusing his wife and children for a long time. Soon he will find out that we are not renewing his contract. We provided the medical staff with the initial unsatisfactory evaluation and the monthly reports from external organizations. We have to be responsible, or the medical community will not treat us with any respect. Those on the selection committee found the best in their fields in the world. Unfortunately, they don’t always pan out.”