Date: Sun, 17 Mar 2013 01:10:48 -0400 From: John Marshall <crackerjacker18@hotmail.com> Subject: The Pharm Boys Chapter 10 In trying to avoid the most common plot scenarios featured on Nifty, this story continues the saga which began with "Ecstasy Island,"continued with "The Working Boys," followed by "Ecstasy Renewed" and "EcstasyInc." "The Pharm Boys," like the previous segment, is unorthodox but quite seductive, as are the figures depicted. Like "Ecstasy Island" and "The Working Boys," "Ecstasy Renewed" (all found under Bisexual Adult/Youth), and "EcstasyInc" (found under Gay Adult/Youth), this one is also written in third person and proceeds in something close to real time with extensive dialogue to carry the story along and intense character development. Some of the minor characters from the earlier stories have returned to become major characters, but there are also quite a number of new characters which will occupy the main spotlight in this segment. Once more, this story is extremely orgasmic with all ejaculating dialogue written in UPPER CASE. If you do not wish to be exposed to such material as described, leave now. If you are too young for this sort of thing, leave now. If reading this causes you to break the law where you live, leave now. Otherwise, take the time now to get naked and get your cock hard, start strokin' it. Jack yourself off as you read and see if you can time your own blasts of naked sexual pleasure with those of the people in the book. This one averages about two to three orgasms per chapter. For that reason, I don't recommend reading more than one chapter at a time. Any more than that might be hazardous to your sexual health...especially your hard, throbbing cock. Note: The inclusion of any actual individuals in this story is in no way meant to suggest actual occurrences or their sexual orientation. All drugs mentioned are fictitious. If you like what you read, let me know at crackerjacker18@hotmail.com. THE PHARM BOYS CHAPTER 10 "Maybe you better show me this...'secret tunnel' over to the factory," Mike suggested that afternoon once the security memos had all been delivered and signed for. Surprisingly there was not the uproar Mike had feared, even from Dr. Abrams, who managed only a 'dirty look' at lunch to register his dissatisfaction. "The tunnel?" Hanson suppressed a laugh. "Hell, you haven't even had time to explore your office yet...hadn't we better start with the fourth floor here first?" "What's to see, it's an office...more spacious and a tad ostentatious but still..." Mike looked about, waundering out onto the terrace just behind his desk. It overlooked the main entrance to the facility. "Nice view but..." "Did you notice the bed?" Hanson asked with a shade of seductive sexual intonation. "Bed? Where? What do I need a fuckin' bed for?" Mike asked in dismay. "For fuckin'?" Hanson smiled sexily, his cock hardening instantly, as only an eighteen-year-old cock can. "Where? Hanson went over to one corner of the office and removed a book from the bookcase. The entire bookcase slid to the right revealing a hallway. "What the fuck...a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" Mike laughed as he followed his sexually tempting naked aide down a short, wide hallway. "Bathroom on the right, your private office/boudoir straight ahead, and your private elevator down to your so-called "secret tunnel," Hanson led the personal tour, then plopped down seductively posing on the queen-size bed. "If you're itchin' for a fuckin', you know how I feel about sex on the job...and besides, after your horny little hotdogs last night..." Mike gaped about. "You say this goes down to the secret tunnel?" "Wait, you haven't seen the board room yet," Hanson hopped up from the bed, "Besides, there ain't much to see down there, it's all one big, empty room." "Hooookay...lead the way," Mike exhaled, much more intersted in seeing the new factory across the water than paneled splendor of an empty meeting room. Back in the main office, Hanson showed him an identical bookcase in the opposite corner of the room. As before, he removed a book causing this one to slide to the left this time. "Which book?" Mike inquired as Hanson returned the expensively bound leather volume to its shelf. "The Prince, by Dante," Hanson showed him. "Michiavelli...it figures," Mike rolled his eyes, amused that someone at Cox Pharm actually had some semblence of a sense of humor. "And on the other side?" "Sherlock Holmes, of course," Hanson told him. "I can't remember which one...you'll recognize it, it's the only one by Arthur Conan Doyle." Mike looked around without comment. The room was plush, though not as over-the-top as he'd expected, principally unique for its beverage buffet and two, floor-to ceiling whiteboards. Through another set of double doors, these not having a literary bent, Hanson led him into a large, brightly lit clerical office manned by his chief of staff, a guy named Benton, and six clerks bound to computers so firmly they didn't even look up to see their new boss. He greeted Benton, who seemed a pleasant enough fellow of about thirty, rather bland in manner and appearance. Unlike Hanson, he'd obviously NOT gotten where he was on his good looks or by sleeping with every shaven dick in the company. "The fourth floor here is mostly offices and computer terminals," Hanson continued as they headed down the tiled and paneled corridor toward the security guard outside the main elevators. "Hanson!" Mike stopped, calling after his handsome aide. "The tunnel...the factory..." "Ohhhh, okay, but the guys are all cuter on this side of the lagoon," Hanson insisted as they reentered Mike's overblown office which Mike noticed for the first time, featured a wall-size video screen so large it looked simply like a blank wall with a framed landscape. Upon closer inspection, the landscape, frame and all, turned out to be a digital image. "I can pull up digital artwork of naked boys if you prefer," Hanson told Mike as he noticed the man staring at the screen. "EcstasyInc sends over a disk of their newest acquisitions every month." "Maybe later," Mike smiled, this time leading the way himself to the bookcase in search of a good mystery. It worked! Just as before the secret bookcase slid aside to reveal the secret passage to the secret bedchamber with its secret elevator to the secret sub-basement leading to the secret tunnel. "Who the hell designed this layout, anyway, Nancy Drew?" "I did," Hanson told him glumly. "There's a corner cubbyhole down on the first floor if you'd prefer." "Never mind," Mike sighed as he pressed the "down" button next to the elevator. The door opened instantly. The lighting inside had a magenta hue. "It's probably filthy down at the bottom, they don't clean the place down there every day like they do up here," Hanson warned. "The cleaning staff have Level Five clearances?" Mike inquired. "Hmph...yeah, they can go places in this building I can't even go," Hanson snorted, "not that I'd WANT to but..." The elevator doors opened into pitch blackness. The magenta glow from the elevator did little to penetrate the darkness. Hanson reached outside the elevator and flipped a switch. A single, incandescent bulb overhead lit up, lighting the immediate area. "Looks like Cox has more space than they know what to do with," Mike observed. "For now," Hanson told him. "It's cheaper to build too much initially than to add more later. Once the...Adonises...start pouring in for preliminary inspection and initial trials, this place will be hopping." "Who does the...initial inspection and trials?" Mike questioned. Hanson shrugged, "You, me, whoever the hell WANTS to, I guess," he grinned leacherously. "That'll be YOUR problem, once we get that far. I doubt you'll have to PAY anyone though...this place is horny as..." "Which way to the tunnel?" Mike interrupted. "Aren't there any more lights?" "Nope, just one down by the other elevator and one or two in the tunnel." Hanson told him. "No one uses this end of the room and only a few need access from the labs upstairs to the factory. It's used mostly in bad weather. Most people prefer a topside walk, or ride, or swim." "Come on," Mike sighed as he boldly strode out across the concrete floor toward a light in the far corner. "Downright fuckin' SPOOKY down here. When is this area scheduled for work?" "You're asking ME?" Hanson countered. "You're the boss...you're in charge of scheduling shit." "I suppose you're not the best one to ask, but when is the production facility expecting to start...formulating," Mike had to remind himself to use his own new vocabulary. "Several weeks...a few months, who knows?" Hanson replied. "Ask across the way when we get there." "The tunnel, I presume?" Mike nodded toward a circular opening in a corner as they passed the lab elevator. "You presume right," Hanson told him, "just don't expect lavish mosaics or marble tile." "My god, the ceiling leaks!" Mike exclaimed before they were more than fifty feet along the eight-foot wide, eight-foot tall concrete tube." "Good thing we're naked, right?" Hanson joked. "There's showers and towels at the other end." "Showers?" Mike asked in dismay. "Hey, we're moving into a 'clean room' enviornment, no dirt, dust, or bodily moisture permitted," Hanson explained. "In the mind assembly area, a speck of dust in the wrong place could sabotage an entire unit. Hairnets are mandatory, underarms and pubes are shaved weekly...daily for some, actually. They keep the humidity down to 25 percent, the temperature at sixty-six degrees, which if you're bareassed, buck naked is on the chilly side. They don't want anyone sweating over here." "And they insist upon nudity, regardless?" Mike asked in surprise. "Actually, it's considered advantageous, no lint from clothing." Hanson revealed the reasoning. "It's like a rain forest here, the water is getting deep," Mike remarked as they waded ankle-deep through the tunnel. "It's a problem too major to fix and not major enough to worry about." Hanson told him. "We're under the pool up above, which may be leaking, or it could be sea water leaching down...it's not salty, we're about fifty feet below sea level here. The engineers say they may be able to fix or reduce the seepage by installing ceramic tile or spraying it with poly...poly-something or other." "Looks like I'm going to have to check out the construction schedule when we get back to the office," Mike noted. "Once they finish at the factory...excuse me...the production facility...god, you and your euphemisms...anyway, I don't think there IS anything else scheduled for construction," Hanson informed him. "Cox is starting to get penny wise and pound foolish, if you know what I mean. But, of course, you're gonna find that out for yourself once they get your security memo." "What do you mean, there's no construction involved...ohhh, you mean the gate access on the cart path," Mike realized as they neared the end of the tunnel. "They're gonna balk at that, I'm sure," Hanson told him. "Why should they, it'd be a minor expenditure, a thousand or two," Mike reasoned. "Plus four new security people to man it 24-7," Hanson added. "Plus it's a stupid idea to begin with." "I beg your pardon?" Mike asked indignantly, unaccustomed to such frankness from an underling. "Unless you're gonna fence off the whole beach as well...not to mention the fact that from the air, it would look exactly like what it is, a high security compound...like we have something to hide." Hanson told him. "Cox has gone out of their way to AVOID just such appearances...you'll see what I mean." At the end of the tunnel, they came face to face with a heavy vault door. Hanson punched in a five-digit security code then together, they wrestled the massive door open. "They're worried about flooding from the tunnel, I take it." Mike commented. "Perhaps, but mostly they're worried about YOU sneaking in the back door like this," Hanson told him. Mike wasn't sure if he was joking or not. "WOW!" Mike exclaimed as he entered the lowest level of the production facility. "Hey, fucker, come back here, help me get this damned door shut again," Hanson shouted. "You can wow all you want later." "You're gettin' to be a mouthy bastard," Mike observed as they slowly managed to reclose the door. "Right on both counts, I'm eighteen years old, mouthy goes with the territory," Hanson claimed. "And for your information, I am illigitimate...a bastard." "Now I see why no one ever uses the tunnel." Mike sighed as Hanson relocked the door. "This way," Hanson led him up along one side of the huge room, passed several large, glass cubicals Mike judged to be about fifteen by eighteen feet in size. "Where we goin'?" Mike asked as he followed his aide amid the strangely surreal underground chamber. "The showers? Remember?" Hanson reminded him. "Right. I forgot," Mike admitted. "But no funny business." "I'm starting to wonder if you're really gay?" Hanson told him as they moved thought the semi-darkness toard a set of glass double doors at the other end of the huge, largely uncompleted room. "Not as gay as YOU are, apparently," Mike told him as they entered a restroom area. Hanson turned on one of the open showers and adjusted the spray. "Care to join me?" he invited as sexily as he knew how. "What time is it?" Mike asked. "What time...how the hell should I know, I never wear a watch." Hanson eyed his naked boss as the man struggled with the knobs controlling the water flow, trying to get the water hot, but not TOO hot. "Surely it must be after five," Mike sighed, giving up, turning off his shower and slipping beneath the spray next to the naked eighteen-year-old. "Surely," Hanson smiled, starting to scrub his boss's back while at the same time reaching around to excite the man's cock and balls. "I need sucked," Hanson whispered urgently as he rubbed his hardened cock against Mike's muscular hip. "I been wantin' it all day, hoping to get you like this." "You don't say..." Mike smiled down at the slightly shorter boy, kissing his lips lightly. "You have any idea how hard it is to work for...hell...just being around a hunky stud like you and not orgasming all over the fuckin' place?" Hanson moaned as he guided Mike down to his knees on the floor and felt the man taste his cock. "Oooooo...forgodsake rinse off...SOAP!" Mike spat. "Sorry...I got it all soapy hoping to FUCK you but..." Hanson reasoned. "We need to hurry, these guys quit at five." "I thought you said it was already after five?" "So...suck me...I lied," Hanson gripped Mike's head and almost viciously face-fucked him. "Ohhahhahhh fuck...ohahhahh shit, you suck good, oahghhahehh god, yeah, feels goooooood." Mike accelerated, knowing if he didn't they might be there all night. He hoped the formulation workers didn't turn all the lights out when they left. "Oh yeah...oh yeah, baby, ohhhhh yeah, oh yeahh...ohhhh fuck yeah, suck it, man, suck it, suck it, suck me off, man, ohhhh fuck, boss, that feels good, oahhahhahh yeahhhh...we gotta do this more often. I may take up residence on your desk, man. Gees, what a feeling, no wonder Kenny fell in love with you last night, man, ohahhhah fuck, man, yeah, ohhh fuckin' yeah, more, more, like that, suck it...suck me more, harder, faster, ohahhahh god, yeah, I'm so fuckin' horny, aooaoahh god, I ain't shot my cum since last night...goaoiehoiho fuck, more'n twelve hours. I'm not use to going that long without an orgasm, man. Ohahhahh god, yes, yes, yes, give me an orgasm, Mike, do it to me, suck my cock. Suck me off, man, suck me off, suck me offfffff...suck me fuckin' offfffffffffffff!" "You like that, huh, like when I give you a Kenny move?" "Just shut the fuck up and SUCK me," Hanson cried, hating it when Mike interrupted a perfectly good blowjob with some stupid comment. "Do it to me, man, do it to me, do it to me, fuckin' do it to me. Make me cum, Mike, suck me off and make me cum, make me cum, make me...oahhhahah fuck....ohahhahh fuck, I'm gonna...gonna do it...gonna doooo it, gonna cum...gonna cum... AHHAEHHRHEHHGHEHHA...FUCCCKKK...CUMMING...CUMMING, AOGHEAOIEHR FUCK, SUCK IT, SUCK IT, SUCK MY COCK, SUCK MY CUM, MAN, DRAIN ME, MAN, DRAIN MY FUCKIN' BALLS, MAN, AOGHEAIOEORIH GOD, FEELS GOOD, FEELS GOOD, OGHHEOAIEHRO GOD, MIKE, YOU SUCK GOOD, SUCKIN' ME OFF, SUCKIN' ME OFF...MAKIN' ME CUM...CUM...CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM...!" Suddenly they heard the sound of applause. Only then did they return to the real world of underground industrial drabness, realizing for the first time they had an audience of...Mike counted...two, four...six...eight....naked men standing around them cocks hard as rocks, stroking themselves, bent on joining them in their orgasmic ecstasy. "Great show, but did you get CLEAN?" One of the older men asked. Mike blinked in surprise, though Hanson seemed not at all surprised, taking the whole thing in stride. Mike turned off the water only to find there were no towels. Hanson pointed to a body dryer. This they did not share. Mike waited until Hanson was done. "Don't forget to shave," another guy reminded Mike as he finished drying off. Another man handed him a razor and a can of shaving cream. Hanson was already clean shaven. "Want me to do it?" Hanson offered. "NO!" Mike cried in alarm, moving back to the shower, wetting only his groin. "God, no, we'll be here all night if you do." "Don't cut off anything important," one other man taunted him as he watched and jerked. "Why didn't you tell me about this," Mike complained to Hanson. "I could have used an electric razor last night at home." "Ya missed one," some guy noted. "I didn't realize you were gonna insist upon going SPELUNKING," Hanson told him, enjoying the spectacle. Mike had never shaved his pubes before, much less done so in front of a highly critical audience. "Oh, man, this feels weird," Mike noted as he finished. "Give him the hairnet now," another guy said offering his own. "He don't want your dirty old rag," the guy Mike guessed was the boss insisted. "We'll get him one later." "Hey, he cleans up pretty good," one of the younger men joked. "Come on, I assume you're here to snoop around," the older man told him. "I'm Eric Earhardt. I'm the floor manager...or will be, once we get in production. "I'm Dr. Mike Warren, the new..." "I know who the hell you are...everyone here knows who you are," the man interrupted. "Hell, you're almost as famous as Hanson here. By the way, kid, you owe me a blowjob, remember?" "Fuck, is there anyone here you HAVEN'T had sex with?" Mike asked his assistant in dismay. Hanson was silent. "That was NOT a rhetorical question," Mike told him as they all headed back toward the lighted area of the room where all the glass cubicals were located. "I'm thinking...I'm thinking..." Hanson insisted. "I can answer that without thinking," Eric Earhardt. "He's fucked everyone on the whole island but the EverReady Rabbit, and the other night I caught him looking rather funny at the bunny." "Cute," Hanson forced a smile. "Hooooookay, Dr. Warren...or may I call you Dr. Mike?" Eric began once they were in the broad corridor outside the cubicle marked "16". "Get the man a hairnet, Hanson, make yourself useful as well as ornamental." Once Mike and Hanson were adorned with the rediculous looking, disposable hairnets, Eric continued. "This is where it'll all happen. Yesterday, we finished installing the last of the hardware. Today we started testing everything. This is number sixteen. I'm not sure why the hell we started at the ass-end of he count but...we have sixteen units ready, and cubicles constructed for 34 more bringing the total to fifty once we're sure the assholes up in the lab know what the fuck they're doin'. "How long will it take to finish the hardware testing?" Mike questioned, recovering some of the dignity he'd been shaved of back at the showers. "Takes a day to do each unit...fifteen more days I guess," Eric explained. "You can't speed that up any?" Mike asked. "Damned right I could, but I won't," Eric insisted belligerantly. "We're...what was the word...oh yes...we're gonna be...FORMULATING young boys here...thirteen-year-old boys...real honest to god human beings...well, mostly anyway...giving birth to human life. I don't want no fuckin' MISSCARRIAGES because some techie didn't cross a 't' or dot an 'i'." "Good answer," Mike insisted. "Go on..." "Once the testing is done, we fill each of these clear plastic chambers with our patented simulated ambiotic fluid," Eric continued. "Then each superviser carefully mounts one of Dr. Abrams' brainchilds...I know, they're minds, but in this case, brainchild fits the bill perfectly. It's a brain and inasmuch as it been powered up, it is, in fact, a child...conscious, communicative, living, breathing...well, not exactly breathing yet but...thinking being, capable of feeling pain...pleasure too, of course...worrying, loving, longing...everything we can do or feel, THEY can feel." "It looks like a shower stall," Hanson noted. This was all new to him too. "Only more leakproof," Eric smiled. "Okay, over here is our terminal and communication hardware. We can see his face there on the monitor...or what his face will be when he's...uhhhh...formulated. We can watch all his vital signs as they come on line, and, of course, try to set his mind at ease, making his formulation a pleasant experience." "I admire the way you think of the boys as people rather than...'things.' "Thank yourself for that, we got the memo," Eric told him. "Moreover, Abrams came down on your side as well." "He did?" Hanson blinked in surprise. "This monstrosity you've been staring at since we came in handles the stem cells," Eric continued. "I don't know shit about HOW it works, I just know Dr. Estes says it WILL. It's the only thing here not controlled from this room. The mainframe over across the Sea of Sexuality takes care of that. Fortunately for us, they take care of the testing too." "He means the lagoon," Hanson translated. "No shit," Mike snorted, having already realized that. "It looks like something out of a bad science fiction movie but it's basically the key to the whole operation," Eric laughed. "It guides and feeds the entire physical formulation process as the body forms around the brain...err...mind." "You're looking at five million bucks for that one hunk of junk," Hanson told them disparagingly. "Moving on, this is what we call the cafeteria," Eric referred to a thick, metal, post-like console in the corner sporting various LED readouts. "This is where we control the feeding, mostly electrical at the start, but gradually more and more chemical, and finally more and more organic, finally ending on a pure protien diet just before he's...born. Okay to use that term?" "I think so, sounds pretty human to me," Mike shrugged. "The mind is activated, a few days later the body is born." "Exactly thirteen days, six hours, and eighteen minutes, give or take a few minutes," Eric went on. "Give or take?" Mike asked in surprise. "You ever deliver a baby, doctor?" Eric asked. "Once or twice, several, actually, now that I think about it," Mike replied. "Did any of them ever come on time?" "I see your point," Mike sighed in dismay. "We slowly drain away the fluid, establish respiration, and if we've all done our jobs, a beautiful young adolescent boy steps naked from our...'womb'...into a whole new world, not as a baby, not even a sweet and innocent young child, but as a sexually aware human toy with a high school education and more intelligence than most of us in this room, myself and Dr. Warren excepted." "How much intelligence?" Mike thought suddenly to ask. "Level one, an IQ of around 120," Eric told him. "Level two is 135, level three--150, level four--165, and...I believe level five is up around 180 now, though they've never formulated any boys that high...none past level two, in fact." "I think the geeks in the computer center are worried about their creations being smarter than they are and taking over their jobs," Hanson suggested. "I think you're right," Eric agreed, "at least regarding the first part. God, a thirteen-year-old boy with a 180 IQ. Now THAT'S frightening." Mike nodded, "Add to that a pretty face that would stop traffic, a gorgeous body, and a cock to DIE for...the kid could rule the world."