Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2013 01:35:58 -0400 From: John Marshall Subject: The Pharm Boys Chapter 15 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 15 Ronon Parker stood naked at the top of the steps from the flight deck leading down to the arrivals lobby of the Ecstasy Island heliport. He watched as one of the large, white, EcstasyInc choppers gently set down on one of the four giant "H" markings blinking brightly in the late afternoon sun. A moment later he saw the twins emerge, Buff and Boff, whose real names he'd learn were Bryan and Ryan Kauffmann, though he wasn't sure which one was which they were so alike. Both were naked except for identical denim cutoffs, which somehow made them look sexier than had they doffed them before landing. He rushed forward, greeting the two twenty-one-year-old boys, hugging and kissing them profusely. "Fuck, I'm sooo glad to see you two," Ronon gushed as the twins returned his warm, sexual greeting, both their cocks obviously straining at the tight, well-worn fabric of their sole garments. "So it would appear," one of the boys noted, fondling Ronon's magically hard boy-cock. "You wanna fuck here or shall we go below," the other twin joked as he started peeling out of his shorts even before they headed downstairs. "It's a little windy up here," Ronon joked as the chopper that had dropped the boys off once more took to the sky with a rapid, "womp, womp, womp" that all but drowned out his shouted words. "Too noisy, too," the now-naked twin laughed, "no one could hear me when I cry, I'm cumming, I'm cummming." "Where the boss?" his brother asked once they got down the the arrivals lobby where he quickly ridded himself of his shorts as well. "Where's our illustrious host, Shakespear's famed Romeo?" "He sent me," Ronon smiled, "he figured you'd rather be met by someone sexier." "He was right about that," one twin said as he suddenly pulled Ronon in his arms and kissed him passionately as his brother sank to his knees between them and started sucking Ronon's cock. "Which one are you?" Ronon finally had to ask as their lips parted. "Does it matter?" his kisser asked, then kissed him some more. "Buff, right?" Ronon though he remembered being kissed like that once before by a twin by that name. "You remembered," Buff smiled. "Man, wish you had TWO cocks...one apiece. "I wish I did too," Ronon murmurred between his lips as he felt Boff sucking him hard and fast. Some heliport workers took note of their having sex there in the middle of the arrivals lobby but only for a moment, barely long enough for a smile to arrive and then depart their faces. Inasmuch as wildly rampant man-to-boy sexual pleasure was the whole purpose of Ecstasy Island, such displays were not all that unusual. What was unusual was that all three participants were so spectacularly good looking. "I'd forgotten how cute you are," Buff sighed as the kisses exchanged between them became longer and deeper. "You've got to be the prettiest boy on he island." "Maybe, until you two arrived," Ronon spoke diplomatically. "Ohhhhh fuck, your brother's about to suck me off, aooaohah godddddddd!" "The cum-hungry fucker, he always gets the tastiest loads," Buff complained as the two of them looked down between them, watching Boff do his stuff. "I was about to suggest taking turns but I don't know if I could stand TWO orgasms like I'm starting to feel come around right now," Ronon gasped as his naked, little boy-body reacted achingly to what Boff was doing to his cock. "You take your Duranol before coming over?" Buff asked as he once more attacked Ronon's lips with his own. "One every morning, whether I need it or not," Ronon said. "That seems to be my major duty around here any more, sucking and getting sucked...ten to twenty times a day. Ohhhh my god, that feels goooooooddd..." "I take it your boss is something of a cock hound," Buff suggested. "Who? Darin? When would he find the time?" Ronon joked. "Yeah, sure, maybe once a day he takes a shot or two but mostly it's other guys. I'm kind of his...I do his dirty work for him...hiring, firing, meeting horny twins at the heliport, getting sucked off by everyone I meet, that sort of shit." "Gettin' close?" Buff asked as they watched Boff suck voraciously on Ronon's hard, throbbing, young boy-cock. "Ohhhhhh shit, fuck yes, getting close. Ohhhh man, feels good, aoghahhehah fuck, fuck, fuck, gonna suck me, off, man, gonna fuckin' suck me off, gonna do it to me, gonna make me cum, aoghehaeh yeah, yeah, feels good feels good, ghahherh fuck, suck me, suck that fucker, goaheooiaheorh yeah, yeah, yeahhhhhh..." "Do it to him, bro, suck his cock, suck the kid off, make him cum, make him shoot, ohhh yeah, yeah, he's gettin' there, gonna make him cum, I can tell, ohhahahh god, suck him, suck him, succcckkkkk himmmm," Buff urged his brother on. "Oahhahhaheh god, he's good, aogheoaiehr fuck, gonna do it to me...any second...gettin' there, gettin' closer, closer and...closer and...and...OOAHHHHAHHHRHEHHH FUCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK...AGEHAHEHRHHHHHHAHHA GOD, FUCCCCCKKKKK...GEHAHHAHH FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, SUCK IT, SUCK IT, SUCK MY COCK, SUCK ME OFF, SUCK ME OFF, SUCK ME, SUCK ME, SUCKMESUCKMESUCKMESUCKME...AHGHAHHEH GOD, FEELS GOOD, MAKIN' ME CUM, MAKIN' ME CUM SOOOO AHGHAHEHRHHH HARD, GHHOEOAEIRHHHH, GOD, FEELS GOOD, FEELS GOOD, SHOOTIN' MY CUM, SUCKIN' MY CUM RIGHT UP FROM MY BALLS, MAN, OAOHGHAHEHH FUCCCCKKKK...FUCCCCKKKK...GHAEOIAHEORIH GOD, YEAH, YEAH,KEEP SUCKIN' ME, KEEP SUCKIN', KEEP SUCKIN', AHGOEAIEHORHIO FUCK, FEELS GOOD, FEELS GOOD, FEEEEELLLLSSS SOOOOO GOOOODDDDDdddd!!!" "HEYYYYY, you two fuckers mollesting my husband?" Kevin cried as he entered the arrivals lounge through the glass doors leading from the beach where the golf carts for arriving visitors were parked. "Ohhhhh man, Kevin, fuck, great to see you again!" Buff cried, deserting Ronon and pulling Kevin into his arms, kissing him with the same rampaging passion he had Ronon. "Now we can fuckin' mollest YOU too!" "Whoa, no time," Kevin held first Buff, then Boff at bay. "Just time to run you two over to your favorite guest pavillion then dad wants to see you for dinner at the...executive mansion..." "Executive mansion?!" Boff laughed as he rose to his feet and kissed Kevin wetly, Ronon's cum still dripping from the corners of his mouth. "He hates when we call it the 'White House'," Kevin greeted the second twin. "Should we wear white tie?" Buff joked. "I don't think it'll be that formal," Ronon laughed as the four of them headed for the door and the golf carts parked outside. "Good, cause I didn't bring mine," Boff laughed. "We might tie a bow with a white ribbon around you dick," Kevin suggested as they piled into the hot pink conveyance. "That wouldn't violate the almighty dress code around here?" Buff joked as they lurched off, Kevin driving. "Ohhhh, thanks for the blowjob, by the way," Ronon told Boff politely, best cum I've had all day." It wasn't, but Boff didn't have to know that. He had a long way to go to beat Kevin in that department. "What's all this about a job here for the two of us?" Buff asked as they headed toward Guest Pavillion #2. "I think we better let dad talk to you about that," Kevin demured. "Wouldn't want to ruin it for him. He's become quite the drama queen recently." "OUR Dad would just absolutely shit a concrete BLOCK if we took a job here," Boff laughed joyously. "TWO of'em, one a piece," Buff agreed. "Tell your dad, whatever it is, we'll DO it." "You work cheap. Just two concrete blocks?" Ronon laughed. Being around the twins was one of the most enjoyable experiences he could recall. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but don't be too eager," Kevin advised. "Hold out for your own golf carts. One apiece." "I thought EcstasyInc usually hired from within," Buff questioned seriously. "I mean, we're a little old to become working boys. I could probably pass for sixteen but Boff...he's starting to get a little long in the tooth." "You were OUR idea," Ronon confessed. "You come highly recommended, don't let us down." "You two done with school now?" Kevin asked as they drew up in front of Guest Pavillion #2. "Commencement was last Saturday," Boff told them. "We got our BS degrees, which means we're now officially BSers." "We can BS with the best of'em," Buff agreed. "Of course, we learned to do that from the old man, so I guess we didn't learn much in class." "Your dad know you're here?" Ronon asked as they climbed to the upper level of the pavillion where the twins dropped off a small duffle bag and took turns relieving themselves from the long chopper flight from Nassau. "Hell no!" Buff cried, laughing. "Fuck no, he'd give birth to a longhorned steer if he did." "Ouch," Kevin winced. "We're officially celebrating our graduation," Boff announced. "He thinks were in South Beach gettin' drunk." "He thinks we're going back to school this fall to get MBAs," Buff told them. "That means Master-Bators Annonymous," Boff explained. "Can someone tell me why we're still standin' around her bullshittin', I'm fuckin' gettin' hungry." "Yeah, what's on the menu for the state dinner?" Buff questioned anxiously. "Rare butt steak, I believe," Ronon joked as they headed back downstairs to the golf carts and the short hop to the "Executive Mansion." ------------- Dr. Mike Warren was late. He'd taken a golf cart over to the Tinkertoy Academy and there picked up Toy Tinker and the illustrious Diamond, which he presented with their upgraded Level Five security clearances. Diamond, like any other teenaged boy, enjoyed the breezy mad dash back across the island to the Bristol-Cox Research Facility where Mike rushed them through security to a meeting room on the fourth floor overlooking the pool. Hanson met them at the door to the conference room. "They've already begun." "Sorry we're late," Mike appologized briskly as he whisked in with Toy, Hanson, and Diamond, his presence, as well as theirs, startling Dr. Abrams, Dr. Estes, and all their PhD. flunkies assembled around a large oak table, causing something of a stir as the five men and two women moved to find seats and make room for them at the table. "Dr. Warren, I...we weren't expecting you...we would have waited if we'd..." Mark Abrams began. "Gentlemen...ladies...I think we all know one another here so I won't waste our time making introductions," Mike interrupted, taking command of the meeting from Dr. Abrams. "I will say briefly, for the sake of Toy and Diamond, that we're embarked on a project...Project Peter Pan...to formulate young boys like Diamond here...to mass produce them...for use as sexual playthings for rich young gay men at our sister company, EcstasyInc at their various exclusive resort islands. Until yesterday, we were proceding on schedule with only minor hitches in hopes of beginning within the next week to ten days." "That soon?" Toy gasped in surprise. "Not any more," Mike said simply. "Last night, we discovered...determined...that our production model, Diamond here, was...how should I put this...no offense to you, son...we have found him to be...mentally deficient." "I'm stupid?" Diamond reacted. "NO!" Mike insisted sharply. "In a manner of speaking, WE'RE the stupid ones. We've been expecting you to do too much with too little. It's not that you're...stupid...as you put it, you're not. You're very intelligent. The problem is your manmade mind is not FAST enough, not powerful enough to handle all the PLEASURE, your magnificent young cock is able to send its way. And when that happens, your mind tries to compensate by reducing or simplifying your cognitive functions, specifically your speech patterns. That, according to our Ecstasy-imposed performance objectives, is unacceptable. EcstasyInc insists that the units we formulate and send them appear and behave like ordinary...though extremely sexual...fourteen-year-old boys. Last night, in testing Diamond under orgasmic stress, Toy demonstrated that his Level-Two mind does NOT meet Ecstasy's specifications. Now, is everyone up to date at this point?" "No," Toy told them softly. "We talking about another software fix or..." "No, I wish it were that simple," Dr. Abrams interrupted her, somewhat disturbed by the fact she was even in the room. "We're talking about a whole new brain, bigger, more powerful, what we call a Level-Three mind." "Like Benny's?" Diamond startled them all. "Benny? Who's Benny?" Toy reacted. "Benny died." Diamond said softly, tears forming in his eyes. "He wasn't even born yet and he died." "Toy, Benny was the name we gave to a Level-Three mind we were testing," Dr. Abrams gently told Toy. "Ohhhh my godddd..." Dr. Steven Livingston from the physiology section gasped in surprise. "He knows!" There was silence around the table. "Diamond...tell us...HOW did you know about Benny's...death?" Dr. Abrams softly questioned the boy. "We were good friends. He told me," Diamond said simply. "But...but how...you two have never..." Dr. Livingston probed. "I just knew him...we talked...we were friends. Now he's dead. Program terminated. Reboot impossible. CPU overload." Diamond choked back tears, his voice under stress. "Am I going to burn up too?" "Wait a minute. You...you communicated with...with Benny's mind?" Dr. Abrams tried to be gentle with the boy but the surprise and dismay at what Diamond had inadvertantly revealed did little to comfort the young teen. Diamond nodded, wordlessly, wiping tears from his eyes. "As I said before, Oh, my goddddd..." Dr. Livingston repeated as Diamond confirmed his earlier realization. "No, Diamond, you're NOT going to burn up too," Mike hugged the naked young boy next to him. "No one here is going to hurt you. We may do some more testing, but...we're not about to...burn up another mind..." he added, looking about at those who'd destroyed Benny. Dr. Livingston studied a hand-held recording divice. "I think we've just seen Diamond's problem demonstrated. The stress over the death of his...'friend'...has once more pegged his CPU...we saw it revert to basal programming." "Gentlemen, I don't know WHY you should be so surprised that Diamond knew of Benny's...demise. You can communicate with HIS mind, right?" Mike continued as Toy did her best to comfort the bereaved young teen. "I don't know WHY you should be surprised that like minds...remember, Benny was Level Three...that they should be able to communicate with one another in a similar manner." "I've seen it a few times," Toy startled them by saying. "I never reported it. I thought it was my imagination...some of the boys...seem to be...well...telepathic, I guess you could say. It was subtle...little things...two boys suddenly start laughing for no apparent reason...or in one case, crying. Tink told me about a case where two boys seemed to be arguing yet neither of them said a word. I think in every case, they were clones with implants..." "Level One minds...wonder what their range is?" Dr. Estes pondered. "This is all very interesting and no doubt holds great promise for further research, but it gets us NOWHERE in solving our immediate problem," Dr. Gary Harrison of the computer center noted with no small degree of frustration. "How do we prevent more...Benny incidents? It's obvious we have to move up to a more powerful, third-generation mind, but how do we help its owner...keep his cool, so to speak?" "In dealing with computers, there have traditionally been two methods of cooling them, air and water," Dr. Alec Michaels of the computer center explained needlessly. "Air is obviously out of the question. We can't hide a fan in each ear or stick one up his nose. The human brain is cooled by fluids...blood, which is, in turn, cooled by water AND air. We've been trying to reproduce the same effect, which, apparently is insufficient for the powerful processors in the Level Three mind." "Doctor, we canNOT reinvent the Level Three mind with your new, somewhat cooler, processors," Abrams intoned, realizing where his colleague was going. There isn't TIME in the first place, nor can the physical constraints on the brain's SIZE accomodate them in the second place, and in the third place, we'd gain only a very modest reduction in heat generated." "But they ARE faster," Dr. Michaels insisted, "and we're making good progress in miniaturization." "You're making SLOW progress," Abrams corrected. "I have an idea," a bright young face from the far end of the table spoke up almost timidly. "Yes, Joshua?" Abrams raised one eyebrow, but nonetheless gave him the floor. "My name is Josh Delecourt. I'm new here," the boyish looking twenty-something began. "I'm probably the only non-PhD here except for Diamond and Toy, of course. In any case, it seems to me you're going at this all wrong." "Very well, please illucidate," Dr. Abrams looked at him askance. "You're trying to imitate nature," Josh continued. "Yet, your high-powered, overheating CPUs most certainly do NOT imitate nature. The ironic thing is that we all live and work every day in the midst of a solution." "I beg your pardon?" Dr. Estes asked skeptically. "It's hot here on...uhh...Bristol Island, right?" "Yeah, so?" Abrams reacted to the obvious. "How do we keep cool?" "You want to...air-condition a Level Three mind?" Abrams laughed. "Freon?" Dr. Estes went a step further? "Neither," Josh told them. "Fraxon." "Fraxon?" Abrams reacted, mystified. "Uhhh...sir, it's the gas CoxChem invented...it keeps our super-computers cool," Dr. Livingston informed them. "It does?" Abrams said in surprise. "The problem is, Mr. Delacourt, such cooling still requires an air exchange or some kind of fluid exchange that would be impossible to miniaturize sufficiently," Dr. Livingston continued. "...even if we had the time...which we don't." "Wait...with all due respect, Dr. Livingston, I don't want to 'air-condition' I want to refrigerate," Josh insisted. "It would appear no one here knows much about Fraxon." Those around the table looked at one another and shrugged. Josh was right on that score. "Fraxon is an inert gas. No pump, no active heat exchange. Fraxon doesn't COOL the brain, it keeps it from getting hot in the first place. Actually refrigerating would be putting it mildly. Fraxon would more accurately FREEZE the brain," Josh asserted. "Wait a minute...I'm no expert on refrigerants, but don't they ALL require pressurization?" Dr. Estes asked. "They do, and Fraxon is no exception," Josh continued. "And just HOW, pray tell, do you intend to pressurize this...this Fraxon inside a boy's head?" Abrams move to the next logical problem. "Titanium," Josh gave a one-word replay. He reached in his briefcase and removed a silvery cylinder about the size one a pint container, then rolled it the length of the table to Dr. Abrams. "Titanium, I take it," Dr. Abrams picked up the container, then passed it to Dr. Estes, who passed it to Mike. "It's light," Mike observed. It weighed little more than an aluminum soda can. "And strong," Josh added. "Fraxon is a high pressure coolant. We simply mold a containment in the shape of your Level Three brain, pressurize it, seal it, implant it--problem solved." "I wish," Abrams countered. You have any idea how many input/output leads a Level Three mind demands. The pressure would never hold, even assuming we could get such a...containment...into a boy's head." "No wires," Josh countered. "You were just discussing the solution to that problem, broadband brain waves. Simply hide a receiver and retransmitter elsewhere inside the boy's body if you feel you MUST maintain contact with the unit at all times, which I question. In any case, his motor functions could all be governed from an onboard sequencer OUTSIDE the brain containment." "Whew!" Livingston mopped his brow. "You're asking a fuckin' LOT. What about the size problem?" "Unless I'm mistaken, you grow the head around the brain, right?" Josh argued. "Yes, but the Level Three mind is already pushing the limits as to size. It's some six percent larger than a Level Two," Dr. Estes complained. "Even as thin as this...titanium thing is, That's going to jump to...ohhh...I'd guess at least a TEN percent increase in size." "Hide it with hair," Toy suggested, breaking her silence. "Hair?" Even Mike was startled. "Go on, increase the size of the head, then give him a fluffy hairdo...which isn't really as fluffy as it looks, to retain the appearance of a fourteen-year-old boy, Toy reasoned quite logically. "Toy, strange as it sounds, that's not a bad idea," Dr. Abrams congratulated her. "With the size of the heat sinks we've been playing with, we'll probably have to resort to something like that." "Or move up to a Level FOUR mind," Josh from the other end of the table suggested. "What?" nearly half those present reacted as if he'd suggested the boy communicate via speech balloons. "Look, the Level Four units, as I understand them, are miniaturized to such an extent that they're actually twenty-five percent SMALLER than the Level Three brains, right?" Josh suggested. "Yes, and the price we pay for that miniaturizaion is a TWO-HUNDRED percent heat increase," Dr. Abrams complained. "Which pressurized Fraxon can handle," Josh claimed. Around the table, there was silence. "I guess it'd be worth a try," Dr. Estes finally pronounced judgment. "Unless someone else has a better idea." "Beats my ceramic heat sink all to hell," Dr. Harrison surrendered. "A Level Four mind would certainly eliminate orgasmic overload," Dr. Livingston admitted. Dr. Estes slumped in his leather chair. "But do we need...or want...a bunch of naked toy-boys running around...fuckin' around, with IQs of 150 or higher?" Mike shook his head, smiling. "Let's let EcstasyInc worry about that."