Date: Thu, 16 May 2013 12:11:38 -0400 From: John Marshall Subject: The Pharm Boys Chapter 24 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 24 Mike wasn't exactly surprised the next morning when Hanson stood over the bed, handing him the phone. "It's Abrams." "Yeah...whazup?" Mike mumbled, checking the time. It was a little before eight. "We need to talk," Dr. Abrams said simply. "You've been talking to Josh," Mike guessed. "Just get over here...the computer lab," Dr. Abrams acted as if he was the boss, not Mike. It was more a matter of seniority than any operational chart. Dr. Abrams was not only the oldest member of the Project Peter Pan staff, he'd been at Cox Pharm longer...he liked to claim, since the pope...either one of them...was a choir boys. It was a tired old metaphor but that didn't seem to bother Abrams. "I'll be there...when I get there," Mike reclaimed his senior position as director. "By the way, how'd you and Tony make out last night?" "We made out," Abrams simply replied, his voice gruff and terse. "Thanks," he said perfunctorily. "Sounds like you had fun," Mike said sarcastically. The phone clicked into silence, not exactly a slam-down but neither was there any polite "good-bye, see ya later." Mike smiled at the receiver and handed it back to Hanson. "Mr. Congeniality." "Next time you get the urge to loan him Tony, DON'T," Hanson told him brusquely. "Who pissed in YOUR orange juice?" Mike looked up at his early-rising assistant. "Kenny claims he shot his first load last night," Hanson changed the subject. "Better change the sheets," Mike smiled. "Not my job, man," Hanson claimed in disgust. "What the fuck did HE want?" "Me, mostly," Mike sighed rousing himself to his feet from the bed. "What's for breakfast." "Cold cereal," Hanson sneered. Mike forced a smile as he stretched. "Tony more the worse for wear?" "YOU fucked one of'em into incoherence, HE took care of the other one," Hanson shook his head in dismay. "Suppose you could heat up a bagel, or an English," Mike suggested hopefully. "Not my job, man," Hanson once more repeated. Mike frowned. "Where are the boys?" "Tony came home about an hour ago, up all night long he claims," Hanson reported. "I carried what was left of Kenny in and tucked them in together. We'll be doing good if they're up to fixing dinner tonight." "I'll shower, we'll eat, then Abrams wants a confab...like an HOUR ago," Mike told his assistant. "What's happening in the bug bin?" Hanson asked, using the unofficial designation for the Cox-Bristol Computer Center. "Not sure," Mike said as he stepped beneath the show spray. "But if I had to guess...I think our newborn babe over there may have come up with something even Josh didn't think of." "Titan?" Hanson reacted in surprise. "He was monitoring Diamond every...stroke...every stroke of the way when you were plowin' his ass," Mike told his assistant. "Horny little fucker, it wasn't enough to just WATCH?" "They're like joined at the hip...among other strategic locations," Mike informed Hanson. "Your little performance...you and Diamond, gave Titan the inspiration to... What the fuck am I explaining this to you for, I barely understand it myself?" "I'll fix you a hot breakfast if you try," Hanson offered. Over coffee and warm Danish several minutes later, Mike continued. "You know you were worried that Diamond would never get to enjoy an orgasm again?" "Yeah..." Hanson brightened. "Well, Titan may...I say MAY...may have come up with a solution last night," Mike revealed. "Really? What kind of solution?" "That's why we're having a meeting this morning, so you can find out," Mike teased. "Fuck you. For that I fixed warm Danish and made coffee?" "Either that or Abrams found out Titan wants to rewrite all his operational software," Mike offered an alternative. "He WHAT?" Hanson reacted. "That was mild," Mike smiled induligently. "Mild?" "Compared to what Abrams would say if he knew...or Estes...or Livingston," Mike joked. "However, I think there's still a roof on the computer center so I don't think he knows." "You're kidding me, right?" Hanson asked in disbelief. Mike shook his head. "It seems our Titan has a mighty low opinion of Livingston's programming skills." "I'll admit, he's no Bill Gates but..." Hanson sighed. "Listen, this stays just between you and me, got that," Mike ordered. "I laid down the law to the kid, told him to dump both his coding handiwork and any intention of continuing, but..." "But what?" Hanson probed. "You know him. You get the feeling the little fucker has a deceptive streak running down his newly devloping spinal column?" Mike asked. "You think he's really going to reprogram himself?" Hanson asked in barely concealed horror. Mike shrugged. "I hope not. I gave him a stern refresher course in Asimov's Law, but I'm not so sure it didn't go in one auditory channel and out the other." "Level IV minds give me the willies" Hanson shuddered. Mike smiled, resisting the urge to reveal Titan's appraisal of Hanson's intellect and character. "We better move," Mike sighed, stuffing his face and gulping down one last swig of lukewarm coffee. -------------- There were five waiting on them in the Computer center main lab when Mike and Hanson arrived--Abrams, Estes, Josh Delacourt, Livingston, and Diamond--six if you counted Titan in the vat, who seemed to be developing quite nicely from what Mike could see. He was starting to get a face. "Looks like our precocious little boy's coming along okay," Mike observed. "You run us like robotron slaves then keep us waiting for hours..." Abrams complained, obviously not having gotten any more sleep than poor Tony the night before. "Hours?" Mike smiled. "It just seems that way," Josh was more kind. "Something running askew with our young son?" Mike asked the boy's "mother." "Titan?" Josh beamed. "Hell, no, he's almost 24 hours ahead of projections. Doing beautifully." "Thank you," Titan made his presence known. "Just trying to do my part." "Enough of this," Abrams hated small talk. "Josh, I want to hear this whole thing again." Josh took a deep breath, then glanced at the tank with Titan's mind and rapidly forming nervous system. "I think we ought to let Titan explain. After all, it's his idea." "Dr. Abrams, why don't you put ME in charge of upgrading Diamond?" Titan began. "Whaaaa?" Abrams reacted in stunned disbelief. "Whoa...Titan...forgodsakes, have some respect..." Mike interjected. "Back off." he ordered his "son" forcefully. "Just tell us what you've come up with." "You know all about this?" Abrams asked in surprise. "The basics, yeah," Mike admitted. "I was kind of sounding board last night as he was developing his ideas." "Very well," Titan sigh impatiently. "In a nutshell, Diamond doesn't need a big new brain," he began. "Really?" Estes reacted, hearing the news for the first time. "He needs new balls," Titan continued, a note of impatience in his voice. "Oh, for godsake, Titan, explain yourself, quite fuckin' trying to shock our pants off," Mike rolled his eyes, both amused and perturbed at the boy's demeanor. "What pants?" Titan instandly shot back. "Just go on," Abrams sighed tiredly, "I'm operating on less than an hour's sleep last night." "That long?" Hanson whispered from behind Mike's back. "Musta been after Tony came back." "What I'm...suggesting...gentlemen, is a separate, isolated processor...possibly two of them, located in the boy's scrotum designed with my titanium/Fraxon cooling containment, only much smaller...cherry size...20 millimeter at the most, dedicated soley to coping with Diamond's orgasmic functions, sending periodic packets of sensory data to the brain ONLY during sexual activities." "How periodic?" Estes immediately want to know, apparently having grasped the importance and simple feasibility of Titan's solution. "Fifty milliseconds once every two to three seconds," Titan suggested, "though neither time frame is critical. The main thing is that the mind not be burdened with STREAMING data as Dr. Livingston has Diamond presently configured. You HAVE to stream normal sensory imput for operational imperatives. Sex, on the other hand, is NOT an operational imperative. I'm not sure if the human mind operates with periodic sexual inputs but I KNOW Diamond need not be hard-wired that way." "Josh?" Mike eyed their resident expert. "Well, for what it's worth, he's absolutely right about the last part," Josh began. "I'm kicking myself in the ass for not thinking of that myself. And, Dr. Abrams, I'm sure you've realized this would allow the use, with minor modifications...human modifications, I might add...to use the Level II minds you have stockpiled across the way." "You realize this would get us back on schedule?" Estes added optimistically. "Of course...go on," Abram's voice was less strident than usual. He was obviously pleased at the prospect. "Not so fast," Josh insisted. "We know the cooling and containment aspect works, though I'm not so sure Titan's...remote sensory processors would even need all that...they're not Level IV minds, or even Level I, though if we're to make them... nut-size, current heat sinks might be too large. No, what concerns me is we already HAVE the hardware insofar as the minds are concerned...whether they're level II or Level IV. What we DON'T have are these auxillary processors Titan wants to use...nor do we have the software for them in any case. And quite frankly, I'm not sure WHICH would take the longer to develop." "Let ME worry about the software," Titan volunteered. "Easy there kid," Mike warned cryptically, unsure just what his "son" might spout off with. "I can have the code for you before the day is out," Titan promised. "Thank god for Level IV minds," Abrams smiled. "What about the processors, can you fabricate them by...ohhhh...say tomorrow morning?" He asked sarcastically. "I've already procesed the schematics." Titan stunned them all. Across the room a printer stuttered to life. "You're KIDDING?" Even Josh was amazed. Diamond rushed to the printer, collecting page after page as it popped out, handing them to Hanson who parcelled them out to the PhDs in the crowd. A shroud of silence settled over the room as the best minds at Cox-Bristol pondered the drawings Titan had produced. The page count came to forty-three as the men traded them back and forth trying to comprehend their workings. "In-fuckin'-credible," Josh was the first to render a preliminary verdict, apparently having roamed the same streets as Kenny Tunnis. "Looks like we might call it a Level .5 mind," Livingston noted blandly, "though I can't see the need for TWO." "Cosmetic purposes," Titan's face on the monitor smiled. "Two balls are better'n one, right?" "He's providing a back-up or possibly overflow protection," Josh reasoned. "Hanging free, cooling shouldn't be a major problem," Estes suggested. "Josh is right, the Titanium containment might be overkill." "Can you rig up something adequate as a substitute?" Mike asked. "That's getting the cart before the horse," Estes complained. I can't configure a cooling element until we've actually put one of these fuckers together and put it to work in the lab. It'd be pointless to try and cool it without knowing the parmeters." "Diamond, how'd you like to have a new set of balls?" Mike asked the boy. "You're kidding?" Estes reacted. "I could do the implants if you guys can string the wires," Mike offered. "No wires, transceptors," Josh insisted. "How are you at brain surgery, doc?" "I skipped school the day they taught that," Mike admitted his limited surgical competance. "Cox Pharm got any brain surgeons on staff?" Abrams asked in all seriousness. "How many transceptors?" "One-hundred thirteen," Titan announced. "One-hundred thirteen," Abrams repeated Titan's words in dismay. "You know how disconcerting it is to have a disembodied brain running rings around the best Cox Pharm has to offer?" "No problem," Titan bragged. "A smart-ass too," Abrams shook his head, unsure whether to be angry, proud, or simply amused. "I think Titan has just guaranteed he won't be sent to Ecstasy...not to mention he won't be having many friends like himself," Mike suggested. "I wish we could afford to wait until he's fully cooked then let HIM build these...these gonad processors," Abrams sighed. "You sure the modifications to our Level II minds aren't too complex for the production people to manage?" "If they can put together the Level II minds, I see no reason they can't be instructed as to modifications, they're barely microscopic," Titan replied. "Mostly it's just the additional transceptors..and a total rewrite of the operational code." "WHAT?" The whoop of disbelief went up instantly from around the room. Mike looked up at the ceiling. "Well we still have a ceiling, though looks like there might be a few dents." "You're kidding me. We spent the better part of a year writing that software," Dr. Livingston reacted with both pride and anger. "Titan, be tactful," Mike warned. "Dr. Livingtons," Titan began, addressing the man directly. "With all due respect to you as a...a human being and a programmer...you...you SUCK." Livingtston's face turned read. Mike expected a hole in the roof at any moment. "Dr. Livington, your operational code is twice as long and three times more complex than required," Titan continued. "According to my analysis, your...programming is at least fifty percent responsible for Diamond's overload problems." "God, Titan, you call that tactful?" Mike sighed in dismay. "He's human. To err is human," Titan tried being tactful again, without much success. "I'm sorry if I offended...anyone... but it seems to me if we have any hope of getting back to the proximity of your projected production schedule, there's little time to ponder hurt feelings." "Kid, what the fuck makes you think you can rewrite an Adonis's operational code, in the first place, and can do it in a week or so in the second?" Livingston exploded angrily. "Three days," Titan corrected. "Four at most." "You are absolutely fucking out of your MIND," Livingston insisted, his anger growing by the second. "We spent over eleven months putting together Diamond's software and..." "You spent eleven months COBBLING together Diamond's software and believe me, it shows," Titan retorted. "TITAN!" Mike tried reigning him in. "I counted no less than twenty-three totally useless main routines and an astounding eight-five sub-routines that were equally unnecessory or redundant, three of which actually worked against one another," Titan continued unabated. "There was garbage all over the place, two major sections had been disabled but never removed...something called "Spy'n Pry" and some other dipshit garbage about...this is hilarious...flavored semon?" "Pull the plug on this obnoxious bastard!" Livingston demanded angrily. "Dr. Livingston, please...sit down...maybe we should all take a break," Mike suggested as calmly and diplomatically as he could. "If I had a gun handy, I'd blast that fuckin' tank and spill his so-called brains all over the fuckin' floor! Livingston seethed. "SIT DOWN, LIVINGSTON, AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Mike lost patience with his incompetant programming chief. The lab suddenly grew silent. "Titan is absolutely right," Mike asserted. "It was all I could do last night to disuade him from rewriting his OWN operational software, which, from what I can tell, is a masterpiece compared to Diamond's." "I'm afraid I'll have to agree with that asessment," Dr. Abrams stunned even Mike by his own honest opinion. "Dr. Livington, I realize we've made your job difficult the past year...changes, upgrades, forcing you and your people to rewrite your rewrites again and again. I'm as much to blame as anyone. I knew Diamond's code was a mess, but I also knew it would be simpler to scrap it all and start over from scratch than to try patching it up some more. However, we simply didn't have the time. Even when Diamond started overheating...I suspected the problem...then Josh came along. He provided a complex answer to a simple problem and one which let me off the hook." "I can't fuckin' believe you're all trying to lay this AT MY FEET!" Dr. Livingston's voice rose again in desperation. "I have a WONDERFUL STAFF...who've been working their FUCKIN' ASSES OFF FOR WEEKS...FOR MONTHS, AND THIS IS THE THANKS WE GET, SOME HALF-BAKED fuckin' KID claims we've FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL RECOGNITION!" "FUBAR..." Hanson whispered to Mike. "Dr. Livingston...get out...leave...your clearance is revoked," Mike said suddenly, having completely lost patience with the man. "Hanson, escourt Dr. Livingston to his quarters, help him pack up, keep him there, stay with him until you've put him on the next chopper out of here." "Mike..." Dr. Abrams sighed in dismay. "Dr. Abrams, see that all Livingston's papers remain intact, make them available to Titan as soon as they can be digitized," Mike continued as Hanson all but strong-armed Dr. Livingston from the lab. "That won't be necessary," Titan interrupted, "I'm thoroughly familiar with Dr. Livingston's ineptitude." "And YOU, young man, watch your fuckin' MOUTH," Mike snapped at the amorphic mind in the vat across the lab. "I was prepared to handle Dr. Livingston in my own way and my own good time." "I'd say Titan did you a favor," Dr. Estes suggested. Mike glared at Estes. "Perhaps," he admitted. "But this young man is going to be around Cox Pharm for quite a long time and he's got to learn there's a difference between having a superior mind and FLAUNTING it, even in the case of human error, ignorance, and incompetence. "I'm sorry," Titan repented his arrogance. "Titan, despite your behavior here this morning, you'll be replacing Dr. Livingston, once you've developed a body to match the brilliance of your mind." "You're putting an...an Adonis on staff...MY staff?" Abrams reacted in stunned disbelief. "You got a problem with that?" Mike challenged him. Abrams backed down, shaking his head. "Dr. Estes, I want you to scrounge around Cox International and find me the best neurosurgeon you can lay your hands on then scrub up and join us in the surgical ward for some very unconventional brain surgery. Josh...you too...you're not bothered by the sight of blood, I hope." "I suppose this means full speed ahead with Level II mind modifications?" Dr. Abrams suggested. "Yes," Mike said decisively. "You're main problem is going to be keeping Titan in the loop. I think he's got a better grasp of what needs to be done than ANY of us...including Josh." "We can tie Diamond into Titan, let the boy be Titan's eyes and ears until he's developed his own," Abrams suggested. "Josh...pull all these drawings together and build the boy a couple balls," Mike shifted his attention to his OTHER boy wonder. Then let's figure out the simplest way to keep'em cool during orgasm." "Shouldn't be hard, these schematics are..." Josh began. "In-fuckin'-credible, yes, we know," Mike smiled. "Diamond...I'm afraid you're going to be in for a rough time of it the next couple weeks," Mike smiled sympathetically. "You're gonna be kind of sore top and bottom." "That's okay," Diamond smiled. "I'll be orgasmic again."