EJAX-472: Ch. 05

"What happened?"

"You know I have the managers and their assistants from my various stores come to dinner here at the house every few months. In all we were about 30 women. Well, the girls and I were having dinner on the lanai and just as we were finishing up, Philip decides to join us. He sat and talked with everyone...you know how charming he can be. Anyway, I noticed that his hand was going like crazy up and down in his lap and the young girl next to him was getting off on it. I knew he was masturbating under the tablecloth but he refused to look at me. He just kept talking to the ladies."

"He could have excused himself," I said.

"I don't think he wanted to," Bonnie replied. "He then pulls his cock out in full view of the girl next to him and she starts laughing. Of course all the women are curious as to what's going on. I told him to stop but he couldn't seem to help himself, or he didn't give a shit. Next thing you know, he starts cumming right there in front of everyone."

"I don't believe this," I said, disturbed at the news.

"The funny thing was you really couldn't see his dick. All you could see was the sperm shooting up in the air. I mean, Christiana, these were really long jets of cum. I think the women were too amazed to run. Everyone just sort of sat there dumbfounded, me included, as we watched him shoot out these long, stringy ropes of sperm, most of which landed right in front of him on the table."

"You must have been horrified."

"Actually, it was more funny than shocking. Ginny Sterns, you remember her, my manager of the East End store, you know...the 50-year-old platinum blonde with the huge tits...she started counting his ejaculations. Can you imagine? Me and the other girls laughed our asses off as we watched her eyes follow each spurt. I think she counted about 30 of them before she finally collapsed on the floor in hysterics."

"I'm sorry Bonnie. I really am," I said apologizing.

"Don't feel too bad sis," she said with a giggle. "He put on a good show."

"Is he ready for tomorrow's experiment?"

"He's all set. I'm driving him to the Clinic myself."
"You'll be staying of course."

"Of course."

Before hanging up Bonnie assured me that Philip would remain home and under her supervision until they arrived at the Clinic. I think she was amused by Philip's antics but I knew she was deeply troubled about his involuntary lapses into orgasmic bliss. I knew she didn't want to worry me further, but what she didn't admit outright I nonetheless intimated by the tone of her voice.

I spent the rest of the day making final preparations for the test, forcing myself to work diligently despite my quiet desperation. I examined every single one of the sperm samples taken from the previous experiment using standard electron microscopy and I discovered no apparent anomalies; nothing to point the way toward a possible solution. If tomorrow's experiment failed to shed some light on the problem, I could be faced with a host of lawsuits brought against me by the very people I had tried so hard to help. My research, and my credibility as a scientist, would both be in jeopardy. At last, discouraged that I had made no tangible progress after many hours of research, I said goodnight to my staff around 6:00 PM and went home, expecting my night's rest to be every bit as tormented as all the previous ones since the mystery began.

************

Helga Voorman was sitting on a large couch in her living room surrounded by her mother on one side and her father on the other. The attractive blonde kept fidgeting with her school ring, which she wore proudly on the fourth finger of her right hand. It was her only solace now. Not even her parents, normally very protective of their only child, could help her avoid the seemingly endless questioning she had been subjected to over the past hour by the Stockholm police. The two officers, both tall and blonde, stood over her with determined faces, ignoring her discomfort in their pursuit of the truth. As they had done with every girl whom they had interrogated, they promised her that she would be reinstated at school if only she would come forward regarding the truth about John Cardelli and the group sex disaster of the week before. She looked up at them pleadingly, her large blue eyes filling with emotion.

"I've told you everything I know," she said with frustration. "Why can't you just leave it alone?"

Lieutenant Klaus Endland and Sergeant Wilhelm Richter remained impassive. Both men had interviewed almost all of the girls in her French class and had turned up nothing substantial. As a result, the sex pervert known as John Cardelli was now back home in his own house, his wife having bailed him out the night before.

"We can't leave it alone Helga and you know it," said Endland bluntly. "This man Cardelli is a sexual deviate and a child molester..."

"No, he's not!" Helga interrupted. "I told you he never hurt anybody."

"But you can't deny that he exposed himself in front of the entire class."

"He couldn't help himself."

"So you said before."

The Lieutenant paused a moment as if weighing his next question.

"Why do you think he couldn't stop himself, Helga?"

"I don't know."

"She's told you all she knows gentlemen," said Mr. Voorman, on the verge of losing his patience. "I want you both to leave now."

Richter knew that the girl was reaching the limits of her endurance and felt a tinge of pity for the young woman.

"Please," he said to Mr. Voorman, "just a few more questions and then we'll leave." He turned to Endland. "Okay, sir?"

Endland nodded.

"Helga," Richter began gently, "did you notice anything wrong with Mr. Cardelli at any time?"

"I don't know," she said, looking down at her ring. "I guess he looked a little funny."

"How so?"

"Well, when Bridget gave her oral presentation his face got all red and he looked like he was out of breath. But that's because he was...you know..."

She was reluctant to say what she was thinking.

"Because he was masturbating." Richter said, finishing her thought.

"Yes."

"And did you not think his behavior to be completely bizarre?"

"He was just overcome...with lust...you know..."

Mrs. Voorman threw up her hands.

"Do we have to suffer through this whole sordid story all over again?" she asked the two policemen.

"It's okay mom," the girl said, as if trying to recall something. "I think I remember now."

"What do you remember?" Endland asked.

Helga sighed lightly and stopped playing with her ring.

"Mr. Cardelli said that he was on some kind of medication and that's what made him act like that."

"What kind of medication?" Endland inquired.

"I don't remember..." she said, her voice trailing off.

"Try Helga," Richter said. "It's important."

The girl looked momentarily at her mother and then her father, as if they somehow held the clue to the missing information. Several moments passed and then suddenly her face lit up.

"I know what it was!" she exclaimed. "He called it 'EJAX'...yes, EJAX-472!"

Both men looked at each other.

"I've never heard of such a drug," Endland said to Richter. "Have you?"

Richter just shook his head.

"Better call it in and see if forensic has anything on it."

Endland looked at Helga. "Are you sure that's what it's called?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Thank you. This information may prove to be of some help."

As the two men started to leave, Mr. Voorman got up to escort them to the door.

"You are going to see that my daughter gets reinstated at school?" Mr. Voorman asked Endland.

"I wouldn't worry about it Mr. Voorman. If she's as innocent as she claims to be, there shouldn't be any problem."

Both men looked at the girl, but she simply looked the other way.

"She's just a child," Mrs. Voorman added, stroking her daughter's hair.

"In the eyes of the law, your daughter is of legal age and therefore responsible for her actions Mrs. Voorman," Endland said. "But I'm sure in time that the truth will come out. It always does. Good day to you."

Endland looked at Helga one last time but she refused to meet his gaze. The girl was hiding something from him and he could feel it. In fact, all the girls he had interviewed had downplayed their role in the incident, choosing to single out their teacher as the sole culprit. How fickle of them he thought: one moment a beloved teacher, the next a forsaken criminal. But she had given him a lead. This stuff "EJAX-472", whatever it was, might provide the missing part of the puzzle to this strange case. He and his partner hurried back to the station with a sense of urgency, eager to discover the identity of this mysterious drug. It was the first time he had felt a sense of hope since the investigation began.

************

It had been a long time since Luis Ramon Hernandez had been forced to steal to support his habit. An avid drug user, he usually had no trouble scoring enough stuff to keep him on cloud nine. His job as a shipping clerk paid moderately well, and he could afford to keep an ample supply on hand at all times. However, his recent experience with the accursed EJAX-472 drug had left him vulnerable. He dared not go out during daylight hours because he feared that he would have another one of his "involuntary ejaculation" attacks that began when Dr. Swensen and her sister had forced him into having his dick sucked by that miserable, traitorous gringo, Philip Olmstead. Thinking back on that day, he shuddered with disgust.

Even now, as he casually walked down a dark, nondescript street toward one of the small magazine shops that stood inconspicuously between a row of other squalid little establishments in the western quadrant of Stockholm, he could still feel the bruises on his back side, reminding him of the ignominious exit he had made from the Olmstead estate a week earlier. He remembered with terror the deafening roar and the irresistible onslaught of air as the cannon exploded, the jeers of the crowd following him even as he sped over the vast expanse of lawn and over the fence into the waiting branches of a large apple tree. He remembered clinging desperately to one of the uppermost limbs until it broke from under his weight, sending him hurtling down through the thicker layers of branches beneath, landing at last on his back on a knoll of damp grass somewhere in the middle of the orchard.

The physical pain he had suffered that day was excruciating, and he swore an oath to himself that Dr. Christiana Swensen and all those associated with her were going to pay for his humiliating defeat. He knew that the injuries he suffered would soon disappear in time, but the psychological aftereffects were far more devastating. He had been humiliated publicly and his manhood degraded. Such an affront against his person could not be forgiven—ever. And unlike the patchwork of scars and bruises that adorned his body, such injuries would never heal. How he was going to exact revenge against his persecutors he did not know. He was not good at planning. Even now, as he felt for the pistol that was shouldered under his jacket, he had no plan other than pointing a gun at someone's face, demanding money, and quickly escaping on foot. Luis had no head for analytical details and absolutely no patience with himself or the world in general. This made for a deadly combination.

He walked into the store and stood directly in front of the magazine display, which he peered over furtively, watching intently as the young woman behind the cash register made change for an elderly man. He would wait until the man left the store and then he would make his move. He did not want to hurt the girl. In fact, he thought her rather pretty and felt somewhat ashamed that she would forever after think of him as nothing more that a common hoodlum. But this personal self-analysis was merely a trifling fancy. He needed money and he needed it desperately. Not only for his own miserable survival, but also to fund his campaign of revenge against the one woman who had shown him the most kindness he had ever experienced from any human being.

As the elderly man made his way toward the door, Luis felt an overwhelming urge to push him from behind in order to facilitate his exit. He restrained himself however and once the door closed behind the old man he grabbed a magazine and headed quickly toward the counter. The girl, a very pretty teen-aged blonde, looked at him and smiled, unaware that he was now reaching for his gun.

"Will that be all sir?" she asked.

Luis made no answer.

"Sir?" she asked again.

His hand fell away from his chest and to his side as he inhaled a great draught of air. Something was happening in his genital region. He knew what it was and he knew there was no way to stop it.

"Oh, no. Not now!" he exclaimed.

"What's wrong?" the girl asked, alarmed. "Are you sick or something?"

Without answering her, Luis fell back into a rack of newspapers as he felt the first influx of sperm begin to coalesce in his testicles. The sensation swept over him like a tidal wave and he had to hold onto the display rack to prevent himself from falling down.

"Somebody help me!" he screamed.

The girl panicked and ran outside trying to solicit aid from any passersby. There was only one other person within earshot, a middle-aged woman across the street carrying several parcels in her arms. Upon hearing the girl's frantic cries, the woman ran to her aid and rushed into the store behind her.

They found Luis sprawled out on the floor, his pants pulled down around his ankles and his fist violently tugging away at his prick. His face was contorted in pain and it seemed as if he could hardly breathe. Both women looked at each other stupefied.

"Good heavens!" the middle-aged woman cried. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know!" the girl replied.

"Did you call the police? Look at him!"

The girl stood there watching but made no reply.

"Call the police for heaven's sake!" the woman screeched.

Tearing herself away from the bizarre sight, the girl ran behind the cash register and dialed quickly.

"Hello, police? Please send somebody right now to 11 Studer Way," she insisted. "There's a guy in my store...he's jerking off...yes, that's what I said. He's jerking off in the store. Yes, yes! Jerking off...masturbating. No...I don't know. He's having some kind of fit. Please, hurry up!"

She hung up the phone and came around the counter.

"They're on their way," she said.

Both women were now standing about 10 feet away from Luis, looking on helplessly as the troubled young man rocked his body from side to side as if he were having an epileptic fit.

"Why is he doing that?" the middle-aged woman asked as she focused on his erect penis.

"I have no idea," the girl replied, equally dumbfounded. "But I'm not going anywhere near him."

"Neither am I," the woman agreed.

It had been a wise decision on the part of both of them. For no sooner had they reached a lull in their conversation than Luis starting moaning aloud as the first in a series of stupendous ejaculations commenced. The women watched in horror as rope after rope of sperm shot out of the tip of his agitated cock and sailed high into the air, forming a spectacular train of white-hot globules that coated the entire ceiling immediately above, and everything else beneath it, with a gooey, opalescent paste.

"Jesus Christ!" said the woman spellbound. "Is it ever going to stop?"

"It doesn't even look real," the girl said, disbelievingly.

"Looks real enough to me!" the woman exclaimed, sidestepping a misguided arc of sperm that missed her face by inches. "Move back! Move back!"

The girl was slower to respond and, as a result, was hit with a thick strand of semen that clung to her dress and hung there as a testimonial to her lethargy.

"Oh, shit!" she squealed, examining the stain on her dress.

The older woman quickly grabbed her and pulled her toward the door, out of harm's way. "There's something definitely wrong here. No man can ejaculate like that."

As if in answer to the woman's observation, another volley of cum—this time seven rapid bursts of white following upon one another in rapid succession—flew outward at an angle parallel to the floor and bathed everything in its path with its slimy residue.

"I think he just did," the girl said, overcome with amazement.

Luis' orgasm continued for several more minutes. Sometimes it appeared to the women that his convulsions has ceased, but these brief and deceptively inactive periods were nothing more than the drug manifesting itself for another launch of its sperm-laden cargo, forcing out another entire series of ejaculations, each one more volatile than the one before. Throughout it all, Luis was forced to take in air so quickly as to preclude speech. It felt to him as if he were pedaling a bike rapidly up a mountain, yet the pleasure he derived from his orgasm nullified any perceived physical distress outside of his rapid and labored breathing. He was not aware of time and space, or the two horrified women who continued to observe him from across the room. All he wanted to do was to make the orgasm last as long as possible, irregardless of anything else.

Suddenly the girl rushed to the door, the sound of a police siren drawing closer.

"Oh, thank God," she said with relief. "They're here!"

As the patrol car pulled up in front of the store, Luis' orgasm began to subside. He rose to his feet slowly, unsure of where he was and what to do.

"Don't you go anywhere," the woman said to him. "The police are here. They'll deal with you now."

The purpose of his failed escapade slowly coming back to him now, Luis scanned the immediate area looking for another way out. He saw his chance. Directly behind the register was a small foyer leading to a staircase that opened up onto the street in the back of the building. He made a run for it. At the same time two policemen noticed his attempt to flee and scrambled to intercept him.

Not realizing until too late that the floor beneath him was completely saturated with his sticky sperm, Luis took one step and skidded right into the waiting arms of one of the cops. He struggled in vain as another officer cuffed his hands.

"You wouldn't have gotten very far my friend," said the tall policeman. "We have the back covered too."

Luis turned around to see another tall policeman enter from the back door.

"Let me go," the young man said. "I didn't do nothing!"

"Oh yeah? But you were going to weren't you?" said a third officer as he retrieved the pistol from Luis' holster.

Upon seeing the gun, the young girl looked at the older woman and shuddered.

The tall policeman who had entered from the back door came around the counter and surveyed the area where Luis had relinquished his immense load.

"What the fuck is all this shit?" he said looking up, as huge globs of cum continued to drip in long, gelatinous strands down to the floor below.

"It's sperm sir," the other tall man replied. "The same thing I saw at St. Bridget's."

The other officer fell silent, shaking his head in disbelief at the amount of fluid surrounding him. "Read the son of a bitch his rights," he said at last in disgust.

"You can't lock me up mother fuckers!" Luis screamed. "I'm an innocent man!"

The tall officer by the counter casually walked over to Luis and looked down upon him. "What is your name?"

"I am Luis Ramon Hernandez," came the defiant response.

"I am Lieutenant Endland and this is my partner Sergeant Richter. I want you to tell us everything you know about EJAX-472."

End of Chapter 5