EJAX-472: Ch. 04

Suddenly, I heard some sharp words being exchanged from behind me. Bonnie and Philip were now standing behind a few other people just out of my range of vision and were engaged in a very heated argument. Shifting my position, I watched as Bonnie grabbed him by the balls with one hand and pulled him toward her. His face contorted with pain as she maintained her grip on him, the truth of my accusations now irrefutably borne out by my test—uncontestable evidence that Philip had indeed deceived all of us. The extent of his crime was as of yet indeterminable, but that he had lied about using the drug was now clearly evident. He made a motion to move away from his wife but she held him firmly, demanding answers to her questions. He looked down at the floor dejectedly, looking for all intents and purposes like a scolded puppy on a leash.

I turned around just in time to see a final jet of sperm fly into the darkness. Or so I thought. While all the other men's orgasms had now subsided, Joey's cock refused to stop ejaculating, and continued to shoot out huge ropes of cum in every direction. Kira, and the rest of the people in Joey's immediate vicinity, ran for their lives as the thick, viscous cream shot out indiscriminately like an unmanned fire hose, coating everything within a thirty-foot radius with its slimy effluence.

"Me fuckin' beauties are goin' wild!" Joey screamed in alarm. "Help!"

There was really nothing I, nor anyone else, could do except watch and wait for his orgasm to stop. But the sight of his little body rocking to and fro to the force of his ejaculations provoked howls of laughter from everyone, including myself. With each new ejaculation his enormous twin mutations bounced up and down like a pair of water balloons, making his already off-balance frame tilt back and forth as it waited to collapse upon itself. The sight of his tiny arms gesticulating wildly in mid air in an effort to maintain his equilibrium was so hilarious that I actually shed tears of laughter. But instead of providing him with added support, his frantic movements only served to topple him over onto his back, driven to this supine position by the weight of his unwieldy sac. As he kicked his little legs in an effort to stand up, his cock continued to squirt, sending a barrage of sperm high up into the air. Even Bonnie and Philip, who themselves were in a sticky predicament of their own, had to stop and stare at the hilarious sight; their somber expressions turning to joy as they were unable to prevent themselves from laughing.

A few minutes later Joey's cock ceased squirting and he was helped to his feet by a few of his fellow associates, his entire body awash in his own juices. The little man could barely walk as he was led out.

"Fine thing to do to a man," he said to me with malice. "You and your drug be damned!"

"Go and wash up Joey," I replied coolly. "You look ridiculous."

He stood there momentarily with his own sperm dripping off his face in unappealing clumps, regarding me with contempt.

"I'll go get cleaned up all right," he said walking past me. "But I'll be back. You ain't gettin' rid of me yet miss."

I didn't know what to make of his threat but I thought it ludicrous that he should even make such a statement in his weakened and soiled condition.

Within minutes, several attendants exited the main house with buckets of water, mops, and disinfectants in hand. They cleaned the entire front area of the stage, removing every last vestige of sperm and the plastic sheeting that had been laid down earlier. The lawn directly in front of the arena was covered over with tarp to prevent anyone from slipping and falling on the semen-slick grass.

As the rest of the people exited the arena, only Rebecca, Maria, and Cheryl remained along with Alice, Bonnie, and Philip, who was now standing silent and obedient as she began once more to berate him. Most women at this point would have opted to take their argument indoors, or better yet, avoid the confrontation entirely by walking away. Not Bonnie. In this respect she was like me: she would rather confront an issue head on rather than ignore it and let it fester. This was fine in itself, but unlike me, instead of keeping her arguments private, she would turn the entire affair into a public spectacle. I could tell by the determined look on her face that this is exactly what she now intended to do. Telling Alice to return to her seat, she took her husband in hand.

"Come with me!" she ordered Philip, as she led him by his penis toward the microphone.

"Bonnie don't you think..." I started to say.

"Relax, sis," she said calmly. "I'm not mad at you."

Although I was pleased to hear that my sister was on my side once more, I viewed her handling of Philip with some trepidation.

"What do you think she's going to do?" Rebecca asked.

"I don't know," I replied. "Maybe you and the girls should go and get yourselves washed up."

"Okay, boss. But I kind of like the way this cum clings to your fingers," she said with a giggle. "Funny stuff, isn't it?"

As my three friends started to walk away, Bonnie caught their attention.

"No, don't go. We're all in this thing together."

The girls looked at me for direction.

"It's okay," I said reassuringly. "Stay with me."

Noticing my friends' sperm-coated hands, Bonnie ordered her attendants to bring some wet towels. These items were shortly provided, and as the three girls began to clean the cum off their hands, Bonnie smiled at me. The four of us stood several feet away to the left of her and her husband, waiting to see what she would do. Still maintaining her grip on Philip's penis, my sister addressed the audience.

"My husband would like to make a public confession."

She turned to Philip.

"If you please..."

It must have been awkward for him to be standing there on stage naked with his balls in his wife's hands. I could only imagine the things that were running through his head as he sought to find the words to explain his treachery. It seemed that he was no longer her "dear" husband and would have to be punished. What form that punishment would take I couldn't guess, but knowing my sister's proclivity for theatrics, it was bound to be a production on a grand scale.

"Ladies," he began, "my intention was to provide my wife with a spectacular birthday, and in this respect I believe I have succeeded."

Philip drew away from the microphone, hesitant to continue. Bonnie glowered at him.

"I'll rip these things right off," she said threateningly, "if you disobey me."

She tightened her grip on his balls for emphasis, and his face expressed visible pain. I noticed his scrotum was beginning to swell—a positive indication that he had been taking EJAX-472 for at least several days, contrary to what he had led me to believe.

"About a week ago I was contacted by a man who told me that he was in the possession of a drug that could increase the volume and distance of a man's ejaculation. At first I thought it was just a crank phone call, but after learning of my sister-in-law's discovery of EJAX-472 and the man's association with her experiment, subsequently corroborated by my dear wife, I decided to meet with him to purchase the drug."

"What man are you referring to you?" I demanded of Philip, wanting to know whom it was who had ripped me off.

"Well," he replied, quickly looking around, "he's here tonight."

He looked out toward the bandstand and pointed to a smallish man in a black and white polka dot clown suit sitting on a small red tricycle. "That's him," he said, "the little guy on the bike."

No sooner had Philip finished speaking than the evil clown made a mad dash over the lawn toward the front of the house, running over flowers and shrubs as he frantically pedaled his little tricycle.

"Get him!" I cried.

Several attendants tried to capture him but the clown was too fast for them. In his desperate attempt to flee, the he crashed his vehicle into a bunch of women seated in the last row of chairs. As he fell off his bike, several of the women who were still standing began beating him with their fists in a fit of anger. At the same moment I saw Kira the Amazon appear on stage. She had responded to my plea and rushed onto the lawn in the direction of the melee, brandishing a boomerang in her hands. The clown had beaten off his attackers and was now running again at full speed toward the front gate. Curses assailed him as he tripped and fell repeatedly into the multitudinous bushes and underlying shrubs that adorned the periphery of the flower garden.

Steadying her splendid six foot, five inch frame, Kira raised the boomerang above her head, aiming it toward the running man. With one graceful gesture, her arm swung out, releasing the weapon into the air. The boomerang flew out over the heads of the audience in the direction of the fleeing clown and hit him in the back of his head, felling him. All of us cheered at seeing him brought low and in seconds several attendants had captured him and brought him on stage kicking and screaming. Kira was given a standing ovation for her marvelous feat, and she bowed gracefully, recognizing their appreciation with a regal nod.

"Get that little mother fucker up here!" Bonnie ordered her attendants.

As the evil clown was carried onto the stage I had an impulse to punch him in the face. There was something about him, something eerily familiar about his sinister laugh that tormented me since he first hosed me down earlier in the day. My intuition told me that my previous baptism by water, and the menacing way he had attempted to whip me, was not done in an attempt to induce a chuckle from the audience, but to physically abuse me publicly, and performed solely at his own discretion. Hiding behind that black and white makeup lay the true identity of the man who had stolen my life's work. It was time for him to make amends.

Two muscular attendants held the clown from each side, restraining him. He looked straight ahead, not moving a muscle.

"Get me something to take this crap off his face," Bonnie said to one of the attendants as she finally let go of Philip's testicles.

While she waited for the man to return, my sister looked the clown over from head to foot.

"Take off his hat," she instructed.

The attendant pulled off the clown's hat and threw it aside revealing a head topped with dark, curly hair.

"A gentleman always removes his hat in the presence of a lady," Bonnie said, chastising him.

The clown started to say something in reply but thought the better of it and simply shrugged.

"I'll bet you wanted to tell me to fuck off, didn't you, you little prick," she said. "What's your name?"

The clown remained silent, refusing to look at my sister.

"I asked you what your name is asshole!" she shouted.

Again the clown remained unmoving.

"Philip," she said trying to keep her anger in check, "who is he?"

"He never gave me his name," he replied nervously.

Bonnie looked at him with scorn. "Are you telling me that you don't know the names of the people you do business with?"

"Oh, I do, I do," he said somewhat embarrassed, "but not in this particular line of business, my dear."

"Well, what do you know about him?"

"Nothing, my dear. Nothing."

The attendant returned holding a small bottle and a rag in his hands.

"Wipe that shit off his face please," she ordered.

The attendant opened the bottle and tipped it forward, releasing a small amount of clear liquid onto the rag. As he went to apply the solution to the clown's face, the little bastard raised both his legs up and kicked outward, sending the attendant flying across the stage and onto his back.

"You little fuck!" Bonnie screamed as she drove her fist into his face.

The evil clown howled in pain as he reeled back from the blow.

"Put him on the recliner before he hurts someone else," I said to Bonnie.

"Hey!" she said smiling. "Great idea sis!"

She turned to her attendants.

"Bring that rack thing out here right now and strap this asshole into it."

The clown looked at me, his eyes full of hate.

The adjustable wooden recliner was rolled out, the same device that had previously secured the lion man, and the evil clown was strapped into it standing upright, his arms and legs spread-eagled. Through it all, he remained silent.

"I'm going to take your makeup off now," Bonnie said to the clown, "and if you make any attempt to bite me or spit at me, I'm going to have one of these very big and strong gentlemen take over and I'll order them to slap your face repeatedly until all the makeup if off. Do you understand?"

The clown nodded once. Pleased at his response, Bonnie proceed to remove the makeup. About halfway through she turned to me and offered me the rag.

"Go ahead, sis. This is the little shit who stole from you. By rights, you should have the honor."

Anxious to learn the identity of this miserable creature, I grabbed the rag out of her hands and quickly resumed where she had left off. As I wiped away the makeup I could sense his hatred of me, and this made me wipe his face even harder, trying to make the experience more unpleasant for him.

Slowly, as each swipe of the cloth brought me further toward the truth, so also did the fragmented pieces of memory begin to coalesce into something more tangible. I knew this person. And had the makeup been applied less carefully, I might have discovered his true identity earlier on, before he had a chance to do any mischief. Now, on the verge of his identity being revealed, he remained unmoving, only the vaguest hint of a smirk appearing on his face.

I must have been standing too close to him to realize the point at which the makeup had fallen away enough to discover what lie beneath. Like a person who stands too close to a painting to recognize any details, and instead sees only a blurred outline, so it was with me when I finally had removed the last of the greasepaint.

"Oh, fuck, it's him!" Cheryl exclaimed with a mixture of disgust and amusement.

At the very moment she uttered those words, I jumped back instinctively, as if suddenly confronted with a sickening realization. The only one of my former test subjects who had served to cause me untold grief had returned in the guise of a clown.

"Fucking whores," was the first thing out of his mouth. It was directed at all of us and delivered in a most menacing tone.

Bonnie pulled me away from the man, sensing my distress. Before I knew what was happening, my sister had lifted her leg up and delivered a sharp kick right into the smirking clown's nuts. He screamed in agony.

"That's for calling us whores!" she said, losing her temper. "Sis, tell everybody who this mother fucker is."

"This," I said raising my voice so that everyone could hear, "is Luis Ramon Hernandez, one of the subjects of my EJAX-472 experiment that was conducted last week at my Clinic. This is the man who stole the drug and all my research papers."

The audience responded with outright anger.

"How did you do it huh, shit head?" Cheryl asked the fallen clown.

"Why don't you ask him!" Luis replied, looking at Philip.

Bonnie's husband backed away in fear. "What do you mean ask me?" he said, his voice faltering. "How the hell should I know what you did?"

"You paid me to do it you fucking gringo!" Luis screamed.

If guilt was a tangible commodity that could be worn on a person's face like a smile or a frown, then Philip Olmstead's expression was riddled with it. His wife was too well acquainted with his singular idiosyncrasies to be fooled by his feeble attempt to act the part of the innocent victim. She stood with her legs wide apart, hands on hips, and looked back and forth several times at him and Luis.

"Come here, Philip," she ordered.

"Sweetheart, I..."

"Come here, Philip!" she said emphatically. "I won't ask you again."

Taking small steps, he made his way closer to his wife.

"Please, don't grab my balls," he pleaded.

"Is what he said true?"

"Promise you won't..."

"Is what he said true?" she demanded.

Knowing that his precious balls were on the line, Philip could do nothing but admit the truth.

"Yes, yes, it's all true," he blurted out. "It was all planned from the beginning."

"Fucking stupid hombre!" Luis yelled.

Rebecca warned him to shut up but Luis spit at her, calling her several horrible names.

"What you called me can only be compliments to you senior!" she said as she kicked him squarely in the balls.

Luis let out an agonizing scream as his head rolled back in pain.

"You'd better watch what you say jerkoff or else you'll be going home a eunuch!" Cheryl advised him.

"Sis," Bonnie said turning to me, "it's your ballgame."

Without further prompting, I took matters in hand, knowing full well that my sister had now given me carte blanche do with her husband and Luis as I saw fit. All through the entire scene the audience had remained galvanized in their seats, waiting upon our every word. Philip's admission of guilt had startled them and I think they were taking some sort of perverse pleasure in seeing him brought down by his more able and powerful wife.

"I want you to tell everyone exactly what happened." I said to Philip. "And don't leave anything out. You are going to be punished either way, but if you stick to the truth I may let you go off easy." I turned to Luis. "And as for you, you will speak only when spoken to. If you utter just one word without being asked, I'll have my friends here kick your balls off. Do I make myself clear?"

The little bastard made no indication that he had heard me, and this angered me even more. But to show him that I was indeed serious, I had Rebecca, Maria, and Cheryl strip him.

Ignoring his protests, the girls had his clothes off him in a matter of seconds. This delighted the women in the audience who cheered the girls on as each piece of his clown outfit was ripped from his body with complete disregard for his dignity. He now stood before us completely naked, his compact, muscular body the object of both ridicule and desire to his female onlookers.

"The next foot that connects with your scrotum will be mine," Maria warned Luis. "So you better do as Dr. Swensen tells you. Got it?"

Luis looked away and said nothing.

I indicated to Philip that he tell his story. I knew this was a distasteful task for him but I felt no sympathy for his pathetic show of innocence, which he tried to employ as a pretext for saving what little credibility he had left. Showing reluctance to address the crowd, Bonnie glared at him and pointed to the microphone. I saw him cower at her orders and this made me dislike him even more.

"I...I want to apologize to my wife for my lack of foresight and I hope she will forgive me," he said meekly.

"Cut the bullshit!" a woman shouted from the audience.

He looked at me for a moment before resuming and I could sense that he was genuinely distraught.

"This guy Luis," he said pointing to the clown, "is a professional thief and a drug dealer. As most of you people are aware, I have connections all over this country and practically nothing escapes my attention. When I learned through my sources about the success of Christiana's...I mean, Dr. Swensen's drug, I contacted Luis and he agreed to take part in a plot to steal the drug from the Clinic."

At this point, Philip paused, overcome with shame at his admission to being the architect of the crime. Bonnie's face reflected mixed emotions at his confession: embarrassment for her husband and repugnance at his involvement in the sordid escapade.

"I saw to it that his medical records were falsified," he continued, "and used my power to get him to partake in the experiment. His presence there was just an elaborate hoax to steal the drug, nothing more. He simply picked the locks and walked out with the goods. I paid him a great deal of money for his services and I wound up with a drug that I could market. I didn't realize how powerful EJAX-472 really was until tonight and its success has spelled my doom."