Clinical Trials and Tribulations
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Clinical Trials And Tribulations II: Onset Of Symptoms free porn video
The van took a zig-zagging path out of the city and away from the base.
During the journey, I asked Cleo, "How did you know we had been taken and
how did you put this together?"
As to the first, I went by your place two days later to set the
appointment for those photos of you I wanted, and as to the second, Dear
sister do you KNOW how connected I am In the information and intelligence
community? All I had to do was run a keyword search on the Darpanet and
Arpa net and then I followed the word 'Circe' to Kirtland and Sandia
base. From there I just spread a copious amount of money around the staff
of the private security agency the base uses now. Honestly, they REALLY
should have stuck with Air Police they were much harder to bribe."
"So what's our next move, oh queen of skullduggery?"
By this time, Eddie was waking up so the other people in the van unzipped
her baggie and let her out. The young man who did so told them, "We get
out of the city, and then we get to our place in Taos, no one knows about
it. After that, well, we were kind of hoping you guys,-uh girls, er, I
mean women, had some ideas."
A woman I didn't know asked me, "So you REALLY used to be a man, huhn?
Wow, that is un-fucking-believable, what does it feel like, I mean
compared to being a man?"
I looked at her and thought about it. What DID it feel like, how did it
feel to totally transform from one gender to the other with almost no
prep time or warning? After thinking about it for a few minutes, I told
her, "It's like finding yourself on another planet, where everything
looks the same and they speak the same language but everybody treats you
like a different person and even you feel like an alien at times."
She answered pithily, "Fuck."
Eddie told Cleo, "So you're Marc's sister, huhn, no wonder I've never met
you, if I had I would have done my damnedest to get into your pants."
"So who says you can't now, hell now you've got a real shot at me."
"Wait, say what?"
"I'm a lesbian, Dr. Williams, and if I may say you are a very attractive
woman."
Cleo was almost leering at Eddie, that actually seemed to knock Eddie
back on her pins, and she stammered, "Uh, well I uh, that is, I uh, I
mean, um, never mind."
The seed of Eddie's discomfort was obvious, Cleo was clearly being the
aggressor, and that was unnerving my old friend more than anything else.
He had never been in the position of sexual prey.
The van pulled over in an empty part of the country and the driver told
everyone in the van, "O.K., I don't want the spooks following us home so
let's do the do, people. I looked perplexed and Eddie told me, "Marc,
they lojac'ed us, we probably have tracers planted under our skin to let
them know where we are at all times"
"When would they have put them in? I don't remember ever receiving any
surgical wounds while we were there."
The woman who asked me about sex changes told me, "O.K., get the clothes
off both of you, right now."
I stripped as soon as she told me too and they began checking every inch
of my skin looking for scars. They found one in the small of my back that
I KNEW had not been there before. Miss curious whose name I still did not
know, told me, "Yep, it's a scar, but it looks years old and fading fast,
she waved a frequency detector over it and the little electronic wand
went off with a loud squeal.
I nodded and she swabbed the area with antibiotic solution and made a
small incision. It hurt, but the little tracer bug came out. When that
was done, she closed the wound with surgical tape and bandaged it. They
wanded the rest of my skin after bandaging the incision and I was clean.
The two people OTHER than Cleo and I were looking at Eddie and she
reluctantly stripped and let them do the same search on her. They found
the same mark on her, a years old looking scar that was fading. The same
procedure freed her of her little hitchhiker and we left both in the van
as we changed to an old Winnebago at the designated gas stop and car
switch. It was dark and we seemed to be the only people there except for
the nearly comatose station attendant. Eddie and I went from one vehicle
to the other as fast as we could move given that we were both still nude.
Cleo told us that we needed to move fast and leave EVERYTHING from the
facility in the white van. I agreed and Eddie grumbled but went along.
When we got into the Winnebago, our new friends handed us fresh
underthings, and clothes. We both dressed in the Bra, panties, ankle
socks, sneakers jeans, and polo shirts. After we dressed, we were the
very picture of two adult women out on a road trip, just as harmless as
you please. After we did all that, the Winnebago drove away from there as
fast as it could move.
Eddie and I looked around at the inside of the vehicle, a bit dazed by
the whirlwind of activity. The young man handed us each a bottle of pills
and I looked at them, Penicillin
"Four times a day, till they're gone we don't want you two getting an
infection."
Eddie asked him, "You look very familiar to me, son, Are you a doctor?"
"I am, Dr. Williams, in fact you know me, you tried to hire me last year
but your hospital's board didn't care for my politics., "
"Now I remember you, Nicholas Dwight. I was pretty sore about that too;
you're a crackerjack internal medicine specialist."
I asked, "So who are our other two friends?"
The male driver answered, "Dave Pettit, former Lance corporal, USMC."
The woman told me, "Cassandra Lawson, EX Tech Sergeant, U.S. Air Force."
Eddie spoke up again, "How does all this happen, how does your sister
turn out to be in with the rebel alliance, or whatever they are?"
Miss Lawson spoke up and told him, "We're the Patrick Henry society, and
for the most part, we're patriots and we haven't had much to gripe about
realistically. When we do we try to keep it peaceful, you know, an
orderly protest, nonviolent, but when Cleo told us what was going down,
we had to move, this shit is NOT cool."
Mr. Pettit told us from the driver's seat, our motto is, "Our country,
right or wrong, if right, to be kept right. If wrong, to be set right."
I turned to Cleo and told her, "They have everything, my notes, my
documentation, the video, you name it, if they have anyone there who can
do two and two they can reproduce the alpha strain of my formula."
"Well, then they have all that stuff offsite because we checked as much
as we could and it wasn't there, or at least could not be found in the
time we had."
Lawson said, "They do have it offsite, that's S.O.P. for the spooks,
compartmentalization and security and 'need to know' all the way."
Dwight asked, "Yeah, and we don't know where it is, we don't have the
foggiest idea."
I sat there thinking, and my thoughts were not pleasant. Eddie told me
that in the wrong hands, my formula could end the world, and the people
who now had it were the very definition of the WRONG hands. I took my
first pill as prescribed and drank it down with a swallow of soda and
told them, "I doubt they'll look for us, as least not right away. They
don't need us, they have my formula. All they have to do is follow my oh,
so user friendly instruction, JESUS What have I done, all I wanted to do
was stop the killing to stop the violence and the hurting, and now,...What
have I done?"
The group could tell I was upset, and in fact, I was starting to cry.
Cleo sat next to me and hugged me trying to comfort me. I thought my
tears would upset them and make them angry, but they all seemed to draw a
strange kind of solace from my emotional upset."
Pettit, told me, "It's O.K., we don't blame, you, well, we do, but not
much. You're heart was In the right place and you're obviously sorry for
what you've done. That tells us you're worth something, at least."
Lawson told him, "Speak for yourself, Dave, I blame her plenty, the road
to hell is paved with good intentions. Dr. Feelgood here may have wanted
to make everything all sunny and warm, but thanks to her, the human race
could well die by inches."
Eddie asked, "SO what, what happens next?"
"Dr. Dwight answered her, "Well, if I'm them, I find some luckless
patriotic Special Forces type and browbeat him with the American flag
until he agrees to take the formula. Then, I send him to the Middle East,
or South East Asia, or the Balkans, any third world region dominated by
strict patriarchal systems and I have him fuck every powerful looking
bastard in sight. Their plan will be to destabilize the terror networks
and rouge states. It will even work, at least at first. The problem is,
that then the virus will be out, containment will be impossible and no
one will even know it is happening until it's too late. By the time
anyone realizes the problem, it will be far too late."
Lawson asked, "O.K., so,...what's the plan ,what do we do?"
Dwight, told her with obvious fear in his eyes, "I'll be damned if I
know."
That was when I felt faint and Eddie and Cleo both looked at me with
concern asking me, "Marcia, when did you last eat?"
"I don't remember, I think a little before I left, they were pretty good
about feeding me on time and on target, although sometimes I blacked out
because they would miss one."
Dwight snapped his fingers and told me, "There it is, that's when they
bugged, you, they probably had to sedate Eddie for it."
"They kept me sedated, for most of the time; I guess I wasn't a very good
guest."
The way she grinned told me that she had been her usual pain-in-the-ass
self during her stay, so the staff conked her out as much as they could
to shut her up. That answered the how. We already knew the why.
Cleo started me on a Hershey bar while they looked for a place for us to
stop for something to eat. Pettit was against it on the grounds that it
was a stupid thing for fugitives to do, Lawson affirmed it for precisely
that reason.
"Look, Dave, they're going to expect people to ACT like fugitives, with a
lot of running and a lot of looking over their shoulders. The last thing
we can afford to do is to ACT like we're running from someone. Getting
twitchy around cops, not stopping for meals, making mistakes. That is the
LAST thing we need to do. Besides, Dave, Marcia isn't alone, I could use
a bite myself."
The Winnebago pulled into a heavily used truck stop several miles up the
road. It took Dave Pettit a few minutes to find an empty parking space.
When he did I was about to head in when Cassie Lawson stopped me and told
Eddie and I, "Here, put on these wigs, they won't be looking for two
brunettes with hair past their shoulders."
I did so as it hit me; they would almost certainly have the word out to
the local news media. Perhaps they would call us radicals or domestic
terrorists or escaped mental patients. In addition, there was the
ubiquity of surveillance cameras. They were almost certain to search for
screen grabs of us from traffic cams, security cams, ATM cameras, you
name it. Cleo looked at both of us and told us, "Listen the two of you
need to walk behind me and try the walk the way I do, especially you Dr.
Williams, you don't have a dick anymore, so try to walk as if you DON'T
have a Yule log between your thighs."
Eddie asked, "What about you, Cleo won't they be looking for you?"
"They would, if they suspected for a second that I knew my sister was
anything other than a doddering old man. As it is I have a dear friend of
mine living in my house using my debit card and frequenting all my usual
haunts back in New York."
I asked her, "O.K., so how do we stay off the radar when we need to eat
and buy gas and get stuff?"
Cassandra Lawson took out a plastic wrapped bundle from a hidden
compartment in the floor and unwrapped it revealing a stack of 20-dollar
bills. She then passed them out to Dr. Dwight, Cleo, Dave Pettit, Eddie,
and me telling us, "Cash money, the practical cloaking device in a 9-11
world."
I wondered at the relatively small bill denomination, then I realized a
twenty was large enough for most uses, but small enough that it did not
really draw notice, paying for breakfast with a couple of them for a
group this large would be just about right.
Walking into the Flying J's truck stop we were greeted by the sight and
sound of a crowded raucous diners at the breakfast rush. No one paid any
attention to the five of us as we found a booth near the front window to
sit in. Each booth had a little mini TV with headphones and it was
currently tuned to CNN. They were showing footage of a Government
spokesperson type talking to the camera and I put on the headphones to
find out what he was saying.
"--are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous, do not try to
approach them or apprehend them yourself, instead, call the F.B.I. tip
line, and tell the authorities of their whereabouts, immediately.--"
The screen switched to drawings that looked an awful lot like Eddie and I
as we were now. The screen called us domestic terrorists, bioterrorists,
and fugitives. That was rich, considering what they were probably
planning.
"--Links to a hyper feminist anarchist faction plotting the overthrow of
the U.S. Government these women should be considered enemies of the
United States and of the general public good--"
I removed the headphones and turned off the TV.
Luckily, most of the people seemed too busy eating to pay much attention
to either the TV broadcast or us. All the same, I decided to eat my food
and get us out of here as soon as possible. There was no reason to tempt
fate.
Eddie told Cleo, "Well, you called it, the Feds are looking for a brown
haired chick and a redhead, not two brunettes, and they don't seem to
know anyone else is involved. I guess we're in the clear,...for now."
Cassandra told Eddie, "That's only going to last so long, so let's eat
our food, get our stuff, and get the hell out of here. Dave why don't you
take the beast over to the pumps and gas her up, clean the bugs of the
windshield, and round up some groceries from your stack of bills."
Pettit wanted to know, "When did I get the shit jobs?"
"When a Tech Sergeant started being a higher grade of pay than a lance
Corporal, now hustle."
"I'm goin' I'm goin' order me a chicken fried steak with everything,
would'ja, Tech Sergeant?"
"You got it, lance corporal."
I asked Cassandra, "So if you're both out of the military, what was that
all about?"
"Rules of the P.H.S. in the field all former ranks are to be treated as
current to facilitate operations."
"Oh, and that crosses all service boundaries?"
"Yeppers"
"Ah, O.K., then."
At that point a motherly seeming woman with a name tag that read 'Enid'
approached us, and asked us In a folksy manner, "So what can I get for
y'all?"
We all ordered and Cassandra told her, "This will all be on one tab."
Enid answered, "You bet, hon."
And proceeded to tell the cooks what we wanted.
While she was gone, I thought about everything that had happened so far.
My greatest difficulty was the woman who's name I did not know who seemed
hell bent on being a Machiavellian psycho bitch. She was snide,
condescending, and totally dismissive. Then there was Dave Pettit and Dr.
Dwight. Both clearly good men backed by other good men. Then there was
Eddie, pre change and myself prechange. Obviously, men were NOT by
definition evil, as my preconceptions told me. Then too, my rant about
weapons relating to penises. Where the hell had that come from. Logically
there was no basis. Weapons boiled down to two things, sticks, and
stones. And what was a rifle in its purest form, it was a stick that
threw stones.
I had been so thoroughly tied up in my own preconceptions that I had
managed to get my head jammed far up my own ass. This had caused me to
make one of the stupidest moves in human history.
This was all my fault. Everything that happened was my fault. My sister
compared me to Robert Oppenheimer. That was not accurate. He HAD to build
the Bomb, he was trying to win a war, what the hell had I been trying to
do other than please my own self centered ego?
When my plate of eggs, hash browns pancakes and bacon and toast came, I
pushed it away. I was not hungry any more. All I could do was look out on
the dining room full of truckers, families and other travelers and think
about what I in my thoughtless extremism had done to them. They had never
done me any harm and I had possibly ended their world.
How stupidly selfish can one person be?
Cleo looked at me and at my abandoned plate and told me, "Marcia, you
HAVE to eat, you know that. What's wrong?"
"I finally pulled my head out of my ass and now that I have, I finally
realized who I am and what I've done. I'm no hero, no brave vanguard on a
new frontier. I'm the stupid bitch whose name whomever is left will have
every right to curse."
Cassandra stared at me for a few moments, and then told me, "Then you've
got a lot of atoning to do and you can't do that if you fall over in a
hypoglycemic faint, so eat up, Dr."
I took a tentative bit of the hash browns and then hunger overcame self-
recrimination and I tore into my breakfast. Cassandra looked approving
and said, "Good girl, the last thing we need is having to cart you around
as dead weight."
When breakfast was over Cleo paid and we went out to board the 'bago.
Dave Pettit already paid for the gas and more groceries. There were three
state police cruisers pulling in with their lights flashing and I was
worried until they pulled a trucker out of the diner and cracked open his
trailer. Under the pallets of dry good and coffee grounds was more weed
than I had ever seen.
We left with never even a glance from the state troopers.
This only reinforced the advice to drive the speed limit, act normal, and
keep it cool around cops. Unless they actively chase you with flashing
lights and the whole show, assume they're NOT chasing YOU. Becoming
paranoid is bad when you're not a fugitive, but it can be even worse when
you are one.
By now, everyone knows the story. It was broadcast on every news station
and printed in every newspaper.
Everyone knows about Russell Gorjevic.
The woman I called 'Miss Pettigrew' in my mind tapped him for what they
called, The most important mission in America's history.
He was just a young stupid kid that drank the Kool-aid and bought the
whole store. She told him that what he was being asked to do was
something that would mark him as one of America's great heroes.
They gave him my formula, painstakingly reproduced, and the
transformation left him changed in more ways than one.
She air dropped over the city of Tehran and infiltrated their President's
home. The next morning the Islamic republic of Iran was in chaos. That
would have been the end of it, if Russell had not boarded the next flight
to Germany.
She spent the next three days hopping the globe and fucking every man,
she could pants in an alleyway. They caught her in a men's room stall
just as she was climbing off an airport security guard at Kennedy Airport
in New York.
She killed three members of the capture team before they put three
bullets into her.
To this day, no one knows why she did what she did. No one knows how many
men she slept with versus how many men were in the fallout.
I don't know weather it was deliberate on their part or they just mixed
the formula wrong, but now, every changed woman had a hyper libido.
I realized what I had to do as we drove to Taos and I told Eddie,
"Reversing the formula is a nonstarter, in the immediate future, but I
think I can figure out a way to end the communicability of the virus. I
can keep it from being contagious by sex."
When we reached the ranch outside Taos, New Mexico, I gave the P.H.S. the
list of things I would need to generate what I called the "Contagion
breaker." All I had to do was end the communicability, not undo the
virus.
"You can probably do that, for the alpha strain, and maybe even for the
beta and gamma strain, but EACH VICTIM GENERATES A NEW STRAIN!"
"I understand that, Edward, you don't need to scream at me, Wow, are you
ever shrill as a woman. A chain breaker would affect all strains because
it's not attacking the core genome, just the transmitters."
I started working the next day, and stayed hard at it, for two weeks.
Cleo and Eddie kept me from forgetting to eat or sleep and policed my
hygiene when they had to.
The cat was out of the bag with the nude female rapist in Los Angeles.
This was two weeks later with probably hundreds of undocumented
transformees.
The L.A.P.D. caught her in a parking lot on Crenshaw Boulevard. There she
was in a dirty trench coat and nothing else straddling her latest victim
as she held a loaded .38 special in his mouth. They told her to freeze,
and as she, and he climaxed, she spun on the officers with the gun. That
ended her story. A clear case of suicide by cop.
The next night the President of the United States addressed the nation
and told them what was happening. My name was never mentioned. He blamed
it on foreign bioterrorists from an unnamed rouge nation.
By now, no one knew how many men turned women were out there. Unwilling,
unknowing and unaware of the effect of their greatly enhanced sex drives.
Honestly, it was almost as if the virus was determined to perpetuate
itself no matter what.
That was when I realized, that was exactly what it was doing.
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