5 comments/ 57884 views/ 5 favorites The Phycologist: The Experiment By: Kesser Many thanks to again PubliusNaso, his continued assistance is greatly appreciated. * After returning home from the best sex of my life with Bridget (see The Phycologist-The Beginning) I had concluded that I hadn't been sexually attacked and pleasured because of my stud-like qualities (these were sadly missing) but because I had discovered an aphrodisiac, or more accurately Gary's aphrodisiac. Gary had died under strange circumstances. He had left me his factory and a series of clues in his will. The clues had lead me this far. My fingers still smelt of pine nuts. I thought this could be the smell of the aphrodisiac which drove Brigit mad with sexual passion. I resolved to test this theory on my new neighbour: 'The Ice Queen'. I had christened her 'The Ice Queen' for the obvious reasons that she appeared cold and unobtainable, and also because her beauty made her regal. She was blonde (natural? I hoped to be able to prove that soon) and this connected Scandinavia and ice in my mind. It was difficult to pick her best feature (most women would kill for any bit of her) but perfect as she was I always appeared to have difficulty lifting my eyes from her breasts. Her breasts were full (I guessed two standard handfuls) but were so beautifully shaped, almost spherical, they appeared to defy the gravity which affected the rest of the population. Yet the most alluring feature of these magnificent breasts were her nipples. Not only did they appear always semi-erect, but they were positioned so high on these heavenly mounds. Every time I saw her I had an almost overwhelming desire to explore her bosom in an attempt to explain this perfection. Her body however was not merely a vehicle to transport these magnificent breasts, it too was perfect. She was about 5' 9" and athletically slender. She was probably heavier than anorexic fashion dictated, but if that was so it was caused by muscle not fat. To my eye, she was ideally proportioned: long slender legs, with natural muscular definition, which didn't need high heels to accentuate; a thoroughly grabable arse perfectly curved from her upper thigh (her arse was another gravity-defying feature).. Her stomach was flat. Her arms shared the same muscular definition as her legs. She had a long slender neck which mounted, haloed with almost white blonde wavy hair, the most beautiful face. Her eyes were translucent blue. Her skin was healthily pale. It seemed the sun kissed her perfection rather than darken it. All of these features were connected, as if by a architect, with perfect French curves. This woman was superb, only using the word perfect eight times in a description of her was to sell her short. If my theory was correct I would soon be carnally experiencing this heavenly body. It was 3 am when I drove into the car park, wondering how I was to meet the Ice Queen at this time in the morning. I needed to contact her before this smell of pine nuts disappeared. Looking up to her apartment window, I thought I saw a dark shape moving on the fire escape, and suddenly I had my excuse to 'knock her up' (both meanings were valid) at 3 am. I climbed the stairs to her apartment, approaching her door I decided that one loud knock would be better than many softer ones, so pretending I was a 'drug squad bust' I bashed the door so hard the frame rattled. Surprising quickly I saw an eye flash over the spy hole, followed by an angry "What!!" "I'm your neighbour" my confidence was beginning to slip. "I know. What?" she was persistent as well as good looking. "I've just got home and saw someone on the fire escape outside your window" I said The locks on the door started clicking: there must have been about six (she was a worried lady, this one)! "Come in!". She almost grabbed me by the shirt, such was her urgency to have me enter her apartment. She then refastened all the locks (there were seven!). She turned to face me, she was so pale she was almost translucent and she was visibly shaking. It was the closest I had been to her, and such was her distress that I didn't even look at her physical attributes. She then fell into my arms and started crying. I held her for a long time, trying to ignore the feel of her breasts and semi erect nipples. She obviously needed help, not rooting. She gradually composed herself. Pushing herself away from my chest, she said "It's my ex-boyfriend. He was so insanely jealous I could no longer live with him. Even though I've tried everything to hide myself, he has obviously found me". She broke down into tears again and snuggled back into my chest, which was clearly a haven for her. I felt like a louse. If I had guessed I'd do this much damage to her composure I could have delayed my experiment. I could have gone to Gary's lab later got some more aphrodisiac and tested my theory another day. Still, I couldn't leave her like this. I would have to see if I could repair some of the damage I had done. When her crying stilled a little, I held her shoulders, and pushed her away from my chest, I looked into her eyes, trying hard not to be sexually affected by her beauty. I reached up and brushed the tears from her eyes. She seemed to sniff and pause briefly. Her face seemed suddenly become infused with colour, as if a pot of pink paint had been spilt over her face. Her eyes brightened and sparkled, and for the second time that morning I was devoured by hungry eyes, She turned, in the fall of a tear, from a susceptible, frightened, exposed child to a brazen, warm, wanton woman. Even though this was what I had wanted from her, my phycologist's brain was finding it hard to adjust to this change, and how her pain had so quickly been submerged. The sound of her falling dressing gown as it slid to the floor, and the view of her naked body soon got my thoughts back to 'sexual'. My earlier attempts at describing her perfection were woefully inadequate in face of the reality, but I was not allowed long to study her form. She was quickly on me, part undoing and part tearing my clothing from my body. I thought Brigit was a tiger, but this performance made her more of a pussy cat. "God, you are beautiful" she snarled " how could I have wasted time crying, when your body is here to use?" Grabbing my prick, none too gently, she said "Use this on me NOW!" She attempted to mount me whilst we were standing, amazingly our heights matched exactly for this activity, she was so moist that she slid on me like an fireman sliding down a greasy pole. Fucking while standing is pretty difficult. She solved this difficulty by swinging her hips sideways, like a pendulum. "Make me come, Make me come" she repeated so often it seemed to become a mantra. The full view of her body and access to her magnificent breasts were denied me by her athletic use of my erection, so, brushing her long hair off her face, I kissed her eyes and cheeks and worked past her mouth to her neck. The 'make me come' mantra was replaced by "keep doing it, keep doing it". She was clearly close to climaxing. Her smooth action had become a little erratic, as if she was being distracted by her mounting pleasure. She leaned away from me, and grabbing my hands, she brought them to her breasts. I thought she was going to come alone, but the feel of those mounds which far surpassed anything I could have imagined flicked a switch, and I was now trying to hold back to extend the pleasure of fondling her. Her breasts were firm but amazingly soft. In kneading her I brushed my thumbs over her nipples which responded manfully by hardening like little missiles. Her groans which had been in the background for a while became louder, and louder. She placed her hands over mine forcing them almost brutally into her breasts, and as she screamed her climax, so did I, my voice joined hers in a shout of ecstasy. Usually a quiet lover, I screamed and moaned with her as our coming seemed never to become a going. Our caterwauling decreased with our erotic pleasure, but even after we had become silent, the pleasure from our coupling continued more as erotic warmth, than the earlier sheer soul-bending pleasure. Eventually we stopped and just held each other. Experimentally I let her smell my fingers again by running my fingers around her beautiful face and under her nose. The effect was almost instant, there was no doubt now that Gary had invented an aphrodisiac. She grabbed my hand, and pulled me like an errant child into her bedroom. She dug her heel into the carpet, and athletically swivelled on it, like she was doing the shot put. Centrifugal force was added to the linear motion which she had already initiated in my body. The effect of these combined forces slingshotted me onto her bed, I felt like a crash dummy in a controlled car crash. Thank goodness the bed was soft. Before I had regained my composure she was on top of me "Lets fuck again" she said I might be a bit old-fashioned, and I was certainly in no great need of another fucking, so I said. "Hey slow down a bit, we haven't even been introduced" The incongruity of this statement struck me as soon as it left my lips. This was the most gorgeous female I had ever seen, including all the models, cover girls and porn queens which had ever stared at me from the pages of magazines or the television screen. And I was refusing to fuck her because I didn't know her name "Regina" she said "now lets fuck!" "Sure" I said, with a swagger that Errol Flynn would have been proud of. "My name is Karl" "Karl, you are fucking beautiful. God I don't ever remember coming like that before. Let's do it again. Now!" Even her parents knew she was going to look like a queen: the name 'Regina' was so appropriate. These thoughts soon disappeared. The ability of my brain to operate above the navel was being quickly eroded by her tongue, which with unerring accuracy was exploring the erogenous zone on my stomach. She then added a light touch to the erogenous zone on my inner thigh. The touch was so gentle, barely there, just like a gentle breeze. It was doubly erotic because of its gentleness. I had already come three times in the last 4 hours, and not just cast my seed to the wind, but had sex that was both fulfilling and demanding, my balls were communicating by their ache that much as they enjoyed this activity they needed a holiday. Fatigued though my balls might be, it was clear that Regina was going to have them working again, and soon. My mind could not disassociate itself from Regina's tongue and fingers. Just when it was becoming super intense, she swapped her mouth and her fingers. She moved her gently stroking fingers from my thigh to my stomach, and took her mouth to work my thigh. In passing she tongued my foreskin, licking down my shaft lingering briefly with her tongue and hot breath on my balls. Licking and sucking around my balls she ran her tongue almost to my anus, and toyed with the skin immediately beneath my sac. This was magnificent, so many erotic things had been happening to me this morning I was running out of superlatives. My balls liked this treatment so much that they immediately voted to settle their dispute, and forgo their holiday demand. They forgave Regina for the overtime that she was causing them, and decided they would go on working without penalty rates, but slowly. The 'go slow' that the Testicular Workers Union had introduced allowed me to revel in this erotic pleasure. Normally I would have shot my wad ages ago. I began to imagine my hands once again on Regina's superb breasts, as soon as the image formed in my mind Regina moved her busy tongue from my thigh, pausing to enjoy the taste of my balls and foreskin. She then slowly and smoothly snail trailed her tongue from my shaft exploring my body contours on her way to my nipples. She sucked my left nipple into her mouth, and at the point of maximum suction, she broke the seal her lips had formed so that the air she inhaled flowed past my wet nipple chilling the area. This sudden change of temperature was electric. All my hair stood on end and my body convulsed in one synchronized shiver. This shiver seemed to find and excite every erotic receptor in my body, god I had no idea sex could be so pleasurable, I was more used to grinding and shooting. Up until Gary's aphrodisiac, sex for me had been mostly hydraulic, merely an opportunity to exchange body fluids. Regina then switched to my right nipple, with similar electric effect. She spent time alternating between nipples, at the time when the feelings she was creating had dulled to superb, she moved her tongue to my neck. Her tongue was not the only organ leaving a snail trail: my mind had become aware of a chilled area on my leg which had been made damp by the copious juices flowing from her pussy as she slid up my body. My mind switched its focus to the passage of her pussy lips, which had now moved over the base of my balls and was sliding up my shaft which was still enjoying the lubrication cause by the previous passage of her mouth. Smoothly the lips of her vulva sandwiched my shaft inching ever upwards. Her clitoris was engorged enough for me to feel it passing over the head of my penis, this was followed by her moist valley, then the cavern of her sexuality. My thoughts were very pussycentric, but her hungry eating of my neck intruded briefly until she reversed the motion of her vagina, and as neatly as a driving instructor demonstrating a reverse park, she slid slowly onto my shaft. Her saliva previously so erotically delivered had begun to evaporate acting like a mini air conditioner. I had not noticed how chilled my penis had become until it encountered the warmth of her vagina, slowly sliding down to my balls which sadly acted as a door stop. How I would have enjoyed being fully sucked into that warm, moist, sweet smelling piece of heaven? The image of my hand slowing waving as it followed the rest of my body into her dark cavern was dispelled by the pleasure of her slowly riding my shaft. The heat flowed out from her, warming my chilled member magnifying the pleasure her soft friction was causing. Sinking once again on my shaft she sat fully erect. "Would you fondle my breasts please, like before" she said. This was the first time since she ripped my clothes off that I had had the pleasure of feasting my eyes on her naked form. As promising as the previous brief glimpse had been, it had not prepared me for the actuality. She was magnificent! I reached for her breasts. I experimentally cupped one of her mounds in two hands, to gauge her size. She was a little bigger than two standard handfuls (the standard hand of course was mine). I gently flicked the high nipples on her perky breasts. I chased the valley which formed the change of contour between her breast and chest, fully around the circumference of each of her glorious mounds. I dragged my nails lightly from her chest to her stomach, and was rewarded with a groan of pleasure, and her upper body shivered, demonstrating its pleasure by a show of goosebumps from her neck to where my hands had stopped. I continued to caress Regina's upper body, enjoying the feel of her flesh. Her skin was smooth. Even though the work out we had enjoyed, and were still enjoying, was strenuous, her skin was free of perspiration. My hands glided, as if lubricated. The texture of her skin was incredible: it seemed alive in its response to my touch. It was soft yet I could feel the strong muscular base which provided an underlying firmness. My busy hands enjoyed the feel of all of the flesh I could touch, returning often like magnets to her breasts, where I fondled and pinched her nipples, cupped and caressed her breasts before exploring once again the wonderful feel of her taut skin. Regina, whilst I was exploring her upper body, had maintained her slow use of my penis her motion metronomic in its precision. Letting my hands seek their own pleasure, I watched her face, it was beauty personified. I looked at her eyes which were closed her wrinkleless features were betrayed by a crinkling at the corners of her eyes which revealed a smile of pleasure. Her full mouth was slightly open, her lips moistened by her tongue. Her neck undulated with the motions of her hips. Her economical motions increased in their tempo, now accompanied by a erotic groan on each downstroke. The smile at the corner of her eyes deepened, at the end of each groan, her tongue darted out, snakelike, to moisten her lips. Her blonde hair, which broke into curls a few inches from her scalp, provided the perfect palette for her changing facial expressions. As her smile extended further her groans increased in volume and intensity. The metronomic motion of her hips broke, signalling the beginning of her orgasm. She rode my shaft like a horse-breaker working to extend and intensify her orgasm. Her upper body motion increased such that her breasts became involved, rocking firmly up and down. I now only had to hold my hands still to titillate her nipples, but chose instead to drop my hand to her hips, and help her ride me. I began to thrust in opposition to her movement, and like someone had turned up a light dimmer her facial expressions expanded. She was now panting between groans. She was clearly close to the peak of her continued orgasm. Her pleasure continued to excite me. She clearly sensed my greater excitement and leant forward and kissed me. Her pussy was still working hard, in fact harder with each stroke. She licked and drew my lips into her mouth with suction, I reciprocated and her pussy got busier. We continued exchanging kisses, which together with her skilful pussywork caused my balls to boil and eventually succumb to the inevitable, delivering a forceful stream of seed. Regina, feeling my climax, rode me down off my peak, then collapsed on top of me exhausted. We both enjoyed the blissful afterglow of our orgasms and felt our sexual receptors gradually closing down, so that sexual pleasure was gradually replaced by the warmth of each others' bodies in our continued embrace. I was awoken by the undulating motion of Regina's hips. It was now light outside so a couple of hours had elapsed. Her head had fallen from my shoulder to my hand, she had obviously had a good sniff of the aphrodisiac and was ready to go again. Amazingly, I was still hard, and was still encapsulated by the warmth of her vagina, which once again was in motion. I felt tired, sweaty, and used. I hadn't been in control of too much that had happened to me. I really wanted a shower, and the ability to process the events that had turned me into an apparent sex idol. Regina stopped her grinding. She sat up pulling me with her, she motioned that I should swing my legs off the bed, and stand up, which I did. As I stood she wrapped her legs around my body so that we remained connected. "Let's go and have a shower" she said Here was another coincidence which needed thought, but what the heck. She was beautiful. Fatigued or not the subtle motion of her pussy on my shaft as we walked to the bathroom moved me from hard to rigid. We arrived at the shower stall, set the water to match our mood – hot, and stepped in. The shower was roomy enough for two. In fact I wonder at the motives of the person who built it. She gripped me with her vaginal muscles and on releasing her sexual grip then pulled herself further on my shaft by gripping her leg muscles. She repeated and alternated these muscular movements. The effect on my shaft was not describable by words, only by grunts of pleasure. Whilst my, refreshed by sleep, penis was responding eagerly to this treatment, she reached for the soap, and started lathering my upper body, I came rather more quickly than I wanted. My balls were obviously trying to make up for their previous industrial action. The Phycologist: The Experiment Regina sensed my climax, by pressing her magnificent breasts firmly into my chest as she kissed me, sucking and licking around my lips. She maintained these opposed motions of her pussy to milk the last ounce of orgasmic pleasure from me. Eventually Regina lifted herself off my shaft, and smiled as she handed me the bar of soap. "Your turn" she said. I needed no prompting. I spun her around so that her back was in the shower stream, and watched as the water flowed over her shoulder, and fell gently over her breasts and formed little waterfalls off her super-erect nipples. I fell to my knees, and slurped the little rivers back up to her breasts, caressing each nipple in turn with my tongue. Alternating her nipples in my mouth, I caressed her mound. I slipped my finger into her moist valley, letting it slide from her engorged clitoris to her vaginal entrance where I allowed my finger to cheekily and briefly enter before retracing its previous passage passing over her nub both on the upward and downward strokes to once again enter her passage. She orgasmed quickly, probably influenced by what remained of the aphrodisiac on my fingers rather than the gentle friction I was causing up and down her pussy, but the effect was the same. She grabbed and pushed my head into her breasts, (fortunately there was enough air beneath those glorious appendages) as she ground against my finger. I tantalisingly refused to leave it in her passage, but maintained my previous stroking, her actions led me to believe this was both antagonising and erotic. Her hips gyrated hypnotically as she tried to follow the actions of my fingers up and down her sweet valley. We played this, chasing the finger, game until eventually her orgasm subsided, she thrust my head from her breasts, and pulled my lips to hers, after a deep kiss she said. "I hope you haven't lost the soap." "What would you like me to do with it?", I asked "That's up to you", she said with a wicked smile. We switched positions again in the shower to avoid my artistic latherwork being destroyed by the water. I let my lathered hand caress her body. I started at her neck, over her shoulders, onto her breasts. Running my hands around her contours, down to her stomach and back to her breasts again tracing the full curve of her mounds I flicked her nipples on my way back to her neck. I persisted in this cycle. I then ran my hands round to her back and pulled her lathered body to mine. I felt the light silken touch of her breasts lubricated by the lather slide along my chest. When our bodies touched she swivelled at the hips so her nipples flicked mine on passing like windshield wipers. Seeing the potential, she stepped out of my embrace, borrowed the soap and lubricated herself, and then set to washing my body using her lathered breasts. She ran her soft, firm globes around my neck and down my chest. I felt light slippery touch of her breast all over my upper body. We turned off the water, as we were having to form ever more athletic positions to achieve full coverage, and we didn't want the suds destroyed. Our bodies were covered in bubbles. I joined in the game too, using my penis as a sponge. We exchanged ever more adventurous passes of our organs over each others bodies. She slithered her breasts down my body, briefly trapping my shaft between them. She then slipped between my legs and brought her breast up the crack of my arse, I felt the passage of her nipple over my anus, feeling my approval she ran her nipple up and down my crack, standing up she replaced her nipple with a lathered hand. Not to be outdone I reciprocated using my penis as a loofah, scrubbing from her neck down her body. While passing under her arm she trapped my shaft by squeezing her arm close to her body. The slippery qualities of the soap made it feel like a pussy. I briefly ground her armpit before spinning her around. Pushing her upper body forward I then ran my slippery dick up and down the crack of her arse. This game continued, with us both trying to outdo each other. Eventually the sexuality seemed to be disappearing from our continued contact. It was becoming just a game. The valour had disappeared from my shaft. It was the first time since midnight that I remember it being soft (some more thinking to do). We eventually tired of our athleticism now that it had lost its sexual context. We washed off the suds and stepped out of the shower to towel each other dry. I thought this might re-arouse the sexual passion. Pleasant though the activity was, it did not. I guess the last of the aphrodisiac had been washed off. Looking at Regina, the blissful smile that she had been wearing non stop since she first sniffed my fingers had slipped from her features. A crease had developed between her eyes. A crease on her face seemed like a physical affront. I touched her face and attempted to lightly smooth the imperfection away with my fingers, she said. "What about my boyfriend?" The spell was broken, it was back to business. "You go back to bed" I said, as I gathered and put on those clothes that still had buttons "I'll look around to see if there is any trace of an intruder, I'll look back in shortly to let you know." "I won't go to bed," she responded, "I'll make coffee and see you in a bit" My concern had done more to eliminate the crease between her eyes than my finger. I set out to explore. Thinking I would replace my damaged clothing before I explored the perimeter of her apartment, I let myself into my own apartment. I was met by a surprise. The intruder was not part of my imagination. The mess I saw as I entered attested to his violent physical presence in my apartment. My room would have made a teenager's room look pristine. It appeared that nothing had been left unopened, and everything which had been opened had been emptied. I felt violated, I hadn't realised what a valuable commodity privacy was. The theft of my privacy was a bigger loss to me than anything which could have been stolen from my room. I shut the door, and went back to Regina's for coffee. On entering Regina's apartment she seemed as equally concerned about the furrow between my eyes as I had previously been for her. She took me in her arms, not sexually, but supportively. "What's the matter?" she said "have you seen a ghost?" "Good news for you," I responded sharply (and then regretted my tone). "It wasn't your boyfriend sneaking around here last night. It was an intruder who has absolutely wrecked my room, my belongings, and my sense of security." I began to understand why she was so shaken earlier this morning when she thought her security was threatened. I began to feel like a louse again for what I had done to her. We sat and had coffee. Whilst she was no longer the Ice Queen in my mind (how could she be?) the sexual thing had gone, she behaved like a concerned neighbour. Still feeling lousy, I took my leave as soon as was polite, gathered some belongings and set off to the apartment Gary had built before his death, in the factory which I now owned. I got to the factory. Gary didn't have as many locks as Regina but his were much better quality. Before this morning however three locks had seemed excessive. Now I thought I might add some more. My worst fears were not supported. No one had entered here. I quickly moved to the alarm panel to disable the alarm (Gary had passed on the complex code with the keys to the factory). The alarm panel was displaying the message 'Attempted Entry Zone 2 & 4'. I found this message strangely reassuring, 'you're not getting in here , you bastard', I thought. I suddenly felt immensely tired, even drained. Sleep was the only option: I had after all been rooting since midnight. I had probably come more times in the last eight hours than I had in the previous year. I lay on the bed and was quickly asleep. I woke in the early afternoon, much refreshed. My memories of Brigit and Regina seemed like the remnants of a dream: it couldn't possibly be true. Yet unlike dream residual all the details were crisp and clear, and came with smells. I was also able to relive my feelings and my penis stirred. There was no doubt this had happened. I went back out into the factory to explore. I would look at the 'attempted entry violation' later, at the moment I was driven to discover more about the aphrodisiac. I went immediately to the CD which was sticky with what I now knew to be an aphrodisiac, and studied it. Gary would have placed a message here somewhere, as this is where the last clue ended. I studied the closed CD and found nothing. Looking inside, also nothing jumped out and bit me. I thought I would wander around and take stock of what I knew or suspected about the action of Gary's Magic Formula, I resolved to call it GMF in honour of its inventor. Clearly GMF stimulated women's sexual desire to a point where immediate satisfaction was demanded. It might also quicken their orgasmic response. It seemed to endow the female 'victim?' with the ability to feel what the 'wearer' wanted sexually. Both Brigit and Regina had found unerringly my erogenous zones, and seemed to meet my wildest sexual fantasies. While I wore GMF I stayed hard, until the time I washed it off. There was probably more that I hadn't discovered yet. Any one of these features would be worth a fortune commercially. There had emerged a clear profit motive for Gary's death, and now someone was after me. My room wrecker was probably also Gary's killer. I went back to the CD. This time I noticed the name of the track 'Ultra Violet' was subtly underlined. Looking around I saw a magnifying lens with various lighting options. Ultra violet was one (they are quite common in chemical labs). I positioned the CD case under the lens and selected ultra violet light. A message was revealed:. ChChOHx6.66??? ChCh6.66??? Ch6.66 The treble sixes struck my immediate attention. this was the Devil's number. I began to piece together all I knew of Satanism. I even wondered If Gary had sold his soul to gain the formula. I dismissed this thought quickly. Gary was much smarter than the devil. He had his IQ rated at 167, he said doing the IQ test was like answering children's questions. He modestly added that geniuses cannot be assessed by their mental inferiors (I was pleased some time later to spot the logical flaw in this argument but unfortunately I never got round to tackling Gary with it before he died). Gary wasn't a braggard, he had an instantaneous grasp of the myriad possibilities which surrounded every event, and was able to juggle and interpose them to achieve what looked to others appeared to be startling insights When Gary explained his thought processes to me, as he often did, his observations were not insights but, to him, obvious conclusions. We played mental games often when we worked together in the lab, and I wasn't too bad at it. I was never truly convinced that Gary wasn't humouring me. The clues I was following to gain the message Gary had chosen to leave were obviously designed to maximise my talents, and not be able to be followed by others. Then I noticed a small dot above the last six. If this meant the number was recurring then the answer could be at hand. Three multiplied by 6.66 recurring totalled a neat 20, so I added the columns, giving me: 3Ch2ChOHx20 I wondered if I was on the right track and then it dawned on me that if I corrected the notation to CH3CH2OH x 20 It became the chemical formula for ethyl alcohol. I assumed that I was to dissolve the substance on the CD in 20 times its weight of ethyl alcohol. Looking around the lab, ostentatiously (and incongruously) placed, now I knew what I was looking for, was a container of ethyl alcohol (well, actually a bottle of Stolichnaya Vodka). Taped to its lid was a perfume atomiser. I was certain I was on the right track, but just in case I took two small scrapings from the CD and placed them each in a separate petri dish, and tucked them away. I then measured 19 times the weight of the CD (I adjusted for the samples) in a dish and dunked the CD in, covering it carefully to avoid evaporation. I decide to reward myself with cup of coffee, whilst the alcohol worked. I was becoming a caffeine addict. I smiled to myself that I had always tried to use alcohol by itself as an aphrodisiac (with mixed success) but that it had taken Gary to take the chemical's effects to its conclusion. Whilst drinking my coffee I mused about the sequence of clues I had followed so far, and realised that, by chance someone could have joined the clue cycle at the CD rather than at the beginning with the biblical reference. This was sloppy work which Gary would not have been capable of. Gary often said that the reason most people missed the obvious was that once an item, substance or idea had yielded its secret it was discarded. Gary claimed where one secret existed there were many. In our lab work together he would frequently return to areas many would have assumed had yielded all they had to give. Gary claimed he was a different person to the one that gained the original knowledge, and because of his growth in knowledge he could unlock further insights. Walking back to my alcohol infusion, reinforced once again with my coffee fix, I realised that with Gary's mental grasp, there should have been something to stop a chance entry into the clue stream at the CD. I would have to fully review the cycle. I found a pair of lab gloves, to handle the aphrodisiac. Apart from being excited by GMF potential I was also quite frightened. I had been lucky in only experiencing the positive effects. What would happen if the wearer passed a women's basketball team, or visited a young mother's club, or worse still an old aged home? It was difficult to suppress the image of being attacked by a gang of dried out, saggy breasted geriatrics. Even worse was the thought that it could work on men. Despite the rumour that circulated around Gary and me, we were both heavily heterosexual. Suddenly it occurred to me that Gary's dead body had been found surrounded by different styles and sizes of ladies' underwear. Had his heart attack been caused by the sexual excitement of a gang bang, rather than a sinister intruder? I resolved, whilst I decanted the mixture, that I would not use GMF again until I had been able to assess the potential negative side of Gary's invention. I found a quiet corner to store the decantation and labelled it GMF. I couldn't help thinking that a safe would have been better. I poured a little into the perfume atomiser, and my penis, rather than my brain, demanded that I put the atomiser in my pocket. As a result of my previous thoughts I circled the lab, revisiting the sites of the previous clues, to no major effect. On returning to the CD I picked it up to return it to its case. it was no longer sticky. By chance it caught the light and revealed what could have been writing. It was definitely not there before. Obviously there had been an interaction with the alcohol. I went back to the magnifying glass and with its aid I was able to discern the words 'sock drawer'. Trying the ultra violet lighting again, I could just see the feint outline of a word that could have said 'review'. I was quite offended by the 'review' as I had already come to that conclusion, but if Gary felt it needed stating, then it was obvious that to proceed the previous clues had further meaning. 'Sock drawer.' Hmm. Another Garyism was 'never overlook the obvious', so I searched for his sock drawer. I found a drawer full of socks in a dresser in the corner of the lab Gary used as a Bedroom. He didn't like to be away from his work. Part of the reason we worked such long hours in the lab at Uni was that Gary didn't like to go home. At the bottom of the drawer, covered but not hidden, was a shopping list. If this was a clue, it was another chance entry point, I began to worry about my ability to keep this thing going. The list it looked like this: Samarium 2 – Large pairs undr wear 4 – Regular DRESSr socks 10 – Large handkerchiefs 5 – Regular singlets 7 – Large T-Shirts void Samarium. I seemed to recall is a rare earth metal, an element discovered in about the mid 19th century. Gary's reference books proved me to be right. The chemical symbol was Sm. It was named after a Russian mine official named Samarski. (Clearly, chemists sucked up to officials even in the eighteen-fifties). The chemical symbol for iron is Fe. I started with the symbols because Gary loved making words from them, so I had SmFe. What about the I read the alarm manual, only to discover by Gary's scrawled notes that he had reprogrammed it. What additional features he had added was anyone's guess. I dicovered it was connected to his desk computer, and had permanent video surveillance around the building perimeter. After a considerable period of trial and error, I managed to get a grainy video picture of the person who attempted entry last night. The Phycologist: The Experiment It showed no detail at all, it was too dark. I remembered Gary had installed external lighting, so I searched, found the controls, and switched them on. At least if he (or she?) returned I might gain a useful image. Looking again at the clock it was 7.45pm. I would just have time to meet Brigit. I pondered, and concluded what the heck, even though she was not in Regina's league for beauty she had a certain allure and a beautiful smile. I arrived at the service station at 8.01pm, she was leaning on the counter waiting for me. Her smile was as wonderful as I remembered, although a little guarded. "Let's go" she said as she linked arms with me, and walked me to my car. She directed me to her apartment. After driving for a little while she said "Karl, stop just over there". I did. "Right, you bastard, what did you do to me this morning? I don't respond sexually in that way. We are outside the police station, so you'd better start explaining or I'm going in there to report a rape!" Clearly I had a bit of talking to do! The story will continue in 'The Phycologist – Moral Dilemma' The preceding story was 'The Phycologist –The Beginning'