Chapter 4 - Sample

A week passed.

“... Tell me this is for a good cause,” groused One, as a sterile cotton swatch was carefully rubbed along her jowls.

“There's got to be some kind of scientific explanation for what's been going on,” Donnie told her, as he finished swabbing and secured the sample for testing in his lab. “We did agree that whatever's going on is unusual.”

“You didn't seem to mind,” Three teased impishly.

A flicker of the three-way ran through Donnie's head before being quelled. He had to keep a clear head. “Don't worry, I'm sure there's an easy explanation.”

One sighed in annoyance. “I might worry less if it weren't for your 'safety protocols'.” Her hands raised up in air quotes before gesturing to Donnie. Cotton swatch held in a clamp, tied to the end of his staff, which he was holding by the very far end, at full arm stretch. With heavy gloves. And a gas mask.

They were spread out across the apartment, One by the window, Two on the sofa, Three by the front door, and Four sitting at the kitchen counter. All safely apart from each other to avoid cross-contamination. Donnie was standing near the middle of the room, doing his best not to come at all close to any of them. To avoid... uh... contamination. Yeah. “C'mon, we're close to finished, here.”

Four spoke up in a calming tone, “We did agree to let Donnie test us. Let's just keep going.”

As the others muttered assent, Donnie finished sealing the latest sample in a petri dish and labeling it, stowing it away in the cooler he brought before standing up and jotting down some details on a notepad. “Okay, ladies, let's finish with test material number six...”

Each of the clones picked up the last of a stack of petri dishes Donnie had given them at the start of the test, inside of which were bits of material. As they opened their dishes, they held them up close to their noses and took a deep inhale...

The room was immediately filled with the sound of coughing and gagging. “Ugh! Donnie! What the heck is this? Smells like sewer water!” Two demanded.

“I think my nose hairs are on fire!” Three managed between gags.

“So,” Donnie said, looking carefully around the room, pen and pad at the ready, “What would be your empirical reaction to the material?”

“Do dry heaves count?” One told him.

Donnie made a note of it, along with the other clones' reactions. He did this carefully and calmly, doing his best not to break out in a jig right there in front of them, even though he was whooping it up inside. Test material six was Casey's old gym towel. 'Goongala' that, you testosterone-overdosing idiot! After taking notes, Donnie once again swabbed their jawline with cotton swatches. He'll be quite interested to see if they had any physical reaction to the pungent towel.

Sealing the last sample in it's petri dish and labeling it, Donnie stowed it away in the cooler, adding the clamp from his staff, and closed it. “Okay, I'll just run these back to the lab and run some tests on them...” Straightening up, he started to turn to go...

Four was right there. In front of him. “Donnie, are you really sure this is a good idea?”

“Uh...” Donnie took a step back. “What do you mean? This is just a scientific study...”

Four stepped forward, staying right with him. “I know, but what if the other Turtles notice what you're doing? Have you told them about us?”

The thought of explaining what he'd been doing these long nights 'on patrol' to his brothers filled him with dread. Leo would insist on telling April about the existence of her clones. Raph would probably tease Donnie mercilessly. Mikey... would probably randomly spit it out to April and Master Splinter. While talking on a P.A. System. To the whole city. “No. And they won't notice. As far as they know, I'll just be tinkering in the lab.”

“They just leave you in there?” Four's words were coming softer, more thready. “All alone? Wouldn't you prefer some... company?”

“Well, I'm just used to it.” Donnie tried to step back again, but Four stepped forward almost exactly at the same moment. Something was wrong about her eyes... “Really. I should... get back. Run some tests.”

“To see why we can't keep our hands off each other?” Four asked, pouting slightly. “Is it such a bad thing?”

“Uh... it... I don't...” Donnie stammered. Words didn't want to make it out of his mouth right now.

Her eyes tried to focus on his, though with the dark lenses of the gas mask, she clearly couldn't quite lock on. But Donnie's eyes were on hers. He was breathing faster. Panting, really. The mask was stifling. Can he breathe? Yes, the sanitized air was flowing. Can't breathe. Mask. Stays on...

Four's fingers were gripping the dangling filter of the mask, tugging upwards on it. She was flushed, breathing hard, those short breaths that would feel so warm on his skin. Donnie raised a hand, quickly batting her arm away, taking hold of the filter to make sure the mask was secure... Then had to fight the urge to rip it off. It's grabbing his face, crushing his head, trying to stick something in his mouth. Get it off! Face-hugger alien!! Four suddenly grabbed his head, trying to tug the mask away...

“Four! Four, STOP!” Four's hands were suddenly pulled away as One and Three grabbed onto her. She struggled as they tried to restrain her. Donnie staggered backwards, stumbling and landing on his butt on the floor. He struggled a bit more with himself, then managed to fight down the urge to take his gas mask off and instead checked to make sure it was well in-place. After his self-check, he looked back at Four, still being held by One and Three. She was whimpering a bit, thrusting her chest out towards him, sweat trickling down her face. And was that a wet spot on her shorts? But even as Donnie looked, she seemed to settle down, coming back to herself.

Two, standing nearby with a concerned look on her face, seemed to come to a realization. “Donnie. Sample.” She held her hand out to him. Catching on quickly, Donnie quickly got the cooler back open, grabbing a sterile cotton swatch and putting it in the clamp before handing it to Two. Stepping over to Four, still being lightly restrained by the others, Two made a quick pass over her jawline before holding it out for Donnie to catch in a fresh dish.

Not knowing what to call it, once sealed Donnie just labeled it with a double question mark before stowing it. “I-I should go. Really go.” He quickly opened the window, pausing only to look back over his shoulder to Four. “I'm sorry. For... just, sorry.”

With that, he swept out of their apartment, across the roof, and a couple blocks away before stopping to yank his gas mask clean off his head. Gasping for air, and dispelling the last shades of 'my gas mask is trying to kill me' feelings. Sitting down, his breathing relaxing with lung-fulls of fresh air, Donnie looked over the mask in his hands. He could have sworn he felt it squirming against his head. In a way that brought to mind tentacles and sticky webbing, feeling slimy against his skin. But that was all he'd felt. No sudden need to grab Four and strip her clothes off. Even though that's clearly what she had wanted him to do. The gas mask was the focus. If he'd followed his instincts and yanked the mask off...

Donnie looked down at the cooler next to him. Then, a determined look on his face, he picked it up and started running across the rooftops again. He needed his lab.

Much later, he looked over the results he'd gathered so far. He'd gotten seven swatches from each of the April clones. The first was a baseline, without any specific input from him. The others were immediately after they'd taken deep whiffs of some fabric materials he'd brought along to test their reactions. The first two samples were essentially placebos, a cotton swatch with distilled water on it, and another that had been dipped in the algae tank here in the lair. They didn't react to the water, with a barely-registering positive reaction to the algae tank.

The third was a bit of Raph's hand wrappings, collected after a long training session. Fourth was Donnie's hand wrappings. Fifth was a bit of cloth that had been rubbed against Spider Bytez... Donnie didn't want to think about having to get those samples. Not only did he repeatedly get called 'frog', Spider Bytez had threatened a restraining order. Jerk... And, of course, six was 'Swamp Gas' Casey. Heh heh. He also had their empirical reactions to each sample written down.

The clones' samples told an interesting story. They didn't react to Raph any more than they did the algae tank, saying it just smelled 'sweaty'. Spider Bytez had actually gotten less of a reaction than water. Apparently he didn't smell like anything. Something of a comfort, that. And Casey's sample had still less reaction, evoking nausea in the clones. But that might be because the towel had been a bit 'fermented' when Donnie had found it. His own wrappings? They had reacted strongly to it, apparently enjoying the smell. Their samples were very positive. But they hadn't described the smell as sexual, or like anything that might be connected to sex.

Tapping his pen on the clipboard he had gathered his notes on, Donnie thought about what this could mean. And then he remembered. There was one last sample. Taking that last petri dish out of the cooler, he contemplated the double question mark on it for a moment, before carefully breaking the seal and taking the swatch out with tweezers to be tested.

When the result came back, it was positive. In fact, it was so positive it broke the scale. And the memory came back to him of Four struggling against the others, eyes turning glassy with need, pussy leaking enough to wet her shorts. Why did she react that strongly? Yeah, he was right there, and probably sweating bullets as she threatened to break the safety protocol, not to mention maybe breaking furniture with frenzied sex. Going for his dick and enticing it out of hiding before ripping her short shorts off and getting her pussy onto his hard rod, not caring what got broken in the process. Even right there in front of the others. Let 'em watch. She didn't care, she was getting laid. Let the world watch as she rode Donnie's dick to climax...

She could have done it. If she'd gotten the mask off.

“The mask,” Donnie muttered. “I wanted to take the mask off...” Four hadn't touched his skin. He couldn't smell her through the gas mask. He didn't need to grab her shoulders, push her against the wall, kissing her roughly as his dick rose up to prod her stomach...

Donnie was panting. Oh no. He'd been sitting there, leaning over Four's sample, breathing it in. Quickly, he got the sample back in the petri dish, and then into a bio-hazard container. But the instinct wasn't fading. Two on her knees before him, lips stretching around his dick, her eyes smiling up at him as she contentedly sucked like she was enjoying a popsicle. One over him, her breasts hanging freely, begging to be sucked.

He stood up shakily, looking around. It was probably in the air all over his lab. He needed. Needed to get out of here. Clear air. Maybe find April and ask her for... No, no. Stay away from April. Stay AWAY from April! He needed to get out of the lair...

Running across the rooftops unfortunately did not clear his head. And did nothing for the raging hard-on swinging in the breeze. It screamed for satisfaction. Donnie paused by a chimney, leaning against the wall as he grabbed himself. Yanking up and down, he drove himself headlong into release, shooting his load against the cold, uncaring bricks. It wasn't working. He wasn't getting better. Almost a dozen people would wander up to their various roofs to find his wasted shots over the architecture.

He needed more than this. More than his hand. And there was one place he could get it. When he got back to the apartment, he almost slipped scaling down to their window. The window was already opening when he finally got down to look inside. “Donnie? Oh crap, he looks as bad as Four.”

“Get him inside... Donnie? Donnie, can you hear me?”

“Bathroom! In the bathroom!”

Following the pointing finger, Donnie rushed over to the bathroom, dick jumping a bit as he got the door open.

She was there, sitting on the toilet. Stripped of all but one stocking. Panting, red-faced. Red hair undone, frazzled with sweat. Nipples hard and upright. Her legs out wide to expose her pussy, swollen and red, throbbing slightly. The whole room was filled with her stink. The whole world. She looked up at him. She needed. He needed.

He rushed forward, even as she grabbed the toilet seat to thrust her hips up, legs going wider. He got his dick into her pussy as fast as he could, going deep in one hard thrust. And then heaving out of her before slamming inside again. She screamed, pushed against him only to yank him in even harder. He grabbed hold of one breast, nipple rock hard against his palm, giving it a rolling squeeze in counterpoint to their primal thrusting. Her breasts were slick with sweat, shimmering a little in the sterile light.

She was burning him. His dick was on fire. Yet it needed quenching in her juices, flowing so freely over him. And the more he thrust inside her, the hotter she got, the more she flowed. He needed more. She was giving it her all, yet needed more.

He grabbed a leg, the bare one. Lifting it up, he hung onto her hips as he turned her. Still speared on him, she quickly turned her torso over, as her leg passed over his head and then down back to the floor. Her back now to him, sweaty ass up in the air as her legs splayed out wide, he started pounding into her again, brutally slamming his rod into her her encompassing folds.

He was grunting, almost growling, as she gave off short, hiccuping moans, hands on the wall to push back against. Leaning over, he grabbed onto her breasts with both hands, twisting her nipples between thumb and finger as he groaned into her ear. Her butt jiggled as it wetly slid across his shell from their thrusts. And then he came. Burning shots up his dick and deeply into her, her flesh quivering around him, milking him for every drop.

He lay there on top of her for a while, before sliding sideways off, his dick coming out of her with a thick slurp. He landed heavily, leaning back against the tub. She hung onto the toilet, panting, legs locked, butt high up in the air, a few more aftershocks twitching her body, milky white fluid flowing copiously down both legs, contrasting sharply with the one stocking.

The need let go of them. Donnie glanced up as the door opened. Two came in, leaned down to set a hand on Four's shoulder. “Hey, Four? How're you feeling?”

Smiling with her jaw left hanging open, Four managed to mumble. “I feel great...”

When Two looked over to Donnie, he silently gave her a thumbs up, then leaned his head back and closed his eyes.