Chemical

As far as the rest of the world knows, Jessica Demure is dead.

I'm a professor at a major medical school on the East coast, and while the the entire medical field regards me as a top-notch oncologist, I've always been more interested in the science of sex, and boy, do I have the closet full of perversions to fuel that flame for a loooong time. I never thought I'd actually have the opportunity to live out my noble scientific fantasies, but just a few hours ago everything fell into place, so to speak.

I was driving out of the parking lot around 11PM when the top two floors of the medical research tower blew up in burst of colors. My initial thought was that anyone on those two floors was dead, but seven seconds later I heard a splash in the mud behind me. I turned around to see Jessica Demure, one of my prized students. Checking her pulse, she seemed to be okay, and I opened up my cell phone before realizing the great opportunity that fell into my lap. The heavens dropped a beautiful and brilliant woman in front of me, and I would be a fool to pass it up. And so that is how I came to procure my new experimental sex ****.

I removed her clothes and cleaned her up, all the while she remained ****. After putting her in the cot in her prison cell beneath my mansion, I opened up the medicine closet that I had been stock-piling for years. Basically, the prison cell had a water fountain that I could spike with any **** imaginable as well as a ventilation system if I wanted to gas her. I could make her horny for sex, completely resistant to sex, drunk, high, hallucinatory, whatever.

So how should I prepare her opening cocktail?