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Chapter 13
Three days after Dean’s visit to the Board, Rebecca Patterson arrived at the Research Centre, trailing Givenchy perfume in her elegant wake and bringing bad news. The Dionysus Project was coming to an end.
“The therapy is simply not effective. Sorry, Kerry, but the procedure is just too painful.”
“But it works,” Moriarty insisted, almost striking the table to emphasise her point.
“No, Kerry, it doesn’t. At least it doesn’t work for normal men who do not have four hours a day, everyday, to sit with a hot stick rammed down their pisshole. It won’t work. I should have brought all this to an end much sooner, and saved everyone a lot of money.”
“What about the research subject? What about Dean?” Moriarty was not only concerned by the setback to her research career. She would be losing her gorgeous sex slave, her toy.
“He’ll remain here until we find somewhere for him. We should keep our part of the bargain after he has suffered so much for the project.” Moriarty sensed a critical tone in Patterson’s voice, yet she had sanctioned all of Moriarty’s schemes. She may have been hesitant, but she had ultimately agreed to her plans. Patterson was disowning her and the Dionysus Project.
“We’ve taken bookings, and we’ve taken money. They’ll be disappointed, and very angry.”
“Fine, we’ll keep our promises. I’ve come to let the nurses and your secretary go, today. The only ones who’ll be staying will be the night guard, because we have to provide security, Tiffany, as the only actual nurse among your team and, for the moment, you.”
“What will happen to me?” Moriarty bluntly asked.
“You’re on the payroll until the end of next month, but I wouldn’t turn down any lucrative job offers if I was you.”
Moriarty sank into her chair. She knew that she had not fully reached her ambitions for the project, but to learn that the entire scheme was coming to an end was a bitter disappointment. She asked if they had been unhappy with her presentation.
“The presentation was fine. They all enjoyed that.” Patterson could not suppress a laugh. “However, they don’t need to pay you, three nurses and a secretary as well as fund a course of expensive injections for a great fuck with Dean, especially as the expansion therapy has made very little difference. He was, as you recall, pretty sensational when we found him. Where is he now?”
“He’s in the Treatment Room having his morning dose of therapy.”
“Let’s pay a farewell visit. I will miss that wonderful body and that quite amazing cock.”
They arrived to find Dean sweating on the table, his eyes closed as the hum of the generator reminded everyone that the electrical current was still pulsing through his body.
“Turn it off,” Patterson ordered Tiffany. She looked at Moriarty, but Patterson repeated her message, adding “Dr Moriarty works for me, and so do you.” The tone was polite, but the message was clear. Once the machine was silent and the probe extracted from his shaft, Patterson sent the nurse from the room. She examined his radiant body, touching the skin to sample the sweat and casting a glance to Moriarty by the door as she raised a damp finger, highlighting the brutal price of her therapy.
“Thank you, Miss Patterson,” he gasped.
“My pleasure,” she replied, laying a hand on his chest and letting it rest there for a moment before allowing herself to stray towards his gleaming erection. “Now, Dean. I have some more good news. Your therapy is now at an end. No more zappers down your pisshole. I’m sure you’re pleased about that.” She returned to the head of the table to stroke his chest with a towel. “You can treat it as an early birthday present.”
“Is it the seventeenth?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Is it your birthday?” Moriarty asked, and immediately regretted the question because Dean and Patterson both offered a disappointed stare. It was Patterson who spoke.
“I thought you would know that.” The tone was distinctly unfriendly, and Moriarty was aware that the mood around the Research Centre would be changing now that the Dionysus Project, and her value to the Corporation, was coming to an end.
“Now, Doctor, I have some important matters to discuss with Dean.”
“You have?” Dean looked warily at the woman standing over him.
“No. I just want a farewell fuck. You’ll be leaving here soon, and I’ll miss your winning smile and your … massive cock.” She took hold of his shaft and stroked the moist tip.
“You want me here?” he asked. “Miss Patterson, I can offer you a far better service in one of the private rooms.” She considered his offer. “I want to give you my full routine, as a farewell gift.”
She answered with a smile as she loosened his straps.
An hour later a tired, but very contented, Patterson called the entire team into one of the meeting rooms in the main building to inform them of the end of the Dionysus Project. Cindi was furious at the news, and the cheque for a month’s pay did not alleviate her rage.
“Why is Tiffany staying?” She glared at her colleague, the sole survivor of the team.
“She’s the only member of the staff with medical experience, even though you’re all supposed to be nurses.” Moriarty was resolutely staring ahead, but she suspected Patterson was issuing another disapproving stare.
“What about Dr Moriarty?”
“Well I’m surprised she didn’t mention this before,” Patterson offered a swift glance to her neighbour before revealing that “Dr Moriarty is not a medical doctor. She’s … what are you?”
“I have a doctorate in biological and psychological sciences.” Moriarty barely whispered the words.
“So you’re not a real doctor?” Cindi almost spat the words.
“You’re not a real nurse,” Patterson retorted. “A qualification in advanced first aid does not make you a suitable candidate for the sole remaining post. I’m afraid that prisoners, like animals, require certain conditions. Only Tiffany satisfies those conditions.”
“Well, if I’m going, I’m leaving in a blaze of glory,” Cindi insisted, and Patterson readily agreed to the two departing nurses and the secretary, who was only returning to the reception desk in the main lobby but who still felt entitled to experience Dean one last time, enjoying an hour each with the captive whore. Cindi agreed to be last, because she needed to complete all her administrative tasks and “after I’ve finished with that slut, he’ll be good for nothing for a while.”
Kimberley and the secretary tossed a coin for first choice and the dime fell in favour of the secretary, who retired with Dean to the private room to depart just over three quarters of an hour later and leave the building without a word of farewell, stopping only to collect her bag and the coffee cup from her desk as she left.
Kimberley took Dean to the Performance Suite where she enjoyed one last performance, fellating him as he lay on the stage before riding him for more than half an hour, enjoying four orgasms during her jaunt. After her quartet of climaxes she kissed him on the lips and left for a shower. She changed into her civilian clothing and left her uniform on the bathroom floor, though she kept her pink underwear as a memento of her time at the Research Centre.
Cindi was the last of the departing trio to enjoy Dean. She demanded that he be bound to the table in the Treatment Room while she inflicted a final dose of therapy. When Patterson objected to her sadistic request, she pointed out that Patterson had sanctioned that Dean endure hundreds of hours of such therapy, as well as dozens of agonising injections into his testicles. One more hour would cause little further damage to either Dean’s penis or Patterson’s conscience.
Patterson, however, insisted upon witnessing Cindi’s final session from the adjacent room.
“I’ve never trusted that bitch,” she muttered to Moriarty as the nurse hauled Dean from the Performance Suite.
“Let her have her fun.”
“Her fun is tormenting Dean.” Patterson turned away from the scene of torture unfolding behind the glass window to face Moriarty. She crossed her arms and stared at her colleague. “I have to say, Kerry. You’ve never shown any concern for your … research subject in all the time we’ve been here.”
“That’s harsh. I’ve never taken advantage of him, unlike some.”
“Now who’s being harsh. A good fuck never did anyone any harm. He never seems to mind …”
“He’s a whore, Rebecca. He’s trained not to mind. Walton’s training has transformed him into a … a slut.”
“You spent months trying to convince him that you were his saviour, yet it was you who insisted that anaesthetic would ruin the experiment. It was you who introduced those appalling injections that almost cost him his balls. Remember.” She leant forward to emphasise her point and Moriarty looked away at the recollection of that fascination.
They both turned to the window to witness Cindi exacting her revenge on the Corporation, sending him bouncing on the table with each successive pulse from the generator.
“Dance, boy, dance.”
“God,” Patterson exclaimed. “She really is a fucking monster that one. Where did you get her?”
“Walton’s idea.”
“That’s no commendation. I’m no angel, but Walton is one very vicious lady. I don’t think I’d like to annoy her without a very good reason.”
Cindi was now enjoying a session of face sitting, rubbing her vagina lips against his mouth while shouting at him to pleasure her with his tongue. Once she was naked it was obvious that Cindi had spent more time in the cake shop than the gym, the uniform having hidden the folds of fat slipping over her stomach. As she ground her backside into Dean’s face her flesh quivered like a summer’s breeze across a lake, gentle undulations disturbing the calm.
Eventually Cindi’s hour came to an end and Patterson was delighted to enter the Treatment Room to show her the time on her watch. Cindi dismounted, slapped Dean across the face and was contemplating another blow until Patterson told her to leave or be removed by the Corporation’s security staff. Cindi briskly dressed and left, with no word offered or exchanged, to disappear without trace through the glass doors.
Tiffany removed Dean from the table and took him for a shower before returning him to his cell while Patterson completed the paperwork for the exodus of nearly half of the Research Centre’s staff. Once all the documents had been signed, photocopied and filed in the drawers, Patterson paid a final visit to Dean in his cell, accompanied by Moriarty.
Patterson told him that he would remain for only a few days, and that she was hoping to send him to a detention centre in the north of the state. The only disadvantage would be that it was a long way from Los Angeles, but Dean replied that he was happy to be far from his former gang members. He asked about the cold weather at this time of the year and Patterson promised that he would no longer be naked once he left the Research Centre. He kissed her on the cheek as she left, and he promised to behave in his final days.
Moriarty escorted Patterson to the reception desk where they shook hands and parted. Patterson was almost through the glass doors that separated at her approach, but she returned to Moriarty for a final word.
“Frankly, Kerry, if I’d known about the procedure I’m not sure I’d have sanctioned the entire project. Did you know it was going to be so painful?”
“Well.” Moriarty thrust her glasses against her face three times before she managed to speak. “I knew that there would be a degree of discomfort …”
“This is really my fault. I should have read all your research papers.” Patterson stared through the glass to the manicured garden. “It was there in the final report.” She finally turned to face her. “Why didn’t you tell me when we first met?”
“Tell you what?”
“Tell me that all your research monkeys died.”
Dean was resting on his bunk as Moriarty opened the door. He rose to his feet, but she asked him to sit and then inquired about his treatment by Cindi.
“She enjoyed herself. I think, Dr Moriarty, she is a very sick woman.”
“I think you’re right. It was a mistake to employ her, and I should have insisted that they follow my advice and dismiss her.”
“Never mind, Doctor. I am sure you did everything you could for me.” She only smiled at his devotion, confident now that she would be enjoying his body before he left for his new prison. She was already considering how she would secure his return. It was easy enough to obtain his transfer, and she was confident that she could persuade either the Corporation or a similar company to sponsor another research project now that Walton and the nurses had transformed him into a submissive sex slave.
She moved closer, sitting beside him on the bed. She could smell the shower cream on his warm skin, and struggled to avoid caressing his ridges of his stomach. She confined herself to a stroke of his upper arm and a friendly pat on the thigh, though the hand lingered longer than usual.
“Tomorrow we’ll have a party for your birthday.” She smiled as she allowed her hand to return to his thigh, this time higher than before. “We’ll have a party, just you and me, and later I’ll give you a little treat.” She winked.
“That would be very nice,” he said and she left him, excited by the prospect of enjoying a passionate evening alone at last with her personal sex slave.
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