The Dionysus Project

Chapter 14

Dean’s twenty third birthday party was a modest event, with only Moriarty, Dean and Tiffany sharing the small selection of sugared slices and the large black bottle of coke. However, Moriarty was convinced that he would appreciate her kind gesture. She sipped her fizzy drink and looked across at Dean as he stared through the window at the mild, late autumn sun. His plump phallus was limp against his thigh while his stomach and leg muscles glinted from the mellow rays of the noon sun. She had admired his body for the past year, able to control her emotions because she knew there was no chance of enjoying his body without compromising the project. Now, the end of the Dionysus Project was a dark cloud with a silver lining because, at last, she would be able to savour him without guilt or consequence. 

Dean’s special birthday lunch did not seem to be easing his despondent mood, so she joined him by the window. She asked if he was sorry to be leaving, and he seemed startled by the question.

“How do you know I’m leaving?”

“Miss Patterson told everyone yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

“Of course, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not leaving yet. That is unless you know something I don’t.” He smiled at her comment and looked out the window before asking the time. He was told it was just before one in the afternoon and he smiled once more. She was perplexed by this unusual behaviour, but then he turned to face her and told her that he would miss some of the staff at the Research Centre. She could not avoid blushing at such a compliment as she sipped her drink.

After his birthday lunch Moriarty asked Tiffany to give Dean a full medical check before sending her home, because “you’ll need to start looking for a new job as soon as possible.” So, by three o’clock Moriarty was alone in the Research Centre with her captive stud. She knew she had Dean to herself until the night guard arrived at eight.

Moriarty, more than anyone else in the Corporation, deserved to taste the fruits of her work. Every single member of the Research Centre team, including both secretaries, had enjoyed Dean. She was entitled to him, and her heart pounded when he casually looked away from the window and cast a mellow smile. Walton’s therapy and the situations she had devised to show her kindness and compassion would have left him feeling grateful for her efforts to keep him from harm. Now it was time for her reward.

       Time and again she had gazed at his naked form and wondered at the sensation of grasping his thighs as he drove himself into her moist opening, and now there was no time to waste. Patterson implied that he would be sent away within a few days. Moriarty had asked for him to be sent to his former prison while she tried to convince Fleming to reverse her decision because she wanted him somewhere he would be keen to leave if she revived the Dionysus Project. Once more, she would save him from harm, and he would be so grateful he would be utterly faithful to her every command.

       Moriarty asked him to spend an hour in the Exercise Room

“You need to run off those two slices of cake.”

She allowed herself a friendly pat on his tight stomach as he left to exercise his body and after a few minutes she joined him to see that he was already perspiring as he danced on the pedals of his static bike. She knew now that she would offer herself to him while he showered, but she was willing to be patient so she found a chair and sat behind him, watching his buttocks rise and fall as he rode his static bike. She enjoyed the sound of his panting, the noise so similar to the groans of his remarkable sexual performances. Countless times she had listened to him gasping for breath as he shoved himself into his partner, his Perspex box and his own hand, but soon she would hear him breathing deep as he held her in a passionate embrace. It would be his first performance of the day, and she was almost frightened by the intensity of his impending barrage.

       After twenty minutes she sent him to the weights, and she was pleased to notice that he remained compliant even though her authority over him was coming to an end. She watched as he grasped the rough matting of the grips, tensed his superb legs and lifted the bar onto his chest. He breathed deeply as he concentrated on the final phase of the lift. A moment later he stood, legs apart with the bar hoisted over his head. He remained motionless for a moment, allowing Moriarty to admire his tense frame before he lowered the bar and looked at her, as if seeking praise. She decided to be dominant and asked him to increase the weights.

       “I am sure you could lift more,” she claimed. He looked down to the matting before slipping off metal circles from each end and replacing them with wider weights. He prepared for his lift.

       “It’s just you and me now, Dean.” He did not seem to understand. “All the others have gone. I’ve sent Tiffany home for the day. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the other two have gone. I’ve finally convinced Miss Patterson to end your expansion therapy, and thankfully I was able to end those dreadful injections into your testicles.” Dean did not respond and she presumed his silence was due to his stupidity, though both Patterson and Walton believed that he was reasonably intelligent. “I hope you are grateful.” Now she was fishing for compliments.

       “Dr Moriarty, I know how much you care for me.”

She was pleased by his answer and settled in her seat to enjoy him labouring with the weights for her entertainment. After a few lifts she asked him to face the wall to allow her a view of his buttocks. Eventually he was ordered to stop because, she explained, she did not want him to strain any muscles before his transfer. She had to deliver and fit and healthy prisoner to his next jailor.

       “I hope they treat you well in your next prison.”

       “I don’t think anyone could ever treat me the way you have treated me.”

Moriarty was almost embarrassed by such devotion, and decided the moment had come for her to finally enjoy her treat. She came to stand beside him, savouring the warmth radiating from his body. She touched his left arm above the elbow, her usual destination, and told him that she was glad that his body was saved further abuse. It was, she told him, such a beautiful body. She edged closer and allowed her hands to stray across his shaven chest and around his back, sinking lower towards his taut stomach before, after just a moment’s hesitation, she reached out with her little finger to stroke his penis.

Moriarty realised that this was the first time she had stroked him. Almost daily she had witnessed others commit the most brutal violations, and during her inspections and injections she had often brushed against his shaft, but never before had she sought to enjoy him. She offered him a gentle, almost shy, smile as she took a light grip of his shaft. Suddenly he parted his legs, placed both hands behind his back and began to pump his hips into her hand. Moriarty stepped away, horrified. She was trying to seduce him, and he was treating her like a customer, performing as a male whore. She retreated to her chair, reaching for a handkerchief to clean her damp palm. He remained on the mat, legs apart and hands behind his back as he pumped his hips.

       “It’s time for your shower,” she said, trying to restore her authority. He turned and left for the simple square room with a basic faucet set into the wall and a concrete floor tilting into a metal drain. She followed him into the darkened room, feeling the dampness of the concrete beneath her feet as she slipped out of her shoes. He turned and she caught a glimpse of his penis as he took it in his hand for washing, parting his legs to reach under his testicles.

       Now, she knew, the moment had come. She rolled down her stockings and placed them on the towel bar before removing her jacket and her light blue shirt. She looked around for a clothes peg until she realised that Dean had no need of clothes pegs in the Research Centre. She folded her jacket and shirt and left them in the corner before sliding down the zip of her skirt and stepping out, dressed now only in her underwear.

She felt awkward. His nudity had offered her a distinct advantage in her dealings with him over the past year. He had experienced the humiliation of being naked and bound before groups of clothed men and women, often masturbating or being sexually assaulted for their entertainment. She was able to assert her authority over him and now she was surrendering that advantage. She was still considering her choice when he turned to see her wearing only underwear. Moriarty offered him another shy smile, but was unsettled by his blank, impassive, stare.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, the tone deliberate.

“I thought … I thought you might … like me to …”

“No.” Her eyes fell to her pink feet, warming in the hot stream from the shower head until she finally found the courage to look up at his face. It was hard and cold, a look she had never seen from him before. He repeated the word, no louder than a whisper.

“But …” Her voice faltered as she tried to explain, but she was shamed into silence. A moment later she was franticly grabbing her clothes and running from the shower room. She left her shoes behind in her panic as she headed for her office while Dean turned away from the door to continue his shower.

Half an hour later Moriarty returned, accompanied by two security guards from the main building. They cuffed him and took him to the Treatment Room.

“Who’s been a naughty boy?” one of the guards inquired as they removed the cuffs and strapped him to the table. “Touching up your boss in the shower room. You should know better.”

As soon as the guards left Moriarty circled her prisoner, who remained silent, closing his eyes as if asleep.

“How dare you,” she hissed, leaning down to spit the words into his ear. “I’ve kept you safe for the last year. Those whores have tried to tear you apart and I’ve been the one …”

“The one who gives the orders. They all work for you.” He did not look at her as he spoke, staring up into the bright light. “This has been your project from the beginning. Every humiliation, every rape, has been ordered by you. I’ve been your latest research subject. Only this time, Professor Moriarty, you don’t get to kill your monkey.”

She slapped his face and gagged him before once more removing her clothes, administering a huge dose into his shaft and climbing onto the table to sink onto his erection. The door opened on one of the receptionists from the main hall who looked aghast for no more than a second before informing Moriarty that there was a guest in the main reception hall. When Moriarty, poised over her prisoner with her vagina brushing against the tip of his penis, told her to take a message she was informed that he had come with release papers for Dean. Moriarty stomach almost heaved as she stumbled from the table.

A short middle aged man with a greying moustache rose from the couch as Moriarty approached, offering a handshake and a smile.

“John Lomax. I have been retained to ensure the release of Dean Heladios Brown Cruz. He is, I believe, currently detained in this Research Centre. Is that correct?”

“I cannot discuss this with you.” Moriarty attempted to appear authoritative, but she was faltering, her voice betraying her unease. This man with the plastic briefcase was coming to take Dean away.

“Fine. Tomorrow I will return with a court order and a federal marshal. He will release Dean and arrest you for obstructing justice. Dr Moriarty, I’ll make this very simple for you. I have a court order releasing Dean from jail from noon today. Unless you can convince a court to prolong his detention then he must be released immediately. If you fail to do so, the Genesis Corporation will be pursued through the courts. I can promise you a rigorous pursuit.”

“This is impossible.” Moriarty simply could not find the words to resist, and she knew that she was sounding frantic as she stared at the pages of script. One simple line in bold glared up at her from the page. Noon on today’s date.

“I apologise, Dr Moriarty. I am not making myself clear. Dean has served his sentence and he is due for release. The state of California has sanctioned his release. You do not enjoy a veto.”

“I need to speak to Rebecca Patterson.” Moriarty stepped away, almost hoping that if she disappeared, Lomax would simply leave her alone, with Dean.

“Please do so now, and don’t be long.” He returned to the couch to offer a flamboyant display of impatience. 

Moriarty retreated to her office to call Patterson to relay the dramatic news from Lomax. Patterson told Moriarty to send her the court documents by email. Five minutes later Patterson returned the call.

“I thought he was sentenced to life for murder.”

“So did I. We could ask for more time. There must be some legal …”

“Why? Even if we wanted to keep him, and we don’t, if he has papers from the prison service releasing him, then he goes. He should have gone at noon, so we will have to let him go.”

“Today?”

“Right now. Get him ready. Find some clothes. Kerry, I’m not happy about this. I don’t like unpleasant surprises. We will talk once you’ve sent him on his way.”

Moriarty returned to the main reception to find Lomax was talking on his mobile phone. He ended the call with a promise to his listener.

“My client will be arriving shortly. We expect to see Dean, here, by the time she arrives.”

“The prisoner will be available shortly.”

“The former prisoner, Dr Moriarty. At noon this afternoon he became a free man. You are breaking the law by keeping him, but I am a reasonable man, so I will forgive the oversight. I’m surprised that you have not made provision for his release.”

“I … well, you see … There have been …”

Moriarty could not admit to her visitor that she was completely unaware of Dean’s impending release. It had been after four when she had slipped out of her shoes in the shower room and now it was not yet five. It had been a dreadful hour. Dean had rejected her after all her work and now he was being taken away just as she was about to finally enjoy him. She could barely avoid tears of sheer anger and frustration as the main doors parted without a sound and the night guard walked into the main hall.

“Your services will not be needed tonight, Miss Rodriguez.” Moriarty was too distracted by her own problems to notice that the guard was not wearing her uniform. Rodriguez ignored Moriarty and turned to the lawyer.

“Good afternoon, Mr Lomax. Is everything in order?”

“It is, Miss Rodriguez. I can assure you that Dean will be a free man within the next ten minutes.”