The stuff in these boxes, though, I was going to use myself, because I sure as fuck didn’t need an extra four hundred pounds of the shit. Maybe a dozen well-placed drops would do the trick in the end. That might be all I had the time to use, anyway.
Already suited up in protective clothing, I opened the boxes, double-checked that everything was exactly as I’d ordered, and set up all my equipment. Fucked if I wanted any of this shit getting on me.
It was a relatively easy process for me, only made difficult by my unshakable awareness of how bad it would be if a single droplet managed to find a way through my suit and on to my skin. Still, it was a liquid at room temperature, non-corrosive and non-volatile, so it was deceptively easy to handle.
By the time my interrogation-from-hell concoction was in the centrifuge, there hadn’t been any mishaps, and the direct handling of the ingredients was all done for the day. I cleaned up and walked the lab, making sure everybody was doing exactly what I told them, no more and no less.
Everybody did their best to not make eye contact with me as I passed, unless I spoke to them directly, focusing intently on their jobs regardless of how menial they may have been. They shrunk from me as if I was radiating too much heat, and that was fine by me.
I didn’t know how the Acardis handled the men I reported as being shit workers, that was their business. It was my business to take care of the “unskilled” help who appeared to be suspiciously talented chemists. Everybody in between had learned over the months and years that it was best to just do what I said without question.
It was a powerful feeling, and I reveled in it. In here, more than anywhere else, everything was completely under control. The rest of the city would follow soon enough.
Once the team was suitably motivated, I returned to my private corner and scrolled through screen after screen of test results. Results from the quality control on the latest batch of F, results from tests on the legitimate experiments, results from quality control tests on the raw goods coming in from suppliers, diagnostics on the equipment, and so on.
Everything was coming in within normal parameters, and I found my mind wandering back to Sarina, time and again. I was looking forward to our date even more than I thought I would.
It was so, for want of a better word, unusual the way she was so clearly desperate to get me inside her again… and yet she was making the both of us wait. No other girl in my recent life was like that, especially after they’d had a taste of the things I could do to them in bed.
Unusual. Yes. Interesting too, that was it. I had to admit, I was enjoying our little game. Waiting a little longer was going to make it all the sweeter when I slid my cock into that perfect pink pussy again.
Come to think of it, between the satisfaction of our first sexathon, meetings, pulling back from my personal F distribution and just being generally busy, I hadn’t thought about another girl since being with Sarina. Tonight, it would be almost a week since I fucked her.
With that kind of wait, I’d have a big present saved up for our next session. I was pulling out all the stops for this date, she’d be putty in my hands and I’d be anything but putty in hers.
Sarina
Ryan showed up dressed to kill. He led me to his car, drove me to a restaurant called Unseen, and was a perfect gentleman all the while. Except for that smile that still had a devilish little edge to it, of course.
I tried to stay serious, tried to steer us to the friendzone, but damn that smile. And his eyes. Damn his smile and his eyes. He made me want to giggle like a schoolgirl.
I didn’t, thank goodness, but I couldn’t help but smile back. I melted when he told me how much he’d been looking forward to seeing me again, for the chance to get to know me better. He even helped me out of the car after he parked.
“Have you dined here before?” the man standing at the little podium asked with a professional smile after confirming Ryan’s reservation.
“I haven’t, but I thought it sounded interesting,” said Ryan. “You?”
“No, what sounded interesting?” I said.
“Well, ma’am, all our dining experiences are held in pitch-black darkness. You won’t be able to see a thing. All of our waiters and waitresses are blind, so your service will be of the highest quality. You’ve been allocated the Englert room, which contains a single table, very romantic.”
I blushed and smiled up at Ryan as we were steered past a door to the main dining room, down a short hallway to another door that had a waiter standing outside. He stood to attention almost like a soldier when he heard us approaching.
“Andy will be your waiter for this evening, and he’ll take you from here. Andy, this is Ryan Crewe and Sarina Bell.”