For the Greater Good

[marauder13]

[OOC: This thread is closed for EuphoricDysphoria and myself.]


Gordon Cutwell gazed down from the fourth story window to the street below, watching the workmen cleaning up the debris that still littered the road for the last two days.

"I still can't believe the mentality of the people who did all of that. What did they think it would accomplish? Getting them what they wanted?" He stalked back to the head of the long table, dropping into his large, leather chair and swinging around to stare down the length of the table. "Don't they damn well know that what we do and supply is expensive? If they want it badly enough, they can earn the money to pay for it like all of our other clients."

"Sir, regardless of what we tell them, they still believe that we are artificially holding the prices up so only the rich can afford them."

"Miss Turner, without the current pricing regime, we would not be in business now. We would not have the client base we have now. We would not be collecting the pay packets we get now for making the important members of society better equipped to run the country, and make it the place we were promised."

The woman blushed slightly under the storm from Cutwell. She looked at her notepad, quickly jotting down notes in a scrawl that she would decipher later.

"It seems that the people have come to think that once something new has been created, and publicly accessible, everyone should be able to have it." The man five places down on Cutwell's left leaned forward slightly to allow himself to be seen clearly. "They have grown complacent concerning the need to earn what they get."

"Exactly! Grover got it right on the head. Anyway, that is a matter for our glorious leaders to figure out how to deal with. Right now, however, there is the Project. I have heard some interesting news from there. Care to say anything about those snippets I have heard, Hamilton."

"I have no idea what you may have heard, Mr Cutwell, so I can't comment on them. But, concerning the Project, and it's progress, we have reached an impasse. If anything, things appear to be degrading somewhat."

"Degrading?" Cutwell's voice slid down as the word left his mouth. All heads turned to look at Hamilton who seemed unperturbed by the reaction.

"Yes. The men are all still in peak physical condition. Their mental state is still above the minimum levels, but there seems to be a growing level of discord between the men. After some examination, and interviews, it appears that the men are simply suffering from inadequate sexual release."

"Tell them to jack off more then."

"Masturbation is not having any impact on the rate of degradation, sir. These men are in their prime physical state, as well as being in a highly aggressive frame of mind. We have reinforced that they are a unit, and they must look out for each other. So much so, they will not do too much harm to their fellow team mates when any incidents break out. But the number of incidents are rising, and they are having difficulties holding themselves in check. They are all heterosexual males who have had no sexual activity while being a part of the program.

"The testosterone levels are high enough to give them quite a strong sex drive, which has not been dealt with. It is my opinion that this need must be addressed, or the coherence of the unit will fail, rendering all of our work invalid."

"So, if everything else is working fine, and getting these boys laid regularly helps, will they fulfill the requirements set out by the Government?"

"If indeed sexual release is the cure to the current problems, yes, they fulfill every specification given to us."

"Fine, get them laid."

Turner looked up, along with the few other women present. Unlike the rest, Turner didn't remain silent. "You are looking at getting women for those men, purely for sexual purposes? Have you seen how they behaved when any women got near them last time?"

"With the inclusion of regular sexual activities, the chances of such abuses of female staff will be reduced to negligible levels." Hamilton appeared unconcerned.

"How many women would it take to keep those men... under control?"

Cutwell cocked an eyebrow, looking straight at Hamilton.

"I see no reason for any more than just one."

There was a murmur around the room. Cutwell's voice cut through, silencing everyone else. "Why only one?"

"Unit bonding. She would be the responsibility of everyone. They were be told that she is to be shared between them all, and she will not be replaced. They will sort it out amongst themselves to see that she is taken care of, like every other piece of unit property. She wont be broken, nor damaged too much to render her disfunctional."

"Just one woman for the six of them? They'll kill her."

"You'd be surprised how much the human body can withstand, Miss Turner, particularly a woman's body. Plus, the men know how to control the amount of force they use. If they are told not to damage her too greatly, they wont."

"Mr Cutwell, I must object in the strongest terms about this -"

"If you continue with this pathetic rant, Miss Turner, you may find yourself being the Unit's latest property. This Project is highly important to this corporation, as well as the continued function of our society. Do you want to dodge scenes like that everyday? Have people trying to kill you because they think they deserve what you have rightfully earned, without putting in the effort too? If it means giving a woman over to these men to help stabilize their condition, then I will get them whoever fits the bill, regardless of what it takes."

"Mr Cutwell," Hamilton straightened his glasses, "since there have been reports that NovaTech has been kidnapping people for their 'brutal, heartless torturous experiments', which I know for a fact have not happened yet, why not perform the crime we have been punished for."

"WHAT?" Turner's face went white.

"You and your team seem to have failed in deflecting or even debunking the falsehoods in the media and general circulation, and we are suffering for these particular crimes. Why not actually do it. We can secure the woman we need from the very street, if needed. Send out some security guards, pick up a healthy looking woman in her twenties, and she will help out in the greater good of society."

Cutwell lifted the phone near his chair, calling security and issued his instructions.

~||~​

Sebastian Rhys-Hamilton returned to his office after the meeting had ended. He stood by the window overlooking the large internal training area that housed the Unit. His bright blue eyes tracked the men as they ran through the confidence course. Some elements of the course were adjustable, allowing them to become more of a challenge for them, as well as changing the sequence of obstacles to keep them on their toes. Similarly to his charges, he kept his light brown hair short, and face clear of hair. He wore something akin to a uniform rather than a suit, though he was not a member of any standing military organisation. But it helped reinforce the perception he was an officer in the eyes of the Unit, allowing him to retain the control he needed over the men.

He sat down at his desk, staring to draw up the list of tasks he would need to do to ensure that the volunteer would be properly prepared for her task ahead.

"We will need to help her out. After all, she is doing this for the greater good."

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

Zephyr Blake ~ Age 20. Dark blonde hair with blue dreadlocks, blue-grey eyes, 32B bust, 5ft tall.​

"See you tomorrow then boss."

Zephyr pulled on a cropped black jacket and then yanked her gas mask from her locker. She eyed the dark looking filter speculatively, before shrugging and strapping the mask in place. She grabbed her light backpack and headed for the door. Outside, she opened up her UV brolly and huddled under its protection. Like many of the poorest sectors, Zone 347 had no satellite UV filter in place. Its inhabitants therefore operated on an inverted clock, so that they were awake and working during the night. Now, at 'late evening' when the bars kicked out, the sun was climbing high in the sky. Zephyr's micro-miniskirt and fishnets didn't exactly constitute sun protection but then what was life without a little risk? She needed the tips she got from drinkers and dressing like a slut was lucrative.

Zephyr paused outside a ATM, where she scanned her precious credits from the bracelet she wore at work. Such bracelets could be loaded with a small number of credits but they were easily lost or stolen. Everything else required fingerprint and retinal scans these days, making bank cards a thing of the distant past.

She stopped in a 24hr grocery store to pick up a few essentials and loaded them into her backpack.

"That comes to 23.72 credits." The disinterested proprietor informed her.

"Come on! I paid less than twenty credits for the exact same shit two days ago!" Zephyr stepped away from the scanner and regarded her few purchases with dismay. "I still have to put credits on the energy in my rat-trap."

"I don't set the prices." He replied in a weary tone that offered no sympathy and brooked no argument. "You want to put something back?"

Zephyr glared at her purchases, they were all essential. She sighed and leaned forwards.

"Retinal and fingerprint identification accepted. Your account has been debited by 23.72 credits."

"You're not fucking welcome... wait a minute," she turned back to the shopkeeper. "Have you got any filters for this baby?" Zephyr pointed at her mask.

"Sure, 7.86 credits for 5 filters."

"Jesus. Can I buy just one?"

"I'm not allowed to break up the packs. If I start selling doing that I'll be lucky if I starve to death before I lose my licence."

"Fine, forget it." Zephyr turned on her chunky platform boot and left.

The poorest sectors were densely populated. Zephyr's 'rat-trap' consisted of a single room, 10ft square, with a fold-down bed and kitchenette squeezed in. She shared a bathroom with a dozen other tiny flats. Though the genetically enhanced classes strenuously denied it, everyone knew they were packed in like sardines to discourage procreation. Poor sanitation and the rapid spread of disease claimed the lives of the very young, weak and old, culling the population to more manageable levels and minimising claims for handouts made by those unable to work. The air quality was appalling, since all manufacture took place in the poorer districts and in addition, affluent areas vented their noxious gases into the most deprived zones.

The richest cities sat beneath colossal geodesic domes that blocked harmful UV, with huge filtration systems that left their air pure, sweet and invisible, so it was said. The city sized domes were big enough to have their own water cycles but the rain didn't sting or burn. Lush green grass grew there, trees and flowers, Zephyr had seen pictures. There was even enclosed coastline, beautiful tropical beach havens where the mega-rich vacationed. The domes were also an insurance policy, as scientists predicted that mankind's ceaseless rape of mother Earth would eventually lead to vast areas becoming uninhabitable. The domes ran under the ground and completely sealed the environment off from the rest of the world. Should the day ever come, the rich could live in comfort while the rest of mankind was wiped out. The domes could be completely closed off for years at a time, until such time as scientists predicted the Earth could have recovered, in mankind's absence.

These domes had become a key focus of resistance activity. They were clear signals that no attempt was being made to save the Earth from total ecological meltdown, only to ensure that the rich survived it. Holes were frequently blown into these structures and places along the perimeters were looted and vandalised. Attempts had also been made on the town halls but it was tough to reach these central locations before enough enforcement showed up. More recently, holes were blown in the tops of the domes and men rappelled down into the heart of the city. Getting out was tricky though, so most of those attacks were suicide bombings. In moderately wealthy areas, where there was no dome but a satellite UV filter in place, noxious air was sent back through the pipes to pollute their atmosphere for a change and recently an attack on one of the huge floating UV shields had been successful, raining debris down on the men who had created the new generation of 'enhanced' humans, only to swiftly become outranked by them.

Transports passed her by but Zephyr had only managed to secure part time work and so she had no option but to walk the three miles each way. She wasn't 200yards from the store when her gas mask beeped importantly, telling her the filter was clogged and needed changing. She would have to try rinsing it out at home or something. This was getting ridiculous.

She stalked along the familiar route home. There were a few drunks and homeless people collapsed beneath the blistering sun. If they didn't find shelter they would be badly burned and dehydrated, if not dead, by nightfall. Zephyr plugged her headphones into her ears and listened to some hard rock as she walked along.

 

[marauder13]

Lawson and Baxter walked out the main entrance to the NovaTech main facility onto the middle of the sidewalk. The two men, uniformly large in height and build, filled the all black uniforms of the State Security Service, which replaced the disfunctional Police Services years before. The pedestrians waled around them as if they were just another pair of inanimate objects on the side walk. No one looked at them, and they all prayed the two men didn't look at them.

They scanned the crowd, their orders were clear but they had some leeway with respect to those orders. For five minutes, the crowds moved past them, and they didn't move anything except occasionally for their heads, and of course their sunglass covered eyes.

Once Baxter caught sight of her, Lawson turned to look at her as well. Short, dressed in a manner that spoke of the lowest section of society. They looked her over several times as she closed on their position. There were no outward signs of disease, injuries or malnutrition. Clearly female by the figure the minimal outfit covered. Plus, she would not be one that anyone would clearly miss.

Before she could change the direction of her course to go around them, the two men walked to either side of her, grabbing an arm each, and literally lifting her off her feet, they carried her inside the Novatech front doors. A few passing pedestrians stopped to have a quick look, before turning away and trying very hard to drive the image from their minds.

Inside the foyer, the few people inside looked up to see what the disturbance was, ignoring it when they saw that security was handling it. They carried her into a room off the side of the foyer; the fingerprint and retinal prints unlocking the door. On the otherside was a spartan room with a large table in the centre, and a small dispenser unit in the side wall.

Lawson took a hold of her by the back of her neck, slamming her down bent over the table while Baxter went to the dispenser. He took out two latex gloves, putting them on quickly as he walked back to where she was. He quickly removed all external items from her. Her bag, mask, brolly sound system, bracelets and any other non clothing items not connected to her body.

He returned to the dispenser, and retrieved a metallic yoke. He walked back, and with Lawson's help, locked it around her neck, then locked each wrist into the corresponding places at either end of the yoke. Lawson then grabbed the yoke, hauling her to her feet, while Baxter commenced a very thorough frisking of her. He checked everywhere, even getting inside her underwear and probing her vagina and anus deeply and roughly.

Lawson kept holding her by the yoke while Baxter filled a large, clear bag with all of her effects that they removed from her. Once the bag was sealed, they hauled her out of the room, taking her deeper into the foyer and toward an elevator door. The door opened before they got close, becoming fully open by the time they got there, passing through without slowing down. Lawson pushed her into the back wall of the off white walled lift, pinning her here.

When the elevator arrived at the proper floor, she was once again hauled through the plain off white hallways, passed numerous doors that had been closed. Not a single door had anything to declare what it was for. After turning a few corners, they finally stopped outside a door, opening it and dragging the woman into Sebastian's office.

"Ah, thank you, gentleman. Please put the bag on my desk, and help the woman sit down on the chair. If she had any ID on her, please get it out for me." Sebastian took a look at the woman they had found for him. On initial appearances, she was healthy, not too injured or carrying evidence of injuries. The diminutive size might be a factor of concern, but then when it came to the human body, it never ceased to amaze him what it would withstand.

"Thank you, Baxter." Sebastian picked up the bracelet that held her credit chip. Inside would also be everything necessary to identify her, with the exception of the finger and retinal prints. He placed the chip on the scanner, transferring the necessary information into his system.

"Hello, Miss Blake. Thank you very much for your contribution to this most important project we have underway." He walked over to a tray, picking up a needless injector that contained a large container of a thick, golden fluid. He walked over to the woman. "Now, you can be cooperative, or you can be unhelpful, which would require a dose of this. Which is it going to be, Miss Blake?"

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

"Let me go! I haven't done anything. There has to be some mistake. Put me down and check my fucking ID you morons! Where are you taking me! Oh no... not Novatech... please... I haven't done anything... " Zephyr screamed at the top of her lungs but nobody tried to intervene. They would have to be suicidal to interfere with government business. She had walked past Novatech day in and day out, cursed its presence like all her family and friends. Zephyr had never in a million years have thought she would ever see inside the place.

Her screams were cut short when they slammed her over a table, knocking the air from her lungs. She watched incredulously as one of the men donned some gloves, as though she was filthy or diseased. The smell of latex filled her nose as his big hands raked roughly over her body. Her backpack went, her music player, her gas mask, the cheap jewellery she wore. He handled every item as though it was a potentially fatal bio-hazard and even in the midst of her ordeal, Zephyr couldn't help feeling indignant.

Her lungs were in some kind of spasm, it was like she couldn't get any air. The place felt like it was a vacuum. Then it hit her. Clean air. This place is filtered. No heavy metals smogging the atmo up in this building. The air didn't even taste of anything... it was like it wasn't there at all, which was why Zephyr had panicked. She forced herself to slow her breathing, trying not to descend into total, suicidal panic.

She was intensely relieved that they didn't strip her clothes. The men answered none of her questions, no matter how she screamed or sobbed. A hundred times she assured them they must be seeking some other girl, because she held down an honest job and kept her nose clean.

They locked her into some metal restraints and then the man in gloves went back to work, prodding and poking every crevice on her body. He jammed thick fingers into her pussy and ass. Zephyr was no virgin but she had never had her ass probed before.

"Having fun down there you sick fuck?" She snarled. Again the men ignored her. It was as though she was a mute animal whose complaints were incomprehensible. Their faces betrayed no reaction whatsoever to her words, or even that they had registered what she said as English. As panic threatened to overwhelm Zephyr, causing her to hyperventilate and get light headed, she began to wonder if she had really spoken at all that time.

"I guess you're test tube boys." She sneered. "not proper human beings. Well whatever they tweaked in your cases guys, they failed."

Again they betrayed no sign that they had heard her. Zephyr was dragged out into the foyer again, where they stopped outside an elevator.

"Oh I get it... you're minions, sentient little pitbulls. Is that why you don't speak, did they not bother to give you tongues? I'll bet you're going to get patted on the head for this, maybe even a treat or a chew toy."

The elevator arrived and she was flung against the back wall, pinned in place like some kind of rabid dog.

"You know what, I'm starting to like you guys, I mean I gotta respect your loyalty. I think maybe you could be rehabilitated, there's a really good dog's home up in the big city. I could get you guys a couple of frisbees, couple of squeaky balls. You can't blame the dog you see, it's always the owner that's ultimately to blame for bad behaviour. Do you guys have a bad owner? Is he mean?"

She was beginning to think the men had subnormal intelligence, so it was just possible that talking to them like that could provoke a response. As it was, all they did was drag her down a long corridor, their faces still masks of total implacability.

They arrived at an office and she was brought face to face with someone who could actually speak. Now this was an enhanced male. He was tall, broad shouldered, muscular, handsome and glowing with health. This was not a man who spent his days inhaling smog and scuttling along under a UV brolly. Zephyr hated his arrogant ass on sight.

"So are you going to tell me what the fuck I've done? Your boys are a little on the reticent side. The Glitch is a clean bar, there's no drugs or prostitution there. It was inspected only a few months ago-"

"Hello, Miss Blake. Thank you very much for your contribution to this most important project we have underway. Now, you can be cooperative, or you can be unhelpful, which would require a dose of this. Which is it going to be, Miss Blake?"

"My contribution? What project? How about you tell me what the fuck is going on here and then I'll tell you how many of those injections it's going to take to shut me up!"

She glared at him and started struggling in the restraints, testing them to see how strong they were.

 

[marauder13]

Sebastian ignored her outbursts as she attempted to break free of the yoke. He watched with a degree of impatience, while Lawson and Baxter waited quietly at the back of the room. Without any warning, Sebastian backhanded Zephyr across the the cheek, grabbing the bar and helping to right her in the seat.

"This device is far beyond your ability to break, bend or otherwise remove yourself from, unless you are capable of ripping your own hand off. So, I would advise you stop wasting time and effort trying to get free." He grabbed her dreadlocks, pulling her head back so her throat was taut. He placed the injector near the jugular, and emptied the ampule's contents into her blood stream. He casually walked back to the tray, depositing the injector where he had got it from.

"Once, people used chemicals like sodium pentathol as a truth serum. Of course, it was not really a truth serum, only something that made it harder for the person to concentrate, therefore more difficult to lie. We have come a long way since then. Floating in your blood stream are some very talented little robotic microbes. They have been tailored to react to the changes in the brain that occur when the subject is lying. When you lie, your body chemistry changes, especially in the brain. Now, when it does, these little devices will cause you to have a pain reaction. A rather bad one at that.

"Also, they will react when your adrenal levels go above a key level as well, just as if you were lying. So it is in your best interests to remain calm, not have any more of your emotional outbursts, and answer any questions put to you honestly."

He circled back behind his desk, taking his seat. He did a quick review of the information NovaTech's information systems were able to gather on Zephyr Blake. He was surprised that she had medical records at all, and though everything was outdated, it did indicate at one time she had been rather healthy for someone living in the unprotected zones.

"Now, we will start with a few simple questions, Miss Blake. Have you ever been sexually active with anyone? Have those people been only male, only female or both? How many partners would you have had? An estimate is permitted if a hard figure can't be supplied. What kinds of sexual activities did you and your partner or partners perform? Again, please answer the questions, Miss Blake. The microbes that have been injected will not wait too long before they detect your reticence, and interpret it as lying."

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

The backhand took her completely by surprise, freezing Zephyr into a caricature of rage and terror as he righted her in the chair. Finally she was speechless and so he took the opportunity to yank her head back and dump the jab into her neck.

Then he walked away calmly, none of his earlier irritation apparent. Zephyr felt the room start to sway a little as the mystery concoction hit her bloodstream. She struggled to follow him as he paced before his desk.

"Once, people used chemicals like sodium pentathol as a truth serum. Of course, it was not really a truth serum, only something that made it harder for the person to concentrate, therefore more difficult to lie. We have come a long way since then. Floating in your blood stream are some very talented little robotic microbes. They have been tailored to react to the changes in the brain that occur when the subject is lying. When you lie, your body chemistry changes, especially in the brain. Now, when it does, these little devices will cause you to have a pain reaction. A rather bad one at that.

"Also, they will react when your adrenal levels go above a key level as well, just as if you were lying. So it is in your best interests to remain calm, not have any more of your emotional outbursts, and answer any questions put to you honestly."

"Wha-?"

A feeling of total tranquillity was welling up in Zephyr. She gazed upon the man speaking with a warm glow of total trust in her eyes as the drug kicked in. The merest hint of a smile played at her mouthcorners and all the tension ebbed from her body.

And then just like that, it was gone, replaced by a terror so total that it was like a bucket of iced water to the face.

"Now, we will start with a few simple questions, Miss Blake. Have you ever been sexually active with anyone? Have those people been only male, only female or both? How many partners would you have had? An estimate is permitted if a hard figure can't be supplied. What kinds of sexual activities did you and your partner or partners perform? Again, please answer the questions, Miss Blake. The microbes that have been injected will not wait too long before they detect your reticence, and interpret it as lying."

Her face screwed up as she followed his rapid fire questions. The urge to tell him to go fuck himself surged in her... quickly followed by a blinding flash of pain that was like a dagger to the skull. Her head was in a vice... her skull would shatter.

Zehyr screamed, nausea rising behind her throat and hot tears stinging her face.

And then just as rapidly, it vanished, leaving her bathed in a cold sweat, panting and shaking.

Oh fuck, what had he asked her?

Sex, he wanted to know about sex. Zephyr was beyond asking herself why that might be, she just didn't want to be hurt again.

"Um... I've had two boyfriends, couple of one night stands... one experiment with a girl. We did usual stuff, you know... regular sex."

 

[marauder13]

Sebastian looked on passively as Zephyr's thought processes betrayed her initial response to his questions. The expression on her face was clear as to how much discomfort the microbes had inflicted on her. The scream that followed was one of pure pain, and the tears that rolled down her cheeks spoke of the degree of suffering she inflicted on herself.

No sooner had it begun, it was gone. Now, she knew he wasn't lying and that her continued cooperation would be good for her. He wondered what was passing through her mind as she sat panting heavily in the post pain shock.

"Um... I've had two boyfriends, couple of one night stands... one experiment with a girl. We did usual stuff, you know... regular sex."

"Regular sex? Just plain sexual intercourse? What about Oral sex, giving and receiving? Any other forms of sexual stimulation?" He paused while he went to get another injector, this time the ampule was larger and empty. "Did you ever have multiple partners? Were your positions during sexual intercourse standard, or did you experiment with those too?"

He put the injector in the crook of her elbow. When he triggered the device, it drew blood from her, rather than inject anything. It continued to draw blood unto the ampule was completely full. He walked back to his desk, removing the ampule and placing it into a receptacle in his desk.

"Once the results of the tests are done, everything should be ready for you to proceed to joining the Project. Now, I should inform you, Miss Blake, that the moment you were selected for this task, you ceased to exist to the outside world. Now, that was just in name only. While we have been sitting here, our computer systems have been getting all the information we need concerning you, and your history. The amazing thing about the security systems in place is that it makes it incredibly easy to create someone new, or remove someone entirely. There are only three places that store your retinal and finger prints, legally, and we have the means to remove those in less than a tenth of a second. Everything else concerning you hangs off those two pieces of information. Once they are gone, everything else is in limbo, and will be erased as corrupted data as part of the regular housekeeping by the system." Sebastian leant forward slightly, fixing Zephyr with a cold hard stare. "Very soon, you wont be Zephyr Blake anymore, because there will not be a Zephyr Blake. As far as the information systems are concerned, there never was. All you will be is another asset of the Project. Something we are all very please about."

There was a soft beep from the console in front of him. Sebastian turned his gaze to flick over the results on on the screen, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "This is impressive indeed. These results I would expect from someone in the green zones, or even the arcologies, not from an unprotected zone dweller. This is even better than I expected." He shifted his gaze to look at the young woman sitting opposite him. He never expected to find someone in such good health, with no signs of disease or long term damage from environmental factors. His initial feelings about the success of this phase of the project were much better than when he first came up with the proposal.

He started to think of specific ways he would use her to inspire the men further, but he would need to see how they reacted to her presence before he could refine those ideas further. Either way, he was looking forward to seeing the first meeting between his unit, and their latest piece of property.

 

[EuphoricDysphoria]

"Like I said, regular stuff; oral sex, mutual masturbation, regular positions." She said, slightly irritated. "Why do you want to know?"

He ignored her question and took a blood sample, thick dark fluid seeping from the puncture site to fill his ampule. Zephyr listened wide eyed as he threatened to delete her data. No fingerprint or retinal scan meant no access to her money, her home, anywhere. She had heard about people who starved on the street because injury, illness or the ravages of addiction had caused the scanning machinery to stop recognising them. If he erased her, she was as good as dead.

"What are you running in here, a fucking brothel? Because there are some places downtown that would suit even a sick fuck like you down to the ground."

"This is impressive indeed. These results I would expect from someone in the green zones, or even the arcologies, not from an unprotected zone dweller. This is even better than I expected."

"Over-crowding, poor sanitation, the pollution and the UV, it's natural selection in action. Pussies from green zones wouldn't last five minutes."

Zephyr glared at him mutinously.

"What is this fucking project?" Anger welled in her and she quickly suppressed it. No way did she want another dose of excruciating pain.

 

[marauder13]

Sebastian noted that her fear had waned, and a strong aggressive attitude surfaced. Zephyr was not afraid to speak her mind. Whether it was from normal bravado, or that she knew she was in a bad place and it didn't really matter what she said, he didn't know nor care.

He looked at Lawson and Baxter, a slight flick of his hand enough to tell them what he wanted of them. Lawson grabbed the yoke, hauling Zephyr out of the chair, and pulled her back into the centre of the room, while Baxter squatted down to grab hold of her ankles. Sebastian stood up, grabbing a pair of heavy bladed scissors.

"Now, regarding this project, you will be assisting with the training of recruits. That is all you need to know." Baxter lifted her legs, and Sebastian started cutting odd her shoes, then the stockings. Once her legs were unclad, she was restored to a standing position while Sebastian continued to efficiently cut away the remainder of her clothing. In less that a minute, the only thing on her body was the yoke.

"Secure her in the chair."

She was placed in a chair in the corner of the office, similar in design to a gynecological chair. But this one had fittings that locked onto the yoke, as well as ankle restraints and a large strap that went over her lower abdomen and hips. Sebastian wheeled over a small table of instruments, and proceeded to examine her more personal places.

The speculum was cold when it was inserted, and he opened her up with little consideration for any physical discomfort she may have felt. He donned protective gloves, and proceeded to investigate in a very professional and thorough manner. He even took a swab from deep within, setting it aside for testing. He closed her up, removing the device and setting it in the table.

He reached for what looked like a remote camera on the end of a flexible tube, and inserted it into her anus. He put about one inch in, then stopped. Without a word, the tube started to inflate, stretching her sphincter. It only went a small distance before stopping. He cocked and eyebrow, turning to look at the image on the screen. He rotated the camera, nodding to himself. The device started to deflate, which he removed when back to it's normal size.

"Good health, no signs of injuries or disease. You have done remarkably well at looking after yourself." He checked her breasts, again with a professional, medical approach. He found no abnormal lumps, splits, fractures or tears in either breast. He went back to his desk, confirming that the details were up to date in the system.

"Good. All done." He looked over the console, straight at Zephyr as his finger descended on a particular point on the screen. "Farewell, Zephyr Blake. It has been a pleasure to meet you, for the short time we had together."

Sebastian's finger touched the screen, and the retinal and finger prints that were the central keys for everything to do with Zephyr Blake vanished completely 0.715 seconds later.