Peter Pratt stared at the tall glass of Sierra Mist sitting on the table before him. He could still remember the untold number of times he'd asked his daughter what she wanted to drink, and she had always answered, "See through, daddy. I want something see through."
She'd never cared whether is was Sierra Mist or Sprite or club soda with lemon juice for that matter; she'd simply wanted to look through the clear drink and let the carbonation bubbles alter the view of her world.
Those days were gone now. She'd died almost three years earlier, hit by a texting driver while riding her bicycle. It had changed Peter's life, of course, in ways people would have expected. He suddenly didn't care what happened to him, and became haphazard with his safety and decisions about his future.
Those decisions had resulted in him volunteering for Project Y ... and the experiments at what was only known as The Clinic changed his life in ways no one outside the secure science facility that was now his home could ever have imagined.
Peter heard a grumbling voice, followed by a profanity, outside the door to what his keepers called his quarters but what he called his cell. "Pratt! What did I tell you about blocking the view?"
Peter smiled, pleased with himself. He looked to the camera in the upper corner of the room. It had taken almost thirty minutes of sling shotting, but he'd finally gotten his tightie whities to cover the lens. The window at the door was covered as well, with his his tee shirt spread out over it like a curtain.
"Fuck you, Doc!" Peter called from his bed in the corner opposite the door. He stood atop the simple military style, metal spring bed and began jumping up and down as he added, "Why don't you come in and we'll practice our synchronized trampoline routine for the 2016 Olympics."
Peter continued bouncing roughly upon the bed, ensuring that the noise could be heard beyond the door, even if he himself couldn't be seen. He began singing loudly -- only emphasizing his position away from the door -- as his gaze was set upon the door handle. It took longer than he'd expected for the men on the other side of the barrier to decide to enter, but the instant that he saw the door handle shift under the movement of being unlocked on the other side, Peter shifted his bouncing forward ... one, two jumps, each getting him higher until finally--
As the door opened and one of the armed guards entered first, Peter bounded off the bed, high and forward. The guard never saw him coming, of course, and was unprepared; he took the full force of the 205 pound former college football tide end in his chest and was thrown back into both the other guard and the man in the long white lab coat.
Peter tried to land on his feet, but -- as the others also did -- he tumbled to the hard tiled floor. Being aware that an attack had been imminent, though, served him well, and in a flash, he was on his feet and rushing down the facility's wide, white washed passageway, screaming like a madman, ""He's at the twenty ... he's at the ten ... he's gonna scoooooore....!"
He turned a corner and, seeing a cart full of medical equipment, put his weight into it and shoved it down the hallway. Then, quickly, he skidded to a stop, moved to the wall, and waited. Just a few seconds later, the two guards -- followed closely by the obviously disoriented Doc -- flew around the corner in hot pursuit.
Again, they never saw him. Peter gave them a moment, then casually headed back down the hallway in the direction they'd all come from. He looked to the redheaded beauty standing at what would have been called the Nurse's Station -- if this had been a public hospital and not a top secret government testing facility -- and smiled at the shock in her face and the faces of the others who had seen -- and not seen -- the encounter just yards away from them.
Peter moved around behind the Nurse's Station, moving up close behind the Tyler, closer than a male Project Y patient should have been to one of its female workers. He slid up close to her, making contact, causing her to flinch and give a light, short yelp. One of the other Attendants looked her way, asking if she was okay.
"Shhh..." Peter whispered close to her ear. He pressed even closer to her, until he could feel his groin -- with his penis in a semi-excited state -- pressing against one of her firm buttock cheeks. He moved his lips closer yet, until she shivered at the feel of them brushing her fine red hair against her ear. "You don't want them to think you're an accomplice, do you?"
Peter laid his left hand upon Tyler's hip, then slid it slowly to her front and, finding the lower hem of her blouse, caressed it up under the cloth until he found the warm, smooth flesh of her flat belly. He could sense her nervousness and repeated his soft shush. He brought his right hand up, crossing it before his face to pull the long hair to behind her left shoulder, exposing the flawless, fair skin of her neck.
Peter and Tyler had flirted a great deal over the previous months -- even before last month's Exercise 43-B turned him into the invisible man -- but this, right now, was as intimate as they'd ever been with one another. He didn't know how far he could push it before she would simply pull away and turn him in. He wanted her -- he'd told her as much the week before 43-B -- but they'd been interrupted before she'd had a chance to respond, so he had no idea what her feeling were for him.
There was a ruckus down the hallway, and suddenly the original two guards and four more appeared. They were quickly opening doors and rushing down short passages, sweeping infrared detectors before them, searching for Peter's heat signature.
"Where the fuck are you, Peter?" the Doc was calling out as he reappeared as well. "You didn't get passed the security corridor, so we know you're here!"
One of the guards approached the Nurse's Station, examining the area and the half dozen men and women standing there. Peter pulled Tyler's body harder to him, trying to hide his presence behind her ... but also enjoying the sensation of his now totally hard cock pressing into the crevice of her firm, round buttocks.
"You can turn me in, Tee," he said, using the nickname he'd given her with the explanation that its purpose had been to add even more ominous secrecy to an already top secret project. "Or ... you can finally answer the question you know you want to say yes to."
And as he waited to see what her reaction would be, he pulled her hair back a bit farther, hoping no one would see the locks seemingly moving on their own, and kissed her on the back of her neck.
She'd never cared whether is was Sierra Mist or Sprite or club soda with lemon juice for that matter; she'd simply wanted to look through the clear drink and let the carbonation bubbles alter the view of her world.
Those days were gone now. She'd died almost three years earlier, hit by a texting driver while riding her bicycle. It had changed Peter's life, of course, in ways people would have expected. He suddenly didn't care what happened to him, and became haphazard with his safety and decisions about his future.
Those decisions had resulted in him volunteering for Project Y ... and the experiments at what was only known as The Clinic changed his life in ways no one outside the secure science facility that was now his home could ever have imagined.
Peter heard a grumbling voice, followed by a profanity, outside the door to what his keepers called his quarters but what he called his cell. "Pratt! What did I tell you about blocking the view?"
Peter smiled, pleased with himself. He looked to the camera in the upper corner of the room. It had taken almost thirty minutes of sling shotting, but he'd finally gotten his tightie whities to cover the lens. The window at the door was covered as well, with his his tee shirt spread out over it like a curtain.
"Fuck you, Doc!" Peter called from his bed in the corner opposite the door. He stood atop the simple military style, metal spring bed and began jumping up and down as he added, "Why don't you come in and we'll practice our synchronized trampoline routine for the 2016 Olympics."
Peter continued bouncing roughly upon the bed, ensuring that the noise could be heard beyond the door, even if he himself couldn't be seen. He began singing loudly -- only emphasizing his position away from the door -- as his gaze was set upon the door handle. It took longer than he'd expected for the men on the other side of the barrier to decide to enter, but the instant that he saw the door handle shift under the movement of being unlocked on the other side, Peter shifted his bouncing forward ... one, two jumps, each getting him higher until finally--
As the door opened and one of the armed guards entered first, Peter bounded off the bed, high and forward. The guard never saw him coming, of course, and was unprepared; he took the full force of the 205 pound former college football tide end in his chest and was thrown back into both the other guard and the man in the long white lab coat.
Peter tried to land on his feet, but -- as the others also did -- he tumbled to the hard tiled floor. Being aware that an attack had been imminent, though, served him well, and in a flash, he was on his feet and rushing down the facility's wide, white washed passageway, screaming like a madman, ""He's at the twenty ... he's at the ten ... he's gonna scoooooore....!"
He turned a corner and, seeing a cart full of medical equipment, put his weight into it and shoved it down the hallway. Then, quickly, he skidded to a stop, moved to the wall, and waited. Just a few seconds later, the two guards -- followed closely by the obviously disoriented Doc -- flew around the corner in hot pursuit.
Again, they never saw him. Peter gave them a moment, then casually headed back down the hallway in the direction they'd all come from. He looked to the redheaded beauty standing at what would have been called the Nurse's Station -- if this had been a public hospital and not a top secret government testing facility -- and smiled at the shock in her face and the faces of the others who had seen -- and not seen -- the encounter just yards away from them.
Peter moved around behind the Nurse's Station, moving up close behind the Tyler, closer than a male Project Y patient should have been to one of its female workers. He slid up close to her, making contact, causing her to flinch and give a light, short yelp. One of the other Attendants looked her way, asking if she was okay.
"Shhh..." Peter whispered close to her ear. He pressed even closer to her, until he could feel his groin -- with his penis in a semi-excited state -- pressing against one of her firm buttock cheeks. He moved his lips closer yet, until she shivered at the feel of them brushing her fine red hair against her ear. "You don't want them to think you're an accomplice, do you?"
Peter laid his left hand upon Tyler's hip, then slid it slowly to her front and, finding the lower hem of her blouse, caressed it up under the cloth until he found the warm, smooth flesh of her flat belly. He could sense her nervousness and repeated his soft shush. He brought his right hand up, crossing it before his face to pull the long hair to behind her left shoulder, exposing the flawless, fair skin of her neck.
Peter and Tyler had flirted a great deal over the previous months -- even before last month's Exercise 43-B turned him into the invisible man -- but this, right now, was as intimate as they'd ever been with one another. He didn't know how far he could push it before she would simply pull away and turn him in. He wanted her -- he'd told her as much the week before 43-B -- but they'd been interrupted before she'd had a chance to respond, so he had no idea what her feeling were for him.
There was a ruckus down the hallway, and suddenly the original two guards and four more appeared. They were quickly opening doors and rushing down short passages, sweeping infrared detectors before them, searching for Peter's heat signature.
"Where the fuck are you, Peter?" the Doc was calling out as he reappeared as well. "You didn't get passed the security corridor, so we know you're here!"
One of the guards approached the Nurse's Station, examining the area and the half dozen men and women standing there. Peter pulled Tyler's body harder to him, trying to hide his presence behind her ... but also enjoying the sensation of his now totally hard cock pressing into the crevice of her firm, round buttocks.
"You can turn me in, Tee," he said, using the nickname he'd given her with the explanation that its purpose had been to add even more ominous secrecy to an already top secret project. "Or ... you can finally answer the question you know you want to say yes to."
And as he waited to see what her reaction would be, he pulled her hair back a bit farther, hoping no one would see the locks seemingly moving on their own, and kissed her on the back of her neck.
