AdvExGen A Field Agent of Valentina s Espionage
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Stella shuffled her papers into a neat rectangle and slid them into a leather portfolio. Around the table, the other members of her team were doing the same. They were all locals, but Stella had flown in from headquarters on the East Coast for the meeting. Now she was ready to be gone. Nobody really knew what to expect ahead of a kick-off aquisition meeting like this but, from Stella’s point of view, it had not gone well. Ero-Tech’s technologies were certainly interesting, but they had sidestepped her security concerns and, even worse, their company valuation was ridiculously, insultingly, high. She put that down to a rookie mistake - they had started high, expecting to be cut down, but they had seriously overdone it. She had hoped to avoid that little dance and get straight to a meaningful negotiation, but now it looked as if she would have to come back for at least one more meeting.
As the last of her team said their goodbyes and headed for the door, Heather Long, Ero-Tech’s CEO, sidled over and suggested she might want to stay behind for a few minutes. She stifled a flash of irritation and smiled pleasantly. She had plenty of time to get to the airport but she had been hoping for a relaxing massage in the airline’s upper class lounge.
Eventually the two women were alone in the conference room. “Sorry to be so mysterious,” said Heather, “but I wanted to show you one more demonstration. I think it will answer your security question, and also your unspoken doubts about our valuation.” Stella was a little surprised. She had not questioned the valuation out loud, and she prided herself on her poker face, but she had practically had to peel her eyelids off the ceiling after seeing the number. Perhaps her body language had betrayed her - she would have to work on that. “This is something you couldn’t mention during the meeting?” she said, trying for a tone of pleasant curiosity rather than irritation. “Exactly,” said Heather “This is an extremely sensitive project. We have to keep the number of people in the loop to an absolute minimum. In fact, apart from myself and the members of the research team, no one in the company has any awareness of its true objectives. And although your team all signed a non-disclosure agreement, I must ask you for a little extra reassurance on this topic. If I could have your word that you will discuss what you’re about to see with no one except your own CEO? ...”
”Of course, that won’t be a problem.” said Stella, intrigued in spite of herself.
Heather led the way to the executive elevator and pressed B3. Stella had noticed the buttons for the three basement levels below the entrance lobby, but had assumed they were parking or storage. Now it seemed that much more interesting things were happening underground.
The elevator slid smoothly to a stop on B3, and the doors hissed open onto a small reception area. But the receptionist was an armed security guard. He made a show of examining Heather’s id card, though he clearly recognized her, and typed something on his keyboard. The door to his left clicked open.
Heather ushered Stella into a long corridor containing nothing but a series of lettered doors: B3a, B3b, B3c... She stopped in front of B3c, palmed her id badge against the lock, and showed Stella inside.
The room was small, dimly lit, and sparsely furnished with just a low coffee table and a pair of chairs. The only illumination came from a large window in the opposite wall, that gave onto a larger, brightly lit room on the other side. What Stella saw through that window stopped her in her tracks.
Just a few feet on the other side of the glass was a tubular metal frame. Suspended from it was an attractive young woman, slender, with short red hair, and completely naked. She was covered in a slick sheen of sweat, and breathing heavily
through a ring-gag that held her mouth open and prevented her from speaking. It seemed that she was either in pain or panting from some kind of exertion, though the device was clearly not a treadmill. Her eyes were open but she did not react to their presence. It appeared that she could not see them, that all she could see was a reflection of her own predicament.
Stella could not believe what she was seeing. It took several seconds before she was able to speak. “What the hell is this?”
Heather replied as if there was nothing at all unusual happening. “Until quite recently, Miss ... ‘Silk’ ... here was a member of the research team working on the sensitive project I mentioned. We were monitoring the team closely, and some aspects of her behavior raised red flags. She had announced that she would be taking a one-week vacation in the south of France. We did a little digging and discovered that she also had a return ticket from Nice to Tokyo. It seemed curious that she hadn’t mentioned that to anyone. The limo that arrived to take her to the airport was one of ours. It was a simple matter for the driver to disable the door locks and drive her here instead. She made quite a fuss, yelling and banging on the windows, but of course they were too dark for anyone to see. In her purse we found a thumb drive with all kinds of proprietary information on it. She did not have a satisfactory explanation. It was easy for one of our security team to make the flight to Nice in her place, and then simply disappear. As far as anyone knows, she arrived in France and hasn’t been seen since. And that’s how Miss Silk came to be still part of the research team, but now in more of a test-subject role, as you can see.”
Stella’s mind was reeling. She could barely take it all in. In less than five minutes she had apparently gone from a routine business meeting to the Spanish Inquisition.
“I don’t understand - is this some kind of interrogation?”
”Oh, no, not at all. As soon as we found the thumb drive and told her we knew about the Tokyo ticket, she realized there was no point in lying to us. She has told us all we needed to know about the deal she made.
No, what’s happening to her now is related to the product the team has developed - she’s helping us with some advanced testing regimes.”
”I still don’t understand - what is the product?”
”Well,” said Heather, “do you remember hearing, some time ago, about a series of experiments in which scientists implanted probes into the pleasure centers of rats’ brains so that the a****ls could trigger an orgasm by pressing a button?”
”Yes, of course - it didn’t go so well for the rats, did it? They just kept pressing the button, even to the exclusion of eating and drinking, until they died.”
”Exactly,” said Heather. “Well, we have discovered how to achieve the same effect through magnetic resonance coupling with the brain - completely non-surgical. You see the headband?”
Stella noticed for the first time the slim black band that ran around Miss Silk’s forehead. She had been so distracted by the sheer physical presence of the naked, sweating girl, that she hadn’t been able to think of much else. But she now began to notice other details. To one side of her head, within easy reach, hung what looked like a water bottle from a pet cage. The fluid it contained, however, was opaque and milky. To the other side hung a small black pad, featureless except for two gold dots in the center, perhaps a half inch apart. A tangle of slim wires descended from it, then arced up to disappear behind Miss Silk’s body where they presumably connected with the back of the headband. She nodded, but before she could formulate her next question, Heather said: “I think we’ll get a better view from the other side, don’t you?”, opened the door next to the window, and stepped through.
Stella followed in a daze, finding herself standing mere inches from the restrained, naked girl, enveloped in a heady miasma of heat, sweat and musk. Miss Silk’s eyes darted from Heather to Stella and back, while a deep blush suffused her beautiful features.
”We won’t have to be patient for much longer,” said Heather, “Miss Silk doesn’t like to ‘perform’ in front of an audience that she can see, but the fact is that she simply can’t resist for very long, can you dear?”
As if these words had pushed her over the edge of her remaining willpower, Miss Silk closed her eyes in resignation, turned her head to the side, pushed her tongue through the hole in the ring-gag, and touched the contacts on the black pad.
Immediately she convulsed, moaning and thrusting her hips forward, in what was obviously a powerful and prolonged orgasm, completely oblivious now to the presence of spectators.
Stella took a half step back. Despite the prior talk of direct pleasure center stimulation, she had been completely unprepared for this. To be so close to this woman, this complete stranger, in the throes of her most intense and intimate pleasure, felt like a terrible violation, but at the same time she could not suppress a flush of excitement.
Eventually Miss Silk’s squirming subsided, leaving her slumped and panting in her restraints, as she had been when they arrived.
When Stella could at last speak, she asked: “How long has she been like this?”
Heather consulted a computer monitor to one side of the frame. “This is day 6, orgasm number 592.”
”My god, are you trying to kill her?”
”Oh, no, we’re taking good care of her. The fluid is a protein/carb/electrolyte shake that provides all the nutrition she needs. And we change her position every hour to protect her circulation. And, of course, we clean her up as necessary. She dozes off for a nap every few hours, but as soon as she wakes up she’s reaching for the pad again.”
”She was part of the research team, and yet she still did this?”
”Not entirely voluntarily, no. She put up quite a fight until we started her off with the first few orgasms, then she became very cooperative - it’s incredibly addictive.”
”I just don’t see the product application - you can’t do this to customers.”
”No, of course not. We’re still working the details, but the concept is that we would lease the device. It will be tamper-proof and self-limiting, allowing no more than 30 minutes of stimulation in any given 24-hour period, or something like that. We’re running simulations to optimize the revenue model - do we charge by the week, by the orgasm? We could lease them to individuals for home use, to organizations that could sell individual orgasms to end-users, there could be kiosks at airports. It’s completely addictive, and completely legal. Can you imagine the revenue streams?”
Stella could imagine it. She did imagine it. In fact she was now beginning to think Ero-tech’s valuation could be an order of magnitude too low.
”But, of course,” continued Heather, “we’re basically a technology company. All of that deployment and servicing is not our area of expertise - that’s where you come in.”
Stella’s mind was lost in a haze of revenue calculations. If they could deploy this a few years ahead of the competition, the market could be bigger than cell phones, and they could own it. But Heather was still speaking:
”And it’s not just a solitary masturbation aid, there are social possibilities as well. Let me demonstrate. Why don’t you ask Miss Silk if she would like to be touched?”
Stella raised an eyebrow. Had Heather somehow detected her level of arousal? She really would have to work on that. But Heather just gestured as if to say “Go ahead, you know you want to.”
After a token hesitation, Stella said “Miss Silk, would you like to be touched?”
Miss Silk, whose breathing had returned to near normal by now, blushed again, but nodded slowly with her eyes downcast.
Stella placed the flat of her hand on the girl’s sternum, fingers pointed downwards, and slid it down until her middle finger nestled snugly in the hot, wet folds of her intimate groove. She was wondering how far to go with this when Miss Silk took the initiative, closing her eyes, pushing her hips forward, and tongueing the black pad.
It was a repeat of the first time, except now the lovely girl was moaning and squirming against Stella’s fingers in irresistible waves of ecstasy. Stella was transfixed. She had never experienced something so intimate, so arousing, yet so frustrating. All she could do in response was to work her fingers and hand in time with the girl’s gyrations in an instinctive attempt to maximize her pleasure.
Eventually the pulsing subsided, and she withdrew her hand.
”There, Miss Silk,” said Heather, “it’s even better with touching, isn’t it?” and she discreetly handed Stella a wet-wipe.
Miss Silk nodded languidly without opening her eyes.
Stella wiped her hands, crossing her legs and squeezing them together hard while wishing for a few minutes of privacy, and struggling to regain her composure. She was supposed to be the seasoned negotiator here, yet she felt like a teenager having her first fumbling explorations.
Heather broke the spell: “Well, that’s about all I had to show you, and you have a plane to catch, unless you have any questions...”
”Not really,” said Stella, as they left the room, heading for the elevator, “except, what will you do with Miss Silk? You’re not going to ...”
”No, no.” said Heather, “We’ll release her tomorrow. She’s supposed to be back from her trip by then.”
”But how can you let her go? She knows your secrets, you k**napped her, you ... did things ... to her.”
”None of that will be a problem. We’ll continue to pay her salary, and we’ll give her a headband that we can control remotely. Trust me, she would do just about anything to avoid irritating us and having it turned off. And from time to time we might ask her to come back for some more tests, which she will willingly do. You don’t need to worry about Miss Silk.”
They said their goodbyes in the lobby, and the driver carried Stella’s bag to the waiting limo.
Heather bought herself a medium latte from the lobby coffee shop and stared into space thoughtfully. Of course the limo was theirs. On the way to the airport they would be monitoring Stella’s phone conversations carefully. If she showed any inclination to call anyone except her CEO and blab about what she had seen, the driver would pull a u-turn and she would find herself in the basement next to Miss Silk in nothing flat. Heather was conflicted. On the one hand she really wanted the deal to go ahead. On the other hand, she had devised a beautiful experiment in which the two girls would be constrained facing each other, but with their switches reversed so that each girl’s switch would trigger the other girl’s orgasm instead of her own. She honestly could not imagine how that would play out, but it would certainly be interesting to observe, and a nice consolation prize.
But, it would be half an hour at least before she would know whether that scenario would remain a fantasy. How to pass the time productively? She reached a conclusion and headed for the executive elevator. She would sip her latte while relaxing in room B3c. A medium should be good for two or three of Miss Silk’s beautiful orgasms...
As the last of her team said their goodbyes and headed for the door, Heather Long, Ero-Tech’s CEO, sidled over and suggested she might want to stay behind for a few minutes. She stifled a flash of irritation and smiled pleasantly. She had plenty of time to get to the airport but she had been hoping for a relaxing massage in the airline’s upper class lounge.
Eventually the two women were alone in the conference room. “Sorry to be so mysterious,” said Heather, “but I wanted to show you one more demonstration. I think it will answer your security question, and also your unspoken doubts about our valuation.” Stella was a little surprised. She had not questioned the valuation out loud, and she prided herself on her poker face, but she had practically had to peel her eyelids off the ceiling after seeing the number. Perhaps her body language had betrayed her - she would have to work on that. “This is something you couldn’t mention during the meeting?” she said, trying for a tone of pleasant curiosity rather than irritation. “Exactly,” said Heather “This is an extremely sensitive project. We have to keep the number of people in the loop to an absolute minimum. In fact, apart from myself and the members of the research team, no one in the company has any awareness of its true objectives. And although your team all signed a non-disclosure agreement, I must ask you for a little extra reassurance on this topic. If I could have your word that you will discuss what you’re about to see with no one except your own CEO? ...”
”Of course, that won’t be a problem.” said Stella, intrigued in spite of herself.
Heather led the way to the executive elevator and pressed B3. Stella had noticed the buttons for the three basement levels below the entrance lobby, but had assumed they were parking or storage. Now it seemed that much more interesting things were happening underground.
The elevator slid smoothly to a stop on B3, and the doors hissed open onto a small reception area. But the receptionist was an armed security guard. He made a show of examining Heather’s id card, though he clearly recognized her, and typed something on his keyboard. The door to his left clicked open.
Heather ushered Stella into a long corridor containing nothing but a series of lettered doors: B3a, B3b, B3c... She stopped in front of B3c, palmed her id badge against the lock, and showed Stella inside.
The room was small, dimly lit, and sparsely furnished with just a low coffee table and a pair of chairs. The only illumination came from a large window in the opposite wall, that gave onto a larger, brightly lit room on the other side. What Stella saw through that window stopped her in her tracks.
Just a few feet on the other side of the glass was a tubular metal frame. Suspended from it was an attractive young woman, slender, with short red hair, and completely naked. She was covered in a slick sheen of sweat, and breathing heavily
through a ring-gag that held her mouth open and prevented her from speaking. It seemed that she was either in pain or panting from some kind of exertion, though the device was clearly not a treadmill. Her eyes were open but she did not react to their presence. It appeared that she could not see them, that all she could see was a reflection of her own predicament.
Stella could not believe what she was seeing. It took several seconds before she was able to speak. “What the hell is this?”
Heather replied as if there was nothing at all unusual happening. “Until quite recently, Miss ... ‘Silk’ ... here was a member of the research team working on the sensitive project I mentioned. We were monitoring the team closely, and some aspects of her behavior raised red flags. She had announced that she would be taking a one-week vacation in the south of France. We did a little digging and discovered that she also had a return ticket from Nice to Tokyo. It seemed curious that she hadn’t mentioned that to anyone. The limo that arrived to take her to the airport was one of ours. It was a simple matter for the driver to disable the door locks and drive her here instead. She made quite a fuss, yelling and banging on the windows, but of course they were too dark for anyone to see. In her purse we found a thumb drive with all kinds of proprietary information on it. She did not have a satisfactory explanation. It was easy for one of our security team to make the flight to Nice in her place, and then simply disappear. As far as anyone knows, she arrived in France and hasn’t been seen since. And that’s how Miss Silk came to be still part of the research team, but now in more of a test-subject role, as you can see.”
Stella’s mind was reeling. She could barely take it all in. In less than five minutes she had apparently gone from a routine business meeting to the Spanish Inquisition.
“I don’t understand - is this some kind of interrogation?”
”Oh, no, not at all. As soon as we found the thumb drive and told her we knew about the Tokyo ticket, she realized there was no point in lying to us. She has told us all we needed to know about the deal she made.
No, what’s happening to her now is related to the product the team has developed - she’s helping us with some advanced testing regimes.”
”I still don’t understand - what is the product?”
”Well,” said Heather, “do you remember hearing, some time ago, about a series of experiments in which scientists implanted probes into the pleasure centers of rats’ brains so that the a****ls could trigger an orgasm by pressing a button?”
”Yes, of course - it didn’t go so well for the rats, did it? They just kept pressing the button, even to the exclusion of eating and drinking, until they died.”
”Exactly,” said Heather. “Well, we have discovered how to achieve the same effect through magnetic resonance coupling with the brain - completely non-surgical. You see the headband?”
Stella noticed for the first time the slim black band that ran around Miss Silk’s forehead. She had been so distracted by the sheer physical presence of the naked, sweating girl, that she hadn’t been able to think of much else. But she now began to notice other details. To one side of her head, within easy reach, hung what looked like a water bottle from a pet cage. The fluid it contained, however, was opaque and milky. To the other side hung a small black pad, featureless except for two gold dots in the center, perhaps a half inch apart. A tangle of slim wires descended from it, then arced up to disappear behind Miss Silk’s body where they presumably connected with the back of the headband. She nodded, but before she could formulate her next question, Heather said: “I think we’ll get a better view from the other side, don’t you?”, opened the door next to the window, and stepped through.
Stella followed in a daze, finding herself standing mere inches from the restrained, naked girl, enveloped in a heady miasma of heat, sweat and musk. Miss Silk’s eyes darted from Heather to Stella and back, while a deep blush suffused her beautiful features.
”We won’t have to be patient for much longer,” said Heather, “Miss Silk doesn’t like to ‘perform’ in front of an audience that she can see, but the fact is that she simply can’t resist for very long, can you dear?”
As if these words had pushed her over the edge of her remaining willpower, Miss Silk closed her eyes in resignation, turned her head to the side, pushed her tongue through the hole in the ring-gag, and touched the contacts on the black pad.
Immediately she convulsed, moaning and thrusting her hips forward, in what was obviously a powerful and prolonged orgasm, completely oblivious now to the presence of spectators.
Stella took a half step back. Despite the prior talk of direct pleasure center stimulation, she had been completely unprepared for this. To be so close to this woman, this complete stranger, in the throes of her most intense and intimate pleasure, felt like a terrible violation, but at the same time she could not suppress a flush of excitement.
Eventually Miss Silk’s squirming subsided, leaving her slumped and panting in her restraints, as she had been when they arrived.
When Stella could at last speak, she asked: “How long has she been like this?”
Heather consulted a computer monitor to one side of the frame. “This is day 6, orgasm number 592.”
”My god, are you trying to kill her?”
”Oh, no, we’re taking good care of her. The fluid is a protein/carb/electrolyte shake that provides all the nutrition she needs. And we change her position every hour to protect her circulation. And, of course, we clean her up as necessary. She dozes off for a nap every few hours, but as soon as she wakes up she’s reaching for the pad again.”
”She was part of the research team, and yet she still did this?”
”Not entirely voluntarily, no. She put up quite a fight until we started her off with the first few orgasms, then she became very cooperative - it’s incredibly addictive.”
”I just don’t see the product application - you can’t do this to customers.”
”No, of course not. We’re still working the details, but the concept is that we would lease the device. It will be tamper-proof and self-limiting, allowing no more than 30 minutes of stimulation in any given 24-hour period, or something like that. We’re running simulations to optimize the revenue model - do we charge by the week, by the orgasm? We could lease them to individuals for home use, to organizations that could sell individual orgasms to end-users, there could be kiosks at airports. It’s completely addictive, and completely legal. Can you imagine the revenue streams?”
Stella could imagine it. She did imagine it. In fact she was now beginning to think Ero-tech’s valuation could be an order of magnitude too low.
”But, of course,” continued Heather, “we’re basically a technology company. All of that deployment and servicing is not our area of expertise - that’s where you come in.”
Stella’s mind was lost in a haze of revenue calculations. If they could deploy this a few years ahead of the competition, the market could be bigger than cell phones, and they could own it. But Heather was still speaking:
”And it’s not just a solitary masturbation aid, there are social possibilities as well. Let me demonstrate. Why don’t you ask Miss Silk if she would like to be touched?”
Stella raised an eyebrow. Had Heather somehow detected her level of arousal? She really would have to work on that. But Heather just gestured as if to say “Go ahead, you know you want to.”
After a token hesitation, Stella said “Miss Silk, would you like to be touched?”
Miss Silk, whose breathing had returned to near normal by now, blushed again, but nodded slowly with her eyes downcast.
Stella placed the flat of her hand on the girl’s sternum, fingers pointed downwards, and slid it down until her middle finger nestled snugly in the hot, wet folds of her intimate groove. She was wondering how far to go with this when Miss Silk took the initiative, closing her eyes, pushing her hips forward, and tongueing the black pad.
It was a repeat of the first time, except now the lovely girl was moaning and squirming against Stella’s fingers in irresistible waves of ecstasy. Stella was transfixed. She had never experienced something so intimate, so arousing, yet so frustrating. All she could do in response was to work her fingers and hand in time with the girl’s gyrations in an instinctive attempt to maximize her pleasure.
Eventually the pulsing subsided, and she withdrew her hand.
”There, Miss Silk,” said Heather, “it’s even better with touching, isn’t it?” and she discreetly handed Stella a wet-wipe.
Miss Silk nodded languidly without opening her eyes.
Stella wiped her hands, crossing her legs and squeezing them together hard while wishing for a few minutes of privacy, and struggling to regain her composure. She was supposed to be the seasoned negotiator here, yet she felt like a teenager having her first fumbling explorations.
Heather broke the spell: “Well, that’s about all I had to show you, and you have a plane to catch, unless you have any questions...”
”Not really,” said Stella, as they left the room, heading for the elevator, “except, what will you do with Miss Silk? You’re not going to ...”
”No, no.” said Heather, “We’ll release her tomorrow. She’s supposed to be back from her trip by then.”
”But how can you let her go? She knows your secrets, you k**napped her, you ... did things ... to her.”
”None of that will be a problem. We’ll continue to pay her salary, and we’ll give her a headband that we can control remotely. Trust me, she would do just about anything to avoid irritating us and having it turned off. And from time to time we might ask her to come back for some more tests, which she will willingly do. You don’t need to worry about Miss Silk.”
They said their goodbyes in the lobby, and the driver carried Stella’s bag to the waiting limo.
Heather bought herself a medium latte from the lobby coffee shop and stared into space thoughtfully. Of course the limo was theirs. On the way to the airport they would be monitoring Stella’s phone conversations carefully. If she showed any inclination to call anyone except her CEO and blab about what she had seen, the driver would pull a u-turn and she would find herself in the basement next to Miss Silk in nothing flat. Heather was conflicted. On the one hand she really wanted the deal to go ahead. On the other hand, she had devised a beautiful experiment in which the two girls would be constrained facing each other, but with their switches reversed so that each girl’s switch would trigger the other girl’s orgasm instead of her own. She honestly could not imagine how that would play out, but it would certainly be interesting to observe, and a nice consolation prize.
But, it would be half an hour at least before she would know whether that scenario would remain a fantasy. How to pass the time productively? She reached a conclusion and headed for the executive elevator. She would sip her latte while relaxing in room B3c. A medium should be good for two or three of Miss Silk’s beautiful orgasms...
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