Free Use Experiment Ch. 09

Staring at the screens, no one present dared to look anywhere else as everyone was fully aware that Damian wasn't happy. Gaining his attention could lead to a verbal tongue lashing, or worse, consideration as a free-use partner. Even his assistant, Mercedes, was on edge, barking at anyone who even looked in their boss's direction, standing as he was in the middle of the large room. It was common knowledge that he'd barely slept and had hardly eaten, so focused was he upon the experiment, he had devoted everything to it, even his well-being.

Staring at the screens, Damian was unhappy with the data that flashed before him. It wasn't what he'd predicted, which meant that there must be something wrong with the experiment. He just couldn't see what.

Mercedes recognised the signs in her boss's behaviour and, having debated its necessity for some time, came to a necessary decision.

"Everyone," she snapped, "leave the room."

Although she was not male, everyone recognised that not obeying Mercedes would undoubtedly end in the same manner as if she were, in their removal from the experiment. Immediately, everyone prepared to leave.

"Team two will return after an hour," Mercedes barked, "while other shifts will continue as usual unless otherwise specified. Now, out!"

As this last word reverberated across the room no one spoke, instead, silently following their orders, they all calmly left the room.

As the last person left, Mercedes let out an unhappy sigh. Damian had shown little reaction to the entirety of the room now being empty, and it worried her that her boss, her friend, had lately completely stopped taking care of himself. He even seemed to be making decisions on instinct rather than following the evidence and making decisions based on hard facts. This was disconcerting, and just not his usual behaviour.

Pushing her glasses back up her face, Mercedes' appearance was somewhat different than the first day of the experiment, where she'd travelled in the limo with Damian and the male participants. Gone was the gold underwear, in its place a smart dress skirt, pale-blue long-sleeve shirt, topped by a pure-white lab coat, her long blonde hair tied tightly into a ponytail. Whereas she'd felt quite exposed in the limousine, here in this environment she felt happy. She knew she was attractive, and because of that Damian enjoyed putting her into embarrassing situations, but despite this, somehow, he was the only person she had eyes for, and it had only been him for quite some time.

Standing tall in the middle of the room, surrounded by screens and computers, Damian looked somewhat ridiculous in the silvery, modern room, dressed as he was in a white suit with a white cowboy shirt (with tassels!), white trousers and white cowboy boots to match. He looked like a caricature of the colonel, but there was more to Damian than eleven herbs and spices.

"Sir," Mercedes spoke politely, "I hope I do not overstep my boundaries, but I believe that you have spent too much time working, and nowhere near enough time resting or generally looking after yourself."

With no response forthcoming, she decided to move closer towards Damian where, with one deft move, she unbuttoned his trousers before removing both them and his underwear, ignoring the fact he still wore tighty-whities.

Revealed was a flaccid cock, surrounded by a forest of white hair. None of this seemed to bother Mercedes who, kneeling before him, quickly took the soft lump into her mouth, bobbing in and out past her lips.

Slowly Damian grew, revealing a fairly average-sized cock, about five and a half inches and circumcised, yet while his assistant went to town, practically inhaling him down before working him over with her tongue and hands, the man barely responded as he remained lost in thought.

He felt angry that things weren't going as predicted, that the model he'd created, that he'd had assessed and confirmed as mathematically sound, was not being proven correct.

He'd been so sure that he could predict behaviours, especially primal acts like sex and lust, but these people were ruining it by letting their emotions take charge of them, something that he had dismissed out of hand. With such a large array of stunningly beautiful women on hand, what idiot would go back and fuck the same person again and again? And it wasn't even just the one!

Graham had been the first, yet his behaviour was confusing too. He professed love for Georgia, one of his very own researchers, but then slept with countless others! Both of them had even brought others into their relationship and then expressed jealousy of their own creation. No calculations could account for such lunacy.

Sve and Richard had also bought into relationships. Even that odious little twerp Rayne had been monogamous since his triste with Gina had begun. Worst of all, Noel had met someone, both of whom Damian had brought in as evidence that even the virginal could be corrupted. He'd wanted to see if both of them would fail in their celibacy, but as it turned out the presence of the other just strengthened each other's resolve.

Feeling something pleasurable between his legs, he looked down upon Mercedes, his trusted assistant, with whom he'd brought up from a freshly graduated naive scientist and who had worked with him for nigh on ten years. Their relationship was mostly professional he argued, Mercedes' now gently sucking on one of his hairy balls before her tongue licked up his length, there were just a few aspects of their professional relationship that he accepted were unique.

Watching her suck upon his length, he'd always felt more relaxed when she was doing this, something she'd begun doing so he could think and consider without the wasps in his head. It got rid of the distractions and, as no one else they'd tried out instead of Mercedes helped him feel anywhere near so relaxed, she was undoubtedly the best person to be his right-hand man, as it were. Solid, flexible, willing to follow his every whim. Except...

He'd had other women sexually of course, as he knew Mercedes had been with other men, but Mercedes was the only one who allowed him to move into a trance like this, where he could solve the issues that irked him. He trusted her to do whatever she, and he, needed, without needing to correct or guide him. He was comfortable with her, and... and...

Ah. He'd diagnosed the problem.

Around him in this inner sanctum worked countless stunning women, beauties all, but he'd not even considered that he would sleep with any one of them other than Mercedes. Yet in an experiment where he could have had anyone, due to his obsession he had even neglected her.

More than anything she was an important part of his decision-making process and by ignoring her, he'd ignored the maths. His calculations had intentionally ignored the effect emotions would have upon the relationships within the group, so what if...

"Mercedes," he spoke clearly while his assistant's tongue ran around his bulbous head, "I need you to calculate the result if you take into account emotions."

Popping him out of her mouth, she responded politely.

"I'll need to use a computer," she spoke even as she continued to wank him off.

"Agreed."

Permission granted, Mercedes stopped what she was doing and walked to her own desktop. Rather than sitting down, the calculations being rather simple, she bent over the keyboard, expecting this to take only a few moments. To her surprise, she felt her skirt lifted over her back and her comfortable lingerie removed, and a hand began to press against her cunt. She smiled and immediately felt more relaxed as he did so. This was how Damian was when he was himself and he needed to relax his conscious mind. And, as she felt her own body react willingly, it was about damn time.

Moving his dick against her slit, Damian pressed against her until he felt sufficient wetness, only then sliding inside her. He took his time, not wanting to cause discomfort to Mercedes, who continued to insert and calculate the numbers despite his manoeuvring himself inside her.

"The numbers," her words came out stilted, in time with Damian's thrusts, "show a, response that, fits in with, the, current, traj... oooh... ectory," Mercedes struggled to concentrate on her work, even for Damian this was intense. He must have been incredibly frustrated, "and, means, that, your, inte... oh fuck, fuck!"

Forgetting all that was before her, the assistant was lost in a swirl of emotions and lust that distracted her completely and utterly, her chest now pressing against the cool plastic of the desk, her shirt and bra feeling stifling as her body temperature rocketed up. As if reading her mind, Damian pulled her shirt open, the buttons that were removed clattered against the desk, yet unheard by either participant, as one of Damian's large hands pressed against the bra on her upper back, while his stomach lay against her lower back.

They fucked in that position until Damian could stand it no longer and, moving his hands to Mercedes's slim waist, thrust vigorously until he felt himself twitch, his balls tightening as he released deep within her, where he pressed his groin against her ass, letting every drop drip out. He felt reborn and relaxed, like everything was clear once more, and it was all down to his assistant, although he now recognised that she had always been more than that.

Clearing her throat, Damian still within her, Mercedes continued.

"The numbers show that your interference is causing more issues within the experiment," she swallowed, "than any of the individuals involved."

Nodding, Damian slowly exited Mercedes, causing his sperm to slowly begin dripping from within her warm, sopping cunt, leaking down her leg and even into her displaced panties.

"That would be the conclusion I've come to as well," he nodded, his voice emotionless "now if you wouldn't mind cleaning me up."

Turning around, still dripping, she returned to Damian's cock. Now covered in his cum, as well as her own juices, she placed it back within her mouth, licking and cleaning until it was clear. As she did so, Damian began to speak.

"I am of the conclusion that I have become too emotional within the experiment," he moaned as Mercedes nodded, her mouth slipping up and down his sensitive length as she did so, "and believe I have an effective solution, although your input would be appreciated."

Finished cleaning, Mercedes stood, readjusting her skirt and underwear as she did so.

"As you know sir," she spoke politely and professionally, "I am your faithful servant."

"Yes, Mercedes, that has occurred to me," a smile appeared below his moustache, a twinkle in his eyes, "I believe that the only way to gain the correct result, which I now accept may not be the result I want, is that I stop interfering."

"Masterful sir," Mercedes teased gently, "I would never have considered that."

A frown appeared on Damian's face.

"That sounds like insubordination Mercedes," he chided.

"I am your assistant sir, not your bitch," she corrected, "and I have been hoping that you'd recognise the issue but felt that interference could have caused a defensive reaction that would have skewed the data even more."

"That is true," Damian accepted this, and even appeared contrite, "I apologise, Mercedes, you've always been a magnificent assistant, and, perhaps," he admitted, "perhaps more."

It wasn't normal for Mercedes to feel nervous or shy, but this admittance was a rare event from her boss.

"I have been so obsessed with striking down emotional interference, not just now, but for the last few years, that I have failed to consider how it's a natural part of human existence. How can I demand the participants act like robots when I am so personally reliant on one person?"

Silent, Mercedes felt a burning in her face, her cheeks going red. He couldn't be admitting that he... could he?

"If it is okay with you Mercedes," pausing, Damian gulped, "I would appreciate more input from you, both for work and... non-work matters."

Known to many of her colleagues as an emotionless robot, Mercedes had long fostered a facade of putting work before everything and anything else. Therefore, Damian was completely taken aback when she burst into tears.

"Mercedes?" He asked with a trace of panic, "Is everything okay?"

There was no real answer other than continued sobbing. What the hell did he do now? He'd grown up in Texas, where men were raised to be men! This was supposed to be mean tough and masculine but had rapidly become an inability to be emotionally available, so to be alone in such a situation caused Damian to feel an emotion akin to panic.

Doing his best, he placed an arm on one of her shoulders.

"There, there..." his words came out stilted and uncertain, but they appeared to have an effect, even if not the one intended, as Mercedes threw herself at Damian and held him as tightly as she could, still crying.

It took approximately five minutes of comforting, or at least saying 'there, there' many more times, before the tears finally dried, although Mercedes' arms remained tight around her boss. Her boss, honestly...

Letting go, she removed her glasses and wiped her eyes.

"I would like to apologise for that unexpectedly emotional display," she spoke quietly, the air of professionalism ruined by her shirt remaining mostly open, most of the buttons now strewn across the floor, "I just, I got carried away. I, well," she tittered, "I appreciated the encouragement and your request for further, input..." she sniffed, struggling to prevent more tears from spilling, only continuing when she was certain it was controlled, "and, if I may be so bold, I have been wanting that for some time."

If anything, now that Mercedes' had explained why, Damian was even more perplexed.

"Why on earth would you want that?" He declared, "I'm an old man, you're a beautiful woman..."

"Sir, you have been surrounded by beautiful women," Mercedes tone was one to not be trifled with, "but rather than increasing your sexual appetite, this whole experiment you have abstained completely."

"Oh, well," Damian delayed, "I suppose it reduced my sexual appetite a little..."

"Do not try to lie to me sir," Mercedes snapped, "I've seen your erections through your trousers. You've still been turned on, there was clearly something bothering you, yet when we were finally alone you allowed your honesty to come out, by taking me and fucking me, above all others." Tears appeared in her eyes, and she took a moment to compose herself.

"If there was ever a man I could love and adore sir, it would be the one who unconsciously chooses me above all others, as you have done."

It was now Damian's turn for his face to go bright red as he considered how he'd treated Mercedes over the last ten years. She was both a brilliant scientist and a beautiful woman, and he had effectively used her as a thinking aid rather than an actual assistant. He felt entirely embarrassed as he looked back upon his behaviour, although Mercedes' appeared to be reading his mind.

"You do not need to regret the last ten years sir," Mercedes smiled, "I enjoy our work, and that includes everything. Do you remember the first time sir? I do. You were stuck on a calculation and, thinking you were alone you began to, as they say, beat your meat. I walked in and spotted you. I could have left without you ever knowing, or I could have spoken up and told you how inappropriate it was. I could have left, but instead I decided to walk up behind you."

"I remember," Damian smiled, his moustache curling up, "you said, 'let me help you with that sir,' and took over from me. If I remember correctly, I lasted barely thirty seconds."

"And came up with the answer to your calculation," the blonde beauty interrupted with a smile of her own, "and since then sexual release has become our go-too."

His brow furrowing, something seemed to be concerning Damian.

"You never said anything though," he queried, "even when I continued dating or experimented with others to see if they could cause the same reaction within me, you never asked me to stop, you never showed interest."

"I did not want to lose you, sir," Mercedes admitted, "I enjoyed our professional relationship, likely because it crossed borders into personal without getting awkward. It was very matter-of-fact, and I appreciated it. I do not know how I would have managed if, wanting to take things further, you would have ended our professional relationship."

Looking into the eyes of the woman standing before him, Damian realised that he had never really noticed how green her eyes were, glittering like emeralds.

To the shock of them both, the doors opened, and team two began trundling through the doors.

"Wait outside!" Damian demanded, causing those through first to scuttle into those queuing outside, chaos ensuing, although as the door closed behind them the noise was no longer audible

With a wan smile on her face, Mercedes began to look embarrassed.

"I do not want you to feel forced into anything sir," she began, "I recognise that this experiment is so important to you, so if I have been unprofessional, or a distraction, I can tender my resignation..."

A more emotional or physically confident man would have pulled Mercedes into an embrace, kissed her passionately, or perhaps even taken her there and then upon one of the desks. Damian however had been brought up to stifle such emotional responses. Despite this, he did the best he could.

"I would refuse. You are my right-hand woman! And," he said quietly, "the only one I want. I could never ask for you to leave. You may, however," he spoke more firmly, "go and remove your personal items from your room."

Looking shocked, Mercedes was dumbfounded.

"What should I do with them, sir?"

"Oh, apologies," Damian guffawed, his moustache twitching in glee, "I thought it was obvious. You can put them in my, I mean, our room instead."

Again not one for spontaneous emotional responses, Mercedes held out her hand to Damians, who took it. They shook hands, Damian planting a swift kiss on her right cheek.

"You can go do that now," Damian spoke, unruffling his clothes to return to his standard smart appearance, "and we can consider taking some time to relax when you return." His 'tache ruffling, he looked uncomfortable. "While you are gone, along with assigning more responsibilities to the staff, I feel that I have some things to clear up with certain participants..."

Graham awoke to the sound of the phone. Checking the clock, it was barely eight, the sunlight streaming past the blinds suggesting that it was the morning rather than the night.

Untangling himself from the body of his true love, he sat and rubbed at his eyes before reaching over to the bedside phone.

"'ello?" It came out as a mumble, his body and mind not yet moved on from the drowsiness.

"Graham!" Out came a familiar Texan accent, at a volume about ten times more than Graham had been expecting and was comfortable with, "It's Damian here," he informed needlessly, "I just wanted to apologise for the pressure we've been putting you and Georgia under, and would like to assure you that there will be no attempts to prevent relationships from this moment forward. I," he coughed, "may have been a bit hasty, so again, I apologise."

Not quite sure what he was hearing, partly due to still being mostly asleep and partly from utter bemusement, Graham ummed and awwed over how to respond. He went with;

"Okay, thank you."

"No problem young man! Now, you tell Georgia there's no need for her to work today, so you crazy kids can have some time together! You enjoy yourself now you hear!?"

With that, the conversation ended, leaving Graham both amused and bemused, uncertain about whether that had really just happened.