Redemption Ch. 02

The buzz is swelling around us. In the pool, the man who had been getting frisky with his wife has now pushed her against the edge. With one hand gripping her arms behind her, he's reaching forward with his free hand. Whatever he is doing to her is hidden from view by the water, but it must be skilled. Her mouth is open and her eyes are slitted, parted just enough to watch the performance. The pool sloshes around them.

"Hmmmh," Palmer exhales. "Mmmmmh."

"Yes," Cindy whispers back. They're equals now, no longer concerned with exactly how many minutes Palmer lasts, or even the audience around them. Cindy slides against her husband, while he fondles and encourages her. Although I don't know them well enough to be sure, it certainly looks like they're in a sustainable groove. This observation is proven out as Palmer continues to churn rhythmically for several more minutes, but eventually the pleasure catches up with him.

"I can't... I can't... fuuuck, I'm gonna cum soon," Palmer gasps.

"Yeah fuck, do it," Cindy urges. Her breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. "Cum up in me."

Their final moments of passion are a reckless entwinement of bodies on the brink of release. Palmer tightens as Cindy grinds against him, tossing her hair. The lounger creaks at the strain of their coupling, and the early evening shadows drape across their bodies.

Palmer cums, his exhalation a long, low growl. He thrusts in the last few pumps, his glutes flexing as he fills Cindy with the promised load of cum. I can't tell if she's cumming too, or just savoring the pleasure of a good, long fuck.

I doubt either of them cares that he lasted for a full seven minutes.

*

Before the Aruban military shot down the spy drone, and with it, Jan's good mood, the two of us had agreed that I could propose tweaks to Glisten's booking and activities schedule. I have such an idea, so bracing myself for an uncomfortable encounter, I track him down in the front office. He just silently fixes his eyes on me, so I bypass any pleasantries.

"Since I arrived, bookings are up eleven percent, right?"

Jan flicks off his smart screen, stands, and fixes me with an even less inviting stare. "Elaine, is this where you remind me about the poor financial condition that Glisten is in, and explain that because of this I should embrace whatever illegal scheme you have in mind?"

"No. This is where I show you how to raise the occupancy rate another four percent, at least." Then, not waiting, I put my own screen onto the desk. "I reviewed resort correspondence," I remind him, "specifically, requests that were declined. Quite a few of those were for three or four night stays."

"We accept some of those requests."

"Only at the last minute though. If you've got a week coming up with several vacant bungalows you'll allow a shorter visit, but not in advance."

"If I book a short stay then someone comes along later who would have reserved the room for the whole week, we miss out on revenue."

"Right. Well, what if we could book the entire resort for a week with short stays only?"

Jan opens his mouth to object, gazes at me coolly for a moment, then decides to hold his tongue.

"Look," I say, pointing to my screen. Three weeks from now is going to be a slow week. We only have two bookings, and a few couples that have expressed interest but haven't clicked on the 'buy' button yet."

"And only one couple has asked for a short stay that week. You're not the only one who reads the correspondence, Elaine. I'll almost certainly honor that request anyway, so I don't see what you're getting at, what your point is."

I'm prepared for this particular objection. "Only one couple has shown interest that week, but we have an untapped clientele who I think could fill in just this kind of gap."

Again he simply stares at me, waiting for me to make my point.

"Solo men," I explain. "We get plenty of requests from men who want to visit Glisten. I'm sure many of them would be more than happy with a short stay. They might prefer it in fact. Just a quick getaway."

Jan looks almost disappointed with me, as if he had been expecting a far more ambitious plan. "We've had this conversation, remember? Solo males do not fit in well at a couples' resort. Maybe one man, if he's respectful and keeps mostly to himself. But a bunch in the same week? They would alienate the couples. It would be a disaster."

"Normally, yes, I agree." Actually, what I'm thinking right now is I'd love a resort full of solo males, but Jan doesn't need to hear that. "But I have something that would keep them occupied."

"I'm afraid to ask."

I tell him anyway.

*

We get a sprinkling of fantasy fulfillment requests, everything from three-ways, to orgies, to extremely specific scenarios that could only be accommodated with the assistance of illegal sex workers. One of these days I'll have to figure out where prospective clients are getting these ideas.

But Jayna's inquiry is something I think we can fulfill without having to pay anyone. In fact, they'll pay us. It started with a can-you-help email like many others.

Glisten wellness team,

Good afternoon. I read that you offer wellness programs and sometimes fantasy fulfillment. I don't think I need the former, but the latter is something I'm curious about. I apologize in advance if my request is inappropriate. And I know it isn't for everyone, but I really want to try...

Does anything surprise me anymore? I read Jayna's email with a mixture of astonishment and arousal. Part of me immediately dives into the logistics of making her fantasy a reality, while another part pictures myself in her place.

I really need to get laid.

I read her email again before I speak with Jan. Once he gives his approval I get to work pulling the pieces together. I carefully compose an email not for Jayna, but for the collection of men who have asked about solo stays in the past two months.

Dear [firstname],

Thank you for your recent expression of interest in Glisten. I am sorry that we were not able to accommodate your request. We are primarily a couples' resort, and are therefore poorly suited for solo male guests. I hope you understand.

I am pleased to announce, however, that we are launching an exclusive new activity series which should appeal to adventurous and discerning travelers such as yourself. It combines shorter stays of three or four nights, combined with a curated erotic activity. Below I describe an event we have next month, but if that doesn't appeal to you I am confident that an upcoming event will.

Our first activity in the series will give you an opportunity to...

I'm swamped with a gratifying flurry of responses. Jayna's fantasy appeals to many of the men I write to, and even a few that aren't interested ask if they can be kept informed of future events. The tricky part is vetting the participants with Jayna, but she happily reviews guest profiles and identifies those men who appeal to her. In less than a week the event is fully booked.

Meanwhile, I get to work on the mystery of the spy drone. Until I can prove him wrong, Jan will place responsibility for the drone with the boogeyman of the FDA. If I can find evidence that it's something less scary, I may be able to repair our relationship, or at least resume designing my therapies without risking his wrath.

I founded an ill-advised BioMed startup named KapGen. During her investigation of the company and me, a journalist named Ava Tanner hired hackers to help track down our drug formulae. Well, their findings were part of pre-trial discovery so at least I know where to go looking if I want some hacking done.

Ms. Salan,

We received your wire transfer. Thank you for properly recognizing both the value of discreet investigative services, and of prompt payment.

We have analyzed the photo you sent of the drone wreckage and compared it against what we have been able to learn about the FDA's resources. An exposure in the FDA's procurement system revealed that they do employ drone-based remote sensing and photographic services, mostly for their research department. However, the drone you showed us is a sophisticated design used primarily for aerial surveillance, signal interception, and audio/video capture. It is not the type of drone employed by the FDA.

Although it is impossible to be certain due to the damage that the drone sustained, it is most likely an Israeli design. Drones of this type are used by some foreign governments, but mostly by private firms. If you find more evidence please pass it along. For now we believe it unlikely that the drone was operated by the FDA. More likely, whoever was operating the drone was attempting to intercept WiFi or cellphone signals.

K & L Investigations

While the report from my new hacker friends is encouraging, I doubt it will be enough to soothe Jan. Worse, although they pretty much rule out the FDA, I don't know who is responsible. I'll have to wait for them to make another move.

*

My worries don't prevent me from enjoying myself. I'm swimming more. Waking early most days, I bypass the pool to wade into the surf and test myself against the waves. The exercise raises my spirits and burns away some of my frustration from not getting laid. I emerge from the water grinning and relaxed.

But one week after the drone incident, my exercise high lasts only until I open my email.

Dear Ms. Salan,

It has come to our attention that you are in violation of the terms of your probation. Those terms specify clearly that you are forbidden from engaging in the production, sale, distribution, or licensing of medical products (medicines, therapies, etc.), most especially those of a genetic nature. By continuing to do so, you have exposed yourself to the risk of imprisonment and substantial fines.

We are giving you two options for proceeding. The first is to return voluntarily to the United States, and report to the FDA Northeast Field Office, where you will be questioned. We advise that you bring your attorney, but be prepared to be taken into immediate custody.

The second option is to hand over all of your research. We will require all formulas, datasets, and notes. We also require a detailed, technical write up of how you researched, derived, and produced any treatments you have worked on since your parole began. Please upload all materials to:

https://fdalegal.com/uploads

While we cannot guarantee that sharing your research will protect you from further prosecution, such a step would demonstrate good faith and intent to cooperate with the United States government. Any delay, on the other hand, will be taken as a sign that you intend to continue breaking the generous terms of your parole.

Food and Drug Administration Northeast Field Office Chief Counsel

It's like a nightmare, a cheap television version where the heroine is trying to escape the graveyard while a thousand hands rise from the soil to claw at her. Only here I'm the one who knowingly strode into the graveyard at night, taunting the corpses. I misjudged the FDA, their obsession with me and my work, with how far they'd go to keep me in line. Am I really that much of a threat?

Maybe I'm not. Using a private browser I open the fdalegal.com link included in the email. The site looks exactly like the FDA's public website, with the agency seal, a link to their mission statement, information about current health crises, and their regulatory boundaries. At the bottom of the page is a blank field simply marked upload. I'm tempted to laugh.

"It's not the FDA!"

"What?" I've burst in on Jan so suddenly that he doesn't have time to put on his usual expression of simmering resentment.

"The drone. It doesn't belong to the FDA."

"How do you know?"

"Two ways." I go on to describe what I learned from the hackers/investigators that I hired.

"That doesn't sound definitive. What if your source didn't discover all the FDA's resources? Or what if they got the CIA to do it for them? To spy."

"Oh God, Jan! The CIA isn't spying on us! Is that really what you think? Do you think they'd be so bad at it?"

"I don't know! How else do you explain the drone?"

"With this." Pleased with how composed I'm staying, I show Jan the email.

"So this proves it, then."

"No," I say, "no. Look." I point to the link included in the email.

He knits his brow but doesn't see what I'm getting at. "What?"

"The link is for fdalegal dot COM, but the FDA is a government agency. Everything FDA related should be dot GOV." I click over to the site and show him. "It's an excellent forgery, but this isn't an FDA site. Whoever sent this email wants me to upload my work, but not to the United States government."

Jan chews his lip, staring at the fake page. "I don't see how this is any better," he finally says.

"Jan!" My own frustration is starting to rise. "A second ago you thought the CIA was sending drones to spy on us. How is this not better?"

"Because we don't know who is after us and what they'll do. Sure, maybe they won't extradite you, but they obviously want your research pretty badly. Can you be certain that kidnapping or some other kind of violence isn't next?"

I feel a flash of appreciation for Jan. He isn't just worried about Glisten, he's also concerned with what might happen to me. "You're right," I admit. "We don't know who it is." It's my turn to chew my lip for a moment. "Are you still in touch with the Aruban military? The ones who brought the drone over?"

"Sure."

"Maybe let them know. If they drive a truck by every so often it might deter anyone sneaking onto the grounds. And I think I know how to buy some more time to figure this out."

Jan nods, but his gaze is no warmer than before. As far as he's concerned I'm a troublemaker. Whatever value our relationship had is on hold until I can sort this out.

*

After a couple of days, I make an upload to the fake website. First I find the most objectionable pornography I can lay hands on, encrypt it, then upload it to the site with the following message:

Thank you for your tolerance and understanding. Attached is a file containing my research methodology, notes, and supporting datasets. For security purposes I have encrypted the data using the same encryption code that I was given during my trial. I assume this is sufficient.

E. S.

Naturally this is bullshit. I never provided any data to the FDA during the trial, and certainly was never issued an encryption key. But the ruse will force whoever it is either to admit they don't know what key I used, or attack the file using brute-force decryption, which would take months or years. Either way I've bought some time, and if they do successfully decrypt it they will find nothing but scat porn.

I also send the address of the fake site to my new hacker friends. Perhaps they can track it down. Beyond that, I have no idea how I can establish who is so interested in my research. Once again I find myself in a waiting game.

Nor do my duties at Glisten offer the distraction that they once did. I still talk to the guests and idly straighten furniture, but Jan has otherwise shut me out of resort operations. I keep him updated on Jayna's upcoming event, and a few related ideas I have. Bookings continue to increase, but Jan no more invites me into planning discussions than he does into his bed. Asshole.

*

I meet Jayna at the airport in person. I can't think of a single individual who has more potential to raise the profile of Glisten than Jayna does, and she doesn't disappoint. At five foot eight, with cascading auburn hair, and a statuesque figure, she's a borderline wet dream. From what I gathered from our correspondence she has a healthy sexual appetite and has been crossing experiences off of her erotic bucket list for several years.

"You're so sweet to meet me!" she says, dropping her carry-on to envelope me in her arms. For a woman who looks like she could justify a high-maintenance lifestyle, Jayna travels surprisingly light.

"You're our VIP this week!" I explain, as the driver takes her bag. "Can't have some other resort snatching you up before you even get to Glisten."

"I'm sure no one else offers what Glisten does," she assures me. "And I do mean men!"

I pull away, sweeping my eyes over her with only partially exaggerated appreciation. "I'm confident you'd find companionship anywhere on the island, but yes, we have just what The Jayna needs."

She laughs. "The Jayna. I like it."

During the drive to Glisten I explain the few details that Jayna and I haven't already covered. She'll stay in the most prominent bungalow, which we've renamed the Princess Suite for the week. A pink velvet rope will separate her terrace from the others, reinforcing the look-but-don't-touch vibe. And during meals she'll sit at her own table while the men sit at a long table like Vikings.

"Oooh, that will be so hot! All those men wanting me, but not allowed to touch."

"Yes, and we have a few activities planned to keep them revved up."

"Remind me again?"

The island breeze through the car window tosses Jayna's hair, giving me an intoxicating hint of her perfume. "Well, the one I think will drive them mad is mid-morning when you'll rub down with body oil. You're still okay with that one, right? Nude?"

"Ohhhh yes," she says. "I'm all about giving them a show."

"I'll have to remind them not to masturbate."

She laughs at this. "Yeah, they need to arrive fully loaded."

"So to speak."

I take her through check-in, and to her bungalow, where we part. She has a couple of hours to settle in before the men arrive. Jayna already provided us with proof of her clean STD screening. The men will be screened on the island.

There's a reason why I chose a short stay for this. The idea is to build sexual tension prior to the main event, but keeping that many horny men entertained without sex for longer than two days would be a doomed task. Two days I think I can handle. We've partnered with a watersports operator to take the men parasailing and snorkeling. They'll also play beach sports and swim, while leaving them plenty of free time to admire Jayna as she lounges, swims, rubs oil on herself, or whatever else it is she has planned to tease them.

And there's something else, a little surprise I have planned. I take a DNA swab from each of the men on the first day and sequence them using GENiE. With that done, I upload their genetic code to my cloud account, splice in candidate genes, and download them to PharmaPhab. The men get the patches on day two.

Also on day two I get to enjoy first hand one of the teases that Jayna has in mind. As agreed, she slinks out to her terrace shortly after breakfast, strips, and begins to apply a gleaming layer of body oil. Most of the men take note, either approaching to stand as close as the pink rope allows, or watching from the pool. They stare, some chattering with their new friends as Jayna transforms from merely an attractive woman in a bikini into a naked sex goddess. Winking at her admirers and licking her lips, the object of their collective desire slicks herself with oil, drawing her hands first up one smooth leg then the other. Passing within a whisper of her bare slit, she continues up her body, applying more oil as she goes. She brought the start of a tan to Aruba, and with the oil glinting from her curves, she begins to resemble a bronze statue. Finally, once she's liberally coated herself, Jayna reclines and begins to massage her heavy breasts.

"Too bad," she coos, "that you can't touch these."

There's a grumble of frustration, until one man calls back, "We will, though!"