Page 43 of His Last Will

Hmm… I haven’t done anything with my darts recently. That could be fun.

With that settled, I sit back and focus ‌on the meeting.

When I take over, we are moving this to a spa at least. Let’s have formal votes while we all sit naked in a steam room.

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

ARI

“Do I even want to know what is happening over there?” Aiden inquires as we walk into Ashton’s office.

In the corner of the room, Z is strapped face down on a table, mewling and humping incessantly as tears streak down his face. Bending over, I can see why. Beneath the table is a fleshlight with his cock peeking in and out as he tries to grind himself into the table.

Ashton turns and faces Z with what can only be categorized as a maniacal smile on his face. “Oh yeah, I’m testing out my paralytic lube.”

“Wait, what?” I ask, curious more than anything. What would be the purpose of the paralytic lube?

“Oh yeah. Z over here has his cock covered in the stuff. I am testing it out for a future idea. Picture this: the lube allows you to feel the smallest sensation, enough to turn you on and make you desire an orgasm. But the paralysis function of the lube prevents you from getting off. So you are in a constant state of distress and horniness.” Ashton says with a little too much glee, if you ask me.

Hmmm. “And what is the ultimate goal?” It can’t just be to give them endless blue balls.

“Denial is its own form of torture, Ari. You won’t believe what a man will give up for an orgasm that has been refused to him.” Ashton licks his lips as he observes Z, who still hasn’t stopped debasing the table. “I also want to compare how sexual denial impacts interrogation techniques compared to physical pain. It could have a massive impact on our future studies and open us up to more tools when we question people.”

Over the last couple of weeks, Aiden and I have been having what he likes to refer to as dates for torture. Spending time together in the morgue practicing with new weapons and honing our skills. Of which, I currently have none. So it’s not going particularly well, but I am embracing the chaos.

I’d like to say that Z tied to a table with paralytic lube is the wildest thing I’ve seen in the trenches of the morgue but truthfully it doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Aiden looks intrigued by the new batch as he walks over to Z’s table to get a closer look. “This formula seems to be working much better. When do you think this will be ready to use on the others?” he asks as he kneels next to the table, examining Z’s cock through the clear fleshlight.

“In the next month or so. I had a few earlier versions, but the penis never quite got working again, even after the lube was washed off.”

A muffled scream of distress comes from behind the gag as a wide-eyed Z on the table starts panicking at Ashton’s comment. Yeah, I would freak out too.

“Don’t you worry, Z. I think I fixed it.” He shrugs his shoulders and looks at me as if to say, well, what can you do?

“Are you planning on keeping him, Ashton?” Aiden asks, probably wondering if he will get a chance to torture Z a little.

“Yes, Z may whine a bit, but he likes being under my care. Don’t you, my pet?”

Despite the tears rolling down Z’s face, he is nodding his head furiously, and an almost moan-like sound comes out of him.

Well, okay then.

A long string of liquid hangs from the fleshlight, with a cup waiting to catch the release, preventing it from hitting the floor. I quirk an eyebrow, and Ashton answers my unspoken question, “I want to be able to test any liquid that comes out of his penis to see if and how the lube affects sexual reproduction.”

Aiden clears his throat, thankfully changing the subject. “We were looking for the arrows for the bow. I wanted to teach Ari how to shoot.”

Ashton nods his head. “They should be in the storage room on the top shelf.” He gestures to the door adjacent to Z.

“Great.” Aiden slaps the fleshlight, causing Z to whimper, and walks over to the room to collect the arrows.

Ashton reaches for his clipboard to make a few notes, then gazes over, giving me a contemplative look. “So,” he clears his throat, “how are things going? You’ve been in the morgue a lot recently.”

Considering he was in charge of the research component for the morgue, he probably wanted to know how many more patients would die while I was practicing my new techniques with Aiden.

Which so far had been pretty hit or miss. But it wasn’t all my fault.