Pieter pushed the heavy wooden door open and winced at the cold that met him. Thorne had insisted that he move his lab but he was too content with the dark dankness of the dungeon that he could not resist its consolation. He set the basket of supplies down and activated the special black lighting system, illuminating two long trestle tables and a host of tubes, beakers and Bunsen burners arranged in scientific fashion.
Three different colors of liquids boiled in the glass tubes: dark red, dark blue and icy green and all swirled, then mingled by slow drip into a tall, thin test tube. It was to this tube that he hurried, his brow furrowing in concentration as he twisted the stopper closed and stoppered the tube, lifting it carefully from the steel holder. The fluid moved slowly, thickly coating the smooth glass and inching its way into the purple light.
Pieter held his breath.
The liquid crept into the luminescence and began to bubble.
The housekeeper's shoulders slouched in recognition of the defeat and he flung the tube across the room in anger. He had been so close, so close to discovering Beauregard's Solution … if only he could perfect it! He'd read all the old texts and scoured the journals and yet, the equation was still elusive, floating just outside of the reach of his intellect, taunting him with each failure.
His thoughts turned to Thorne and to the woman he loved. If he could create the Solution, he would be able to give the young man what he craved: a normal life. Beauregard's Solution would cure the hunger pangs, would ease the allergy to natural light and would allow progeny to be born virus-free. Thorne would still need to feed but at a greatly reduced rate of twice a year. He could marry and bear children. He could swim in the currents of the salty ocean. And he could witness the birth of a new day.
Pieter sighed and as if in a stupor, shuffled over to the end table, selected a shiny scalpel from the tray and neatly opened the vein on his left wrist, the blood puddling, then dripping into the sanitized beaker.
Back to the beginning …
*****
"We're here, Mr. Chambliss."
If Richard Chambliss heard the chauffeur's voice through the intercom, he paid it no particular attention. The total of his concentration was focused on the blonde's hot mouth as he pushed his stiff rod into her welcoming orifice, grinning evilly as his girth threatened to make her pretty lips bleed.
"You like that, dontcha?" She tried to answer but with her mouth filled, it came out mmphf. He didn't care. She was just a receptacle and he intended to give her a good thick load. Her elastic lips wrapped around the head, her tongue lashing the sensitive head as she swallowed his copious pre-cum. He pulled his cock out and got on his knees, placing a fatherly hand on the nape of her neck. "Come here, little one."
His cock slid into her stretched mouth, the head thrusting against her uvula and throat. She gagged and tried to push him away, but her strength was no match for her. He rammed his thick pole past her pearly whites, loving the feel of her spit-warm tongue and spongy cheeks as he sawed in and out. "Yeah." The word left his mouth in a deep hiss as he continued pumping. Tears dripped down her cheeks, her mascara leaving black tracks that fired his blood. "Yeah, fucking take me, little one."
His climax surprised him with its quickness and ferocity. He grabbed her head with both hands and pushed his prick into her mouth until her lips touched his pubes and exploded. "Fuck, yeah." His cock jumped in her hot throat, pumping gob after gob of gooey sperm into her belly. Finally, he released her, sitting back on his haunches and pulling his half-flaccid penis from her mouth with a
pop
. It was then that he noticed that she was unconscious and gave her a wicked smile, leaning forward to activate the intercom.
"Garson, I'll get out now."
"Yes, sir."
The door opened and Garson performed his usual duty. He leaned down, cleaned Chambliss' cock of any leftover cum and zipped the mayor's pants. "Thank you, Garson. Is everyone here?"
"Yes, sir. Martin and Morgan just went up. They phoned me to say that they're ready for you."
"Fantastic." Chambliss got out and glanced over his shoulder at the still-unconscious girl. "You may have my leftovers."
"Thank you, sir."
Chambliss reached into his jacket pocket, extracted a cigarette and lit it as he climbed the stairs. The apartment complex was one that he had visited before. Years ago, when he was a volunteer in the mayor's office, he had taken a gay lover who had resided here. God, just the thought of his hot Latin body made him stiffen again. He reached the landing and found 17 without a problem. His quiet knock brought Martin Hough, part of his personal bodyguard contingent, to open the door and let him enter.
"Thank you, Martin."
The huge, muscle-bound man nodded in obeisance. "She's in the living room, sir."
"Fine. Lead on."
The tiny foyer entrance opened into the living room. Morgan, Martin's twin, towered over the cowering woman, nodding respectfully to the mayor and meeting his brother's dark eyes with a sexy smirk.
"Hello, Mary Ann."
"Richard, I didn't mean to tell her. She … she … "
"Aw, come here, pet." Chambliss sat on the couch and opened his arms to her. The sobbing woman crawled over and threw herself into his embrace. He pulled her close and gave Martin and Morgan a nod. The two men silently left the living room, leaving the mayor and his pregnant girlfriend alone. "You know, I've been looking for you. Why didn't you come to me?"
Mary sat back, training her innocent eyes on him. "I thought you didn't want to see me any more."
"Are you kidding?" Richard felt his prick harden as his gaze fell upon her milk-filled breasts. "You're a knockout, Mary Ann."
"Yes, but I'm pregnant. With your baby."
"I know that, honey, and you've never been more beautiful."
