Now that I am the chief science officer at Veridian Dynamics, I can tell you my story about my studies involving the social aspects of Newton's Third Law. That's the law that states, "For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction."
So you thought science was boring? Well, sex involves many aspects of science, so if you still think science is boring, you, your significant other, or both, are totally bored. What a waste of time and effort.
At Veridian Dynamics, we work on many products, some fantastically dishonest in their application, some merely fantastic. The project that I began about four years ago was a bit of both. How fantastic? Well, I was able to do a lot of my basic research on a website called Literotica - let me take you to back then...
That was quite an interesting experience, finding out that a lot of the technologies postulated in the mind control stories published on this particular website actually existed, at least in beta form. Fortunately, we have one of the meanest legal and accountancy teams in the corporate universe, so we were able to buy the rights to the technologies for a song, which allowed me to have a clear field to get approval for a proposal for the development of a unisex aphrodisiac.
Well, that was what I was spending much of my official time on. A bit of my official time, and a lot of my off-the-clock time, was spent on another project.
It didn't help my love life, such as it was, that I was considered a "nerdy nerd", with a standard-issue pocket protector. Being thirty, five inches short of six feet tall, not particularly handsome, with short brown hair (neither a crew cut nor a hippie cut) and matching brown plastic framed glasses (OSHA and company regulations required me to wear them), ten pounds overweight, and very career oriented - well, was it any wonder I never got a chance to get to first base?
And I didn't care - until about six months after the project started - when Hiroe walked into my office. She was very petite - perhaps a year or two younger than my thirty years of age, perhaps a foot shorter than me, with quiet, penetrating blue eyes, a pretty bobbed head of black hair, and that certain gentle, childlike Japanese smile melded with a true beauty that I had seen hinted at, but very rarely fulfilled on the Internet, or anywhere else.
She was the new biochemist for my (official) research project, and it was no problem, at least at first. She, like me, was unmarried, very career oriented, and had that special combination of quietude, reserve, and inner strength that I always admired in a person.
Well, the official project was progressing a bit more slowly than I, Hiroe, or the management team desired, but Veridian is very gentle when it comes to pressuring successful corporate scientists - especially ones that they know have a "black file" on them almost as complete as Wanda, the receptionist, does. And since the scientists, the IT people, and Wanda all have equal abilities to build our own black files, we decided to collaborate against management, save ourselves a lot of time, and leave each other alone.
I saw an unexpected side of Hiroe about this time. First, when the management were about to sack the janitorial staff, when they merely asked for no increase in their health insurance premiums with a one percent increase in their hourly wages, Hiroe hacked into some hitherto-unknown-to-all-of-us-network in about an hour, and pulled out such a juicy bit of data, that the VP of human resources wound up spending some of her off-hours with the sexually hungry IT staff, as well as a few "on the clock" ones... ...the janitorial staff got a two percent raise and no increase in their health insurance premiums...
...Hiroe got a whole, uncut cheesecake from Wanda (Wanda is a bitch sometimes, but she makes heavenly cheesecake - if you only got a slice, you were in her good graces, and everyone from the CEO down to the mail room attendant and temps lusted after it)...
...and everybody's black files (as well as other things) grew larger, especially as the IT staff videotaped their time with the human resources VP. Too bad that you won't ever see any of that on the internet, at least until that VP retires - public secrets are useless for black file ops, after all.
And Hiroe, after sharing some of her prized cheesecake with me and our project colleagues, calmly went to her karate class on the ground floor in our building, as if nothing extraordinary had happened. I need to emphasize this - that was the first whole cheesecake Wanda ever handed out (and as far as I know, she only gave out one other - more on that later).
I was across the hall from the open plan classroom (open plan - only a three foot high stucco wall with mahogany trim, with nothing above it) where Hiroe was practicing her karate, working on some PR materials for a tour later that afternoon, where I saw a redneck man, about two feet taller, and well over a hundred pounds heavier than her (Hiroe may have weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet), call her a Chink...then charged her, screaming curses at her...
...only to wind up on the floor, clutching his groin, whimpering like a baby. He would have been clutching his right knee, as the paramedics splinted it very carefully, and gave him a quarter-grain of morphine before beginning the process of lifting him onto the stretcher for the ambulance ride to the hospital, but he obviously was too distracted.
As I watched the scene from across the hall, where Hiroe could not see me, I saw the form of her breasts - really saw them - for the first time. You might ask why I hadn't seen them before, working closely with her all this time.
Well, it was simple - I was trying to keep things with her strictly on a professional level. Of course, that wasn't ever easy - as I said, she was very beautiful to me. And that was one reason I hadn't eaten any lunch - watching what I ate had taken those ten extra pounds off. But, seeing her breasts covered in a royal blue spandex crop top, nipples clearly showing through the material, made me rather uncomfortable, as I swelled in reaction. The fact that her breasts were still heaving up and down after the attempted attack, didn't help me maintain control, either.
Then my eyes lowered themselves to see what else she was wearing - matching spandex compression shorts, knee length, with no panties underneath. Her bare feet, no nail polish, were petite, perfectly formed, and likely a little bit sore, after giving her attacker what he richly deserved.
And then, I decided something - something I hadn't dared to do, but now felt that I had to do. Walking into the classroom, I asked Hiroe if she needed anything. "A bottle of water, please," she replied.
"How about a Sprite?" I replied.
"That would be even better," she tried to smile.
Fortunately, I was in my lab coat, so had several pockets, and several soda machine tokens. Getting two soft frozen Sprites out of the customized machine (soft frozen Sprite was a childhood memory for me, refreshed for me on this day), sitting next to her in the back row of chairs on one side of the classroom, and handing Hiroe one, I asked her if she was all right.
Lowering her head, she replied, "I never had to do that before...", as the stretcher was wheeled out past us.
"Well," I replied, trying to sound a bit cheerful, "from what the security man said, you reacted out of instinct - that says a lot about how disciplined you are."
Looking down at Hiroe's feet, I saw that her right ankle was quite red, and beginning to swell. Looking back up at her, I saw her begin to shudder, and tears well in her eyes. So I gently stroked her cheek, and told her, "Come with me - we need to get that ankle taken care of..."
So I helped Hiroe to her feet, and I helped her to the elevators, then to our laboratory suite on the ninth floor. There was a complete medical suite there (again, OSHA and company rules!), with a examination chair that could be elevated, as well as folded flat, like a massage table - but covered in soft, simulated crushed velvet, instead of cold vinyl.
Gently helping Hiroe onto the chair, I elevated her so I could more easily treat her ankle. Opening the medicine cabinet, I asked her, "Aspirin, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, whatever you would like..."
