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Specimen

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“Fine.” I have to fight against an urge to talk about my dream. Now that I’m in her presence, my mistrust wavers. I focus on her every movement as she goes about checking my vitals. Every time her fingers touch my skin, the sensation travels straight to my dick.

I haven’t tried anything with her—not since I shoved her against the wall in the virtual simulation room. Every day, the desire is there. No, not desire—it’s much more than that. It’s a deep-seated need, but I’ve managed to keep my restraint.

&nbsp

; Barely.

“It’s time for another round,” Riley says. She reaches into one of the table drawers and brings out a syringe. There’s a tray full of vials on top of the table. I lie back on the bed, and she slips the needle into my arm. The liquid feels cold. I can feel it spreading through my veins.

Six injections. By the time she’s done, my skin is tingling, my dick is hard, and I can’t stop clenching my hands.

“Feels different,” I say.

“I’m increasing your dosage,” Riley tells me.

“Why?”

“You’ve done so well, I thought it was about time to up the ante.” She grins down at me, but I don’t see the humor.

I find it strange that I understand her reference to a poker game but can’t recall who I really am besides a name and a girl from a dream. Card games don’t seem like the kind of thing that would have been included in my programming.

“Your body actually gets used to the dose,” she says, clarifying. “We have to increase the dosage to keep seeing more progress.”

“You said I’ve been doing well.”

“You have been.” She places the syringes along with the vials in a bag and deposits them on the table by the door. “I do need you to perform exceptionally well during the tests today.”

“Why?”

“You’re going to have a visitor.”

“Who?”

“Captain Mills,” Riley says. “She’s heard a lot about how well you’re progressing, and she wants to see you for herself.”

“Mills? As in the Mills Conglomerate?”

“Exactly,” she says. “Captain Heather Mills is the niece of Graham Mills, the head of the corporation.”

“What does she do here?”

“She’s the head of Project Mindstorm, overseeing my work and that of the other doctors here. She’s also in charge of all the military developments of the technical teams.”

“Are they the ones who designed my implants?”

“They are.”

Suddenly, my body goes rigid. I can’t move at all, but I can feel a surge through my entire system. I can see it, taste it, smell it. My heart forces blood through my veins, warming my insides. As the blood flows, the muscles in my legs, arms, and chest flex.

“Sten? Are you all right?”

I try to focus on her face, but my vision is blurred.

“Hold on, Sten. You just need to ride it out.”

“What…” I can’t utter another word. My throat seizes up, and for a second, I am unable to take a breath.

Riley’s palm touches my face as she presses a sensor to my temple. My arm jerks, and I grasp her hand. I press it to my chest.



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