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Tem 25

Pothos Energy Inc.

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Amateur

How on earth did I end up here? I felt like I had a lot going for me; I was valedictorian in high school, I was band director in senior year, I was a national merit scholar, hell, I even won that cookie-selling contest back in Girl Scouts, not to mention getting into Yale. But after a while, it all just seemed… aimless. Maybe I just ran out of challenges, but then again, what are achievements really worth when your life is as mine was. I woke up every day, went to class, did homework and went to bed. Sure, I tried partying and even rushed a sorority (neverminded it was the pre-med sorority), but I’m just too introverted to really have fun with that.I still remember the day when Prof. Srivastava took my bio class down to hear the rep from Pothos give her talk. I was a depressed sophomore with no real plans after med school and she was this smart, enthusiastic woman with a real purpose. After the talk, I went down to ask her some more questions, she handed me her business card and told me to stop by the next day and she would give me a tour of the place. I couldn’t wait. The next day, I did my nails black, curled my hair and put in my contacts. I figured some heels and nylons with a nice skirt-suit and tie would be appropriate… boy was I wrong. I showed up around 9 a.m. The building was smaller than I had expected but then I recalled the rep saying that most of their facility was underground. As soon as I walked in, I heard the receptionist speak to me from her desk.“Ashley Chen, I presume?”“Yes,” I replied.“Ms. Eber will be with you shortly. If you would please step into our vestibule and remove your clothes.”“M-my clothes?” I asked in disbelief.“Yes, miss, it’s standard protocol that all visitors are received nude, but don’t worry, Ms. Chen, all the faculty are women.”I debated walking out, but in the end, I decided to at least give it a try. The receptionist showed me the door to the vestibule and indicated some of the free lockers where I could store my clothes. Thankfully, I was the only person there, but getting naked still felt very uncomfortable. After a few minutes, I heard heels clacking outside the door. I stood up and was greeted by the rep who spoke the previous day. She was wearing black high-heels with a light green suit and bright, bubble-gum pink nails, her lips were pink and smiley and her light brown hair was pulled back. Those bright green eyes seemed to pierce through my vulnerable, little body which I instinctively tried to cover up with my hands.“Hello, Ms. Chen, bahis siteleri I am Emily Eber, but you can call me Mistress Emily or just Mistress if you like. I believe we met yesterday at my college visit did we not?”“Y-yes… Mistress Emily,” I said hesitantly, not yet understanding why I had to address her that way.“I see you are already nude, now if you would just put these on both of your second toes,” she continued, handing me a pair of silver toe-rings.“Yes, Mistress… if I may ask, why must I be naked?”“Oh, did Caitlin not explain? It’s for static electricity; most fabrics generate static electricity which could damage our equipment if you aren’t careful so unless you have shock-proof clothing like us, you must be in the nude; the rings on your toes are to ground your body as an extra precaution.”The rings felt cold at first but after a few moments of wearing them, I could feel that the air was heavy with static energy, energy which was now flowing through my body and out through my toes in an exquisite, almost sensual sort of feeling. Mistress Emily took me through the foyer and into a little elevator. “Enjoy your tour Ms. Chen,” said the receptionist as the doors closed and we began our descent. Mistress Emily began her spiel as the elevator took us down:“Pothos is a non-profit organization recently founded by Finnish philanthropist Sanna Aalto. Unlike other green-energy companies, Pothos relies not on solar or wind power, but the electricity generated by the human nervous system.”“Like the matrix?” I asked.Mistress Emily laughed, “Yes, I suppose. But unlike the matrix, we rely on a more reliable source of neurological activity: sensation.”The elevator doors opened and we stepped onto the cold, metallic floor. Several employees were walking through the hall towards the elevator dressed in more or less casual attire: some jeans, yoga pants and exercise shorts with crop-tops, sneakers and hard hats; two or three of them wore glasses and all of them had painted nails.“Good morning girls,” she said.“Good morning, Mistress Emily,” they all replied.I noticed that on either side of the hall there were rooms, each fitted with a computer and a mess of pipes and wires which fed into a little plexiglass coffin with a girl in them. Some of the rooms had workers in them but most were empty except for the girls in the coffins. They were all young, a few had greying hair but none looked to be over fifty, and most were my age.“The girls you see there are what we call our generators, girls who canlı bahis siteleri volunteer to be harvested for energy for the duration of their lives. We have five floors of them, each one corresponding to a different harvesting method. Ideally, we would have a personalized experience for each unique nervous system, but we have managed to sort the girls based on five sensory nerve clusters located in the breasts, navel, genitals, anus and feet. The volunteers are given a neurological implant which monitors their brain activity. Through it, we are able to isolate vital functions such as heartbeat and digestion while shorting all unnecessary ones like movement and language.”“They can’t move?” I asked with a shutter.“That’s right, and without language, they can’t think either, only feel. All this power that would go into moving and thinking is rerouted into the sensory nervous system in the form of sensations and emotions, once there, it can be conducted out of the brain and into our batteries.”“Do they have memories?”“Yes, but not the way you imagine. Without thoughts, your memories are reduced to images with feelings attached, and as such, they aren’t really intelligible. I imagine that after some time, they just sort of fade away.”“Fascinating,” I said, starting to become more than intrigued.“Would you like to see one?” she asked me.I replied, “Yes, I would,” and she took me into one of the rooms with an employee inside.“Good morning Elise, how is number eight doing today?”“She’s healthy as can be, Mistress Emily! I was just about to start her breakfast.”The girl looked a little older, maybe thirty or thirty-five. She was relaxed and completely naked, laying on her back with her hair suspended around her head (she was obviously in some kind of fluid). Her head was back and her lips closed around a large tube which ran down her throat. Her nostrils were also fitted with tubes and near her ears, there were two wires that connected to the Coffin. Her feet involuntarily flexed, exposing her arches and toes to a number of little rotating brushes which whirled against her bare skin. Elise soon finished the feeding session and was asked to explain the procedure to us.“FT-8 volunteered about a year ago, her diagnostics showed us that her feet are disproportionately sensitive and so she was assigned to this floor. She wakes up every day at 10 and receives a vital examination from myself. I then give her breakfast via that oral tube which terminates in her stomach. To reduce waste, we canlı bahis keep all our generators on a mostly liquid diet of essential nutrients plus whatever hormones their work requires.”“It’s not like they’ll be tasting it,” Mistress Emily chimed in.“Exactly. The FT or Foot Tickling floor uses rotating brushes to induce ticklish sensations for us to harvest. We keep them on an hour rotation with five-minute breaks in between, rotating between the arches, sides and toes every twenty minutes so as to not damage the synaptic pathways too quickly. She eats at 10, 4 and 10 and goes to sleep around 4 in the morning.”“All the generators have staggered schedules so that some are always running.”I looked into her limp, unconscious eyes. “It must be so… exciting to be her, nothing but tickles all day, always between excitement and anticipation. What was her name?” I asked.Elise clicked on the computer for a moment before saying, “She was a Ms. Tiffany Olsen, a school teacher, it seems.”We left so that Elise could finish her work and proceeded to the elevator. Upon reaching the next floor, I was informed that this was the AS or Anal Stimulation floor. I was shown into an empty room where we observed a young girl who looked very much like me: short with black hair and obviously of Chinese descent; she was on her belly with her legs spread apart, exposing her whole ass. A long string of beads entered her anus and terminated in her mouth at the other side. It was slowly being pulled back and forth through the girl’s body and accordingly, she had to be fed by an IV. Mistress explained that the gentleness of the shifting beads coupled with her lack of oral tubes meant that she was good for all-day harvesting. I sat there for a moment, wondering what it must feel like to be perpetually deepthroated and ass-fucked at the same time, but I guess it was slow enough that she could never reach any sort of climax even if her pussy and clit were involved. Still, the thought was really arousing.The next floor, I was told, was under Mistress Emily’s supervision, the GC or Gino-Clitoral floor.“Believe it or not, this is where it all began!” she said, “Just three sorority girls with a vibrator and some bright ideas were able to power a lightbulb through orgasm-denial and green energy would never be the same.”She showed me the girls there who were fixed belly down, like the last floor, only this time they were fixed with an internal vibrator and a clitoral suction cup. The vibrators were designed to fit the entire length of the vagina and rotated between g-spot, cervical and clitoral stimulation much like the first floor. She explained that the generators here were kept on a high estrogen and progesterone diet to enhance their sensitivity.

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