Sex Stories – Extreme Porn Stories – XXX Stories
My world is devastated when I’m told that my research is being defunded. I shake my head so hard that my thick-framed glasses nearly fall and I have to readjust it. This is the last thing I expected to happen.
“I’m sorry, Jennifer, I truly am,” the Director says. “I did my best to argue on your behalf, but the Board refuses to budge.”
For context, my project is a marvel of modern science. Mainly it’s meant for psychological purposes; helping people overcome fears and other mental obstacles. It’s simple to use. All someone has to do is wear a harness that latches to their head and their emotions and/or body can be controlled.
A big problem is that my research has cost multi-million dollars and there still needs to be extensive testing before it’s ready for global medical use. In total, the financial investment will be massive.
Worse, this corporation — as powerful as they are — has taken financial hits from their other endeavors. It makes sense that they’re cutting costs wherever possible.
I plead with the Research Director to go back to the Board or the CEO and explain that I’m so close to a finished project. All I need are a few more months and this device could generate enormous amounts of money around the world.
As great as the money sounds, my motives have always been for the sake of humanity. That sounds cliche, but it’s true. I’ve always been altruistic and this is my life’s calling. It’s incredibly frustrating to come this far, only to be told that my work is being shut down.
“I’m so sorry, Jen, they’ve already re-allocated the budget. You have a week to finish what you’re doing. Then your research will be put in storage for future development. You’ll be transferred to another department afterward.”
The news hits me hard. Without a budget, progress is impossible, because this kind of research needs the full use of the laboratory along with the input of other scientists. It’s a team effort on all fronts.
“Where’s the budget going?” I question.
“Trust me, don’t ask. It’ll only make you angry.”
“Tell me. I deserve to know.”
“Sex research,” the Director says plainly. “It’s going to sex research. There’s been a breakthrough on a female hormonal drug. Think of it as female-viagra. Millions of dollars are being shifted to complete the development of that because there’s a huge market for it.”
If I had a mirror, I’m certain that my reflection would be fury. I can tell my expression is making the Director uncomfortable, but that’s okay. My passion to help others is overwhelming, and while I try to understand that sex research helps countless women, I feel that it pales in comparison to what my device could do.
A fire burns inside me.
I reply, “The device I’m working on can be recalibrated for sexual purposes. I understand the demand for female sex treatment and I know what can be done to fix that.”
My request and tenacity catch the Director off guard, which is always fun. It’s the last thing the Director expects to hear. I can tell my proposal is being considered. It’s smart business, because my project is almost complete. And I have a lot of background in research towards women’s sexual functions — I led a department for that many years ago.
“I’ll run the idea by upper-management,” the Director says. “It’s a tough sell, but plausible.”
“Give me a week. I’ll make the necessary adjustments.”
When the meeting is over, I mentally go to work. I grab a cup of coffee and walk outside. There is a view of a garden and the ocean is nearby. I breathe in fresh air and think about what changes need to be made. Reasonably, it can be finished within the allotted time.