He had a gorgeous apartment filled with designer furnishings, a BMW convertible and a closetful of bespoke suits. Of course, he'd worked his ass off t... attain that dream. And along with the dream came stress. Lots of it. Late nights, weekends, tight deadlines all meant that he needed a way to blow of steam. He ate well and went to the gym with what little spare time he had; he'd even tried meditation. But still, some days he felt like his head was going to explode. There was no girlfriend in. It cleans your pallet." Katrina explained. "Makes your taste buds fresh so that you can really taste anything that you eat after it." Does it make shit taste better?" Gretchen asked."No. It just makes it stronger." she replied in a matter of fact voice. "I'll show you what I mean."Katrina dished each of them a bowl of sherbet and had them eat it. Then she had them each eat a piece of onion."Wow!" Gretchin said. "It really does make it taste much stronger." So why go through all this trouble. He told me his name was Quinn and that he was grateful for letting him and the crew have a way of easing the tension of the ship. It was almost too cute as he tried not to look at me. I took him by the hand and told him he didn't have to be afraid and that he could do anything he wanted, at least for the next hour. He took a deep breath, sat up as straight as he could reached over and began to remove the blanket. Then he leaned in and began to nuzzle my breasts. Putting his face right between. She felt relief for a few seconds, and then needles lanced up into her brain from the gag, injecting nanbots directly into it. Her senses exploded in pain again, white light seemed to absorb her and then darkness. She was Car... wh...who was... what was she...... Her mind seemed to be expanding opening out. Pathways were being etched in the newly formed neural clusters that threaded their way through the organic grey matter. With a detached sense of curiosity she registered hair being burned.