The lab results are finally in. My hands are shaking as I review the data. The moonflower's peptides show a 92% efficacy rate against the virus in vitro. This is it. This is the breakthrough. But the Chief’s terms are absolute: the full formula for the flower's complete synthesis is only granted to those who fully embrace our… integration ceremonies. Part of me, the scientist, is screaming that this is obscene. The other part, the one he touched so deeply last night, is already calculating how many more times I'll need to present my ass to him, how many times I'll need to feel his thick cock stretching my pussy raw before he deems me worthy of the final secret. The cure for a plague is locked behind an act as old as time. The irony is both terrifying and profoundly arousing.