Monica placed the grate back over her air conditioning vent, stepped down off the chair, and adjusted her black skirt and glasses. Pinching her nose to make sure the filters she requested from R&D were snugly in place, she went back to her large mahogany desk and pressed a button on her phone.

“Yes?” the voice came back over the speaker.

“Krista, could you come in here for a moment please?” Monica sat back and waited for her secretary to come in. She looked over the items on her desk: the nameplate that declared that she was the Director of Research and Development, the shoebox, the aerosol can. Monica had risen to her position in life by not being afraid to use other people, even for testing the pharmaceutical products her company produced.

A knock at the door. Krista stood there in her loose cotton blouse and a white polka-dotted mini that showed a lot of leg—leg accented by the seam that ran up the back of her nylons. “You wanted to see me,” Krista asked, nervously.

Monica glanced up at the air conditioner vent, then quickly back to Krista. “Yes, Krista,” Monica said. “Please, close the door and have a seat.”

Krista did as she was asked. “Am I in trouble?” she asked nervously.

“Not at all,” Monica replied. I just wanted to discuss some of our new products with you.

“Oh,” Krista said, with a nervous twitter. “I thought perhaps I had done something wrong.”

“Take a look at this can,” Monica said, gesturing at the aerosol sprayer. “It’s something we’re getting ready to introduce within the next year. It’ll be bigger than Viagra.”

Krista gingerly handled the can, reading over the label. “Rhohypnitrous Estrogenoxide,” she read slowly, then giggled. “What’s this?”

“It’s a sort of spray aphrodisiac,” Monica said smoothly. “It combines a special spray mixture of rhohypnol and an estrogen compound that’s designed to make a woman feel arousal.”

“Ooh,” Krista said coyly. She was swaying, and tittered at the naughty thought of an aphrodisiac. “Does, tee-hee, does it work?”

Monica slipped off her glasses, and looked Krista in the eye. “We’re about to find out,” she said. “I’d like you to test it.”
Krista’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, and she started to get up.

“Sit down,” Monica said, gently.

Krista did so, looking slightly concerned, but then giggled again.

“I… heh… I don’t want to be your newest guinea pig,” she said.

Monica smiled. “You already are, dear,” she said. “I have a can depressed in the air conditioner vent. You’ve been breathing it since you came in.”

“Oh… ha… oh, no!” Krista said. She tried to hold her breath, but burst out in giggles again.

Monica knew the combination was perfect, now. “There’s a third element to the compound,” she said. “We mixed it with nitrous oxide—laughing gas—so that you’ll breathe the mixture in deeper.”

Krista tried to hold her breath again, but again was defeated by the need to let out a laugh, this one stronger than the others. She couldn’t leave against Monica’s will, and she was beginning to feel the effects of the aphrodisiac; an itch began to develop between her legs, and she rubbed her thighs against each other to take the edge off.

“The problem,” Monica said, “is that the gas is too diffused to take a full effect, being dispersed in the room as it is. So, if you’d be a dear, I’d like you to spray yourself in the face with the mixture. It’ll be stronger that way.”

“No,” Krista said weakly, as she reached for the can. “Please, I don’t wa-hahaha-ant to do thi-heehee-is.”

“Just take the can,” Monica said calmly, “and aim it at your face.”

Krista did as she was told.

“And spray.”

A burst of vapor hit Krista full in the face. She held her breath as she did so, though, to avoid the potion.

“Now, now,” Monica said, walking around her desk. “That will never do.” She stood by Krista in the chair. “Spray it again.”
Krista held the can up in front of her with both hands, held her breath, and pushed down on the nozzle. But this time, as she sprayed it, Monica darted her hands under Krista’s raised arms, and tickled her armpits.

Krista released her breath in a gale of screaming laughter, then instinctively took a deep intake of air, pulling the mist deep into her. Helpless, she could hold her breath no longer, and surrendered to the giggles.

“Much better,” Monica said. “I shouldn’t have to do that again. But let’s find out. Spray yourself again, and breath it all in.”

This time Krista did as ordered, inhaling the full mist as though it were a sweet smelling incense. She sank into the chair, helpless with giggles. The can dropped from her hand and hit the floor.

“How do you feel,” Monica asked, clinically.

“I… hahaha… I feel… strange…” Monica got out between her titters.

“Are your inhibitions lowered?”

“My,,, heehee… my what?”

“Unbutton your blouse,” Monica said flatly.

“Hmmm? Teehee… Okay…” Krista began unbuttoning the cotton top, untucking it from her waistband, and baring her lacy bra.

“Very good,” Monica said. “Now, let’s see how imaginative you are.” Monica opened the shoebox on her desk and put it in front of the giggly secretary. “If you find anything in here that… tickles your fancy, feel free to do whatever you want with it.”

Krista looked winsomely through the box, idly rifling its contents. There was a frondy pink feather, a vibrator, and various and sundry sex toys. Krista picked up the feather. “Ooh… tee hee,” Krista said. “Tickly, tickly.”

Monica sat back in her chair, kicked off her heels, and propped her own nylon clad feet up on her desk. Krista was running the feather across her chest and bra. She was sweating slightly, squirming in her chair as she giggled and continued to rub her thighs together. Apparently unhappy with not feeling the feather through her bra, she undid the front clasp and continued her self-tickling.

“Why don’t you take the rest off, too,” Monica ventured.

Without hesitation, Krista complied, dropping her miniskirt to her ankles and falling back into the chair with renewed hysterics. Seeing Monica’s legs propped up, Krista did the same, and began to run the feather up her nylon-encased thighs with one hand while the other found its way inside her pantyhose and began massaging her slit.

Monica relaxed and sighed. It appeared the new product was an unqualified success. She was going to make millions… again.