Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“How is that?”
“It’s good,” I say, my voice kind of muffled.
He makes a pleased sound. “I thought you might dislike it. You have the temperament of someone who wants to run about and be free. Though, the ship’s steward did tell me you took to your kennel on the vessel very well.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I mumble toward the floor as he keeps adjusting me. He’s spreading my legs open wider, into a position that is actually very lewd.
I feel a bolt of excitement at the notion of what he might do to me next. It could be anything. The rules I grew accustomed to on Earth clearly don’t apply here, and that mention of all the debt I’ve incurred has made me particularly, almost stereotypically keen to work what I owe off another way.
“Is this going to hurt?” I ask the question with some nervousness.
“The point isn’t to hurt you,” he says. “But given you’ve been naughty here and there, I suppose it’s worth telling you that it could be painful if I wanted it to be.”
“Oh, no,” I giggle. I wish I didn’t have that reaction, but the truth is I am so snugly held and there’s just something about being completely at the mercy of a stern alien that gives me an almost unbearable lightness. He’s not going to hurt me. He needs me for work, for starters, and even if he didn’t, he has been more indulgent than stern, even when I deserved punishment.
“You think this is something amusing?” He growls the question down at me. I wonder if he is trying to sound stern, or if he is just letting his amusement leak through. Whatever one it is, I am getting those little bolts of excitement again.
He taps my ass lightly, affectionately.
“You enjoy this almost too much,” he says. “But that is a good sign. We’re going to be using a lot of different interface approaches with you…”
“Wow,” I say.
“Wow what?”
“I’m strapped down so firm I can’t even move and somehow you managed to make it boring.”
He laughs and smacks my ass, harder this time.
“You are not going to be bored for long,” he says. He flips up my skirt and lowers my underwear, and I am instantly much less bored.
“What…”
“Relax, if you can,” he says. “As I was trying to explain, controllers and such are often used by the hands. But the hands are limited in the number of fingers they have and how fast they can move. There are other parts of your body with finer, faster reaction times. Such as here…”
He lets the tips of his heated fingers run lightly over my sex.
“You want me to interface with a machine through…”
“Mhm,” he says.
“I don’t see how…”
“You don’t need to understand it yet,” he says. “Today is training. You’re going to receive stimulus and that will calibrate your body and the machine. Hold still. I am going to attach some… oh, I suppose you don’t have any choice but to hold still,” he laughs.
I squirm in place with the few fractions of an inch I have, just to prove I still can.
“I’m going to have to shave you clean first,” he says. “I want to give these something to attach to.”
The feeling of having him lather my most intimate areas while I am stuck in the alien equivalent of stocks is incredibly vulnerable. Also, erotic. Everything Arkon does to me feels good. I don’t know how he achieves a near constant level of peak seduction.
I make little muffled noises that reveal my arousal. It wouldn’t matter if I didn’t. He’d know by the way my body responded. The way my body always responds.
“You like this,” he says, sounding very satisfied. “I picked well. Everything about you is perfectly calibrated to this task. You were made for me.”
He starts to draw a razor over the sensitive skin of my pussy, shaving away the curls of hair that have protected me for a long time.
“Your intimate areas are so beautiful,” he says. “You have a very delicate sexual interface.”
It would have been hot if he’d called my pussy anything other than an interface. I feel a spike of annoyance, but then he strokes over the freshly shaven skin and that spark turns back to heat.
“Beautiful,” he repeats himself. “The way you flower under my touch. The way your lips swell in response to stimulation. You are complex and you are sensitive and you are ready to be attached.”
His fingers leave my sex, and then I feel him put something right above my clit, something that sucks onto the skin and stays there even when his hand moves away. Another one slips onto my clit directly, which would make me writhe if I could possibly move that much.
He puts another on my left labia and one on the right, and then another pair on my inner thighs, and… I lose track of all the places he puts his little suckers.