Sammi stalked across the room and snatched it up. She read the note again.
For sensitive areas, the strong, masculine script advised. Sammi wondered when he had written it—she hadn’t seen him doing it. She also wondered if she ought to use it. It felt almost like capitulation or a form of submission to do so.
Like leaning over the desk and taking your spanking like a good little girl was submission? whispered a dark little voice in her head.
Sammi ignored the voice and unscrewed the lid. She brought the little pot to her nose and sniffed the contents. The pink ointment had a very mild, fresh fragrance. It was almost minty, but so faint she could barely smell it. Remembering what Roark had said about being able to smell both her body wash and the alcohol seeping from her pores, Sammi thought this must be a pretty strong fragrance to him.
Taking the little pot with her, she went back to the 3-D viewer and pulled up her nightgown again. It was a black lace nighty which contrasted with her pale skin, making it look even more creamy and showing up the ghostly handprints in bas-relief.
Experimentally, Sammi touched her fingertips to the ointment and rubbed it into one of the handprints. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but the sensation was cool and tingly at first, and then it became a soothing warmth.
“Oh…” Sammi whispered in surprise. It actually felt good.
She got some more of the pink ointment and rubbed it into the sore places where Roark had spanked her. As she did, the handprints began to fade and her entire ass began to feel warm and soothed.
There was plenty of ointment left in the pot and Sammi dipped her finger into it one more time before realizing she didn’t need it—she was completely healed.
She started to scrape the excess ointment back into the pot…but hesitated.
Still watching herself in the 3-D viewer, she lifted her nightgown—in the front this time—baring her neatly trimmed thatch of reddish-gold curls. Her outer pussy lips were pink and swollen, as though they, too, were crying out for attention—for something to ease her pain.
Not that she was in pain, exactly, Sammi told herself. But still…
Her hand hovered over her pussy uncertainly. Should she?
For sensitive areas. The note flashed in her mind’s eye and before she could stop herself, Sammi had spread her outer pussy lips with trembling fingers and was rubbing the dab of pink ointment into her inner folds.
The effect was immediate. She felt the same tingling coolness that changed to sensuous warmth but somehow the effect was magnified—maybe because this was a much more sensitive area than her ass.
“Ohhhh,” she half-moaned and her knees almost buckled as the tingling warmth enveloped her clit, making her even more sensitive.
Somehow she made it to the bed but now that she had started, she couldn’t seem to stop touching herself. Lying on her back, she spread her thighs wide and continued to stroke her pussy, using swift, light strokes around her tingling clit.
As she pleasured herself, an image began to form in her mind. Sammi saw herself bent over the desk again with Roark looming behind her. He had just finished spanking her and now he was demanding that she spread her thighs wider.
Moaning, Sammi did as he told her and then she felt his big hand between her legs. Long fingers teased open her pussy lips and slipped inside, finding the entrance to her heated depths and sliding in deep to fill her as she moaned and bucked back against him.
Oh God, what am I thinking? I have to stop this, Sammi moaned inwardly. I can’t be fantasizing about my boss—it’s not right!
But the images refused to fade. In fact, if anything, they grew stronger. Roark was bending over her now, speaking in that soft, dangerous voice of his as he fingered her pussy relentlessly.
“Open wider for me, Samantha,” he was saying in her ear, his breath hot against the side of her throat. “Open up like a good girl and let me fuck you with my fingers. Open up your pussy and come for me while I pet your hot little cunt…”
“Oh!” Sammi cried, her hips bucking as an orgasm so strong it made her legs feel weak and trembly rocketed through her. She was glad she was lying on the bed—she would definitely have collapsed if she’d remained standing. Her hips bucked upwards again, as though seeking something—someone else’s touch. The pleasure that rushed through her was sharp and so intense it was almost painful.
“Oh!” she moaned again and Roark’s face—so maddeningly handsome and aloof—rushed to her mind’s eye. He was telling her to hold still, to open herself, to submit to what he wanted to do to her, to take the pleasure he was giving her and beg for more…
Have to stop this! I can’t think of him that way—he’s my boss. My boss! Sammi scolded herself. Yet the visions of those strange pale eyes ringed in black and the deep voice telling her to open herself for the big Kindred persisted, until at last the pleasure ebbed, which seemed to take a very long time.
Afterwards, she lay panting on the bed. Her mouth was dry from moaning and she wanted a drink of water but her legs still felt like rubber—she didn’t dare get up.
What’s wrong with me? Sammi threw an arm over her eyes and tried to push back the tears that threatened. It wasn’t that she was upset, exactly, it was just that the orgasms had been so intense. In fact, she’d never felt anything like it!
Must have been the ointment, she thought, lifting her arm and looking at the little pot still clutched tightly in one hand. That’s the only explanation.
What other reason could she give for the pleasure that had shot through her, almost electrocuting her with its intensity? What other reason could account for her having such a powerful orgasm it actually made her cry?
I know a reason, whispered a traitorous little voice inside her head. I think you actually liked getting spanked, Sammi. I think it got you off like crazy—even thinking about it got you off.
Uneasily, she pushed the thought away. That was ridiculous—crazy. She wasn’t a kinky person—she wasn’t. It was just the ointment—that was all. For “sensitive places” indeed. Sammi snorted. He’d probably given it to her for just this reason—to tempt her into using the ointment on places she shouldn’t.
I ought to confront him, she thought. Let him know I’m on to him. This is sexual harassment, after all. You can’t just tell a woman to pull up her skirt and spank her over your desk right in the middle of the workday!
But that thought brought back the image of herself bent over Roark’s desk, exposed and vulnerable as he loomed over her, speaking in that deep, velvety voice that seemed to make her tingle everywhere…
Suddenly, Sammi became aware that her fingers had begun to move in her pussy again, idly circling her throbbing clit and building the intense pleasure once more. Abruptly, she yanked her hand away.
No, stop…stop it right now! she lectured herself fiercely. He’s your boss—you can’t think of him like this! You’ll just have to put this crazy incident behind you and try to go on like nothing happened. You can’t acknowledge it or let it get to you. You can’t let Roark get to you either—if you do, he wins.
Although what the big Kindred would win and what kind of game they were playing was completely beyond her. Sammi only knew she was incredibly confused…and still pretty horny.
She forced herself to pull down her nighty and get up. She re-capped the pink ointment and hid it in her dresser drawer, to keep herself from using any more of it. Then she went back to bed and climbed beneath the covers.
Rolling over on her side, she closed her eyes and ordered herself not to think of her new boss and not to remember the spanking…or the fantasy that had followed.
She had a new life here, aboard the Mother Ship and she was not going to screw it up, Sammi told herself.
Absolutely not.
Seven
She woke in the middle of the night, feeling tense and horny all over again. Her pussy was throbbing—especially her clit, where she’d rubbed the pink ointment.
Reaching between her legs, she f
ound that she was incredibly wet and her clit was hot and swollen with need. What was wrong with her?
The ointment, she thought again. It was that damn ointment—it’s still affecting me!
She tried to roll over and go back to sleep but the desperate need wouldn’t let her. At last she gave up and spread her thighs, intending to just “rub one out” quickly and then get back to sleep.
But she found her head was full of Roark again, his deep voice telling her to bend over and raise her skirt, the feeling of his hard palm connecting with her bare ass as she submitted to his punishment…
Sammi tried not to think of him—she really did. But when she finally came, it was with Roark’s name on her lips and the memory of those strange, pale eyes staring down into hers as he told her he was going to punish her.
A rush of shame followed the intense pleasure of her orgasm but at least she was able to go back to sleep again. As she drifted off, Sammi told herself it wouldn’t happen again—it was just the lingering effects of the ointment which surely would have dissipated by the time she woke up in the morning…
Only it didn’t.
If anything, the constant horniness she felt was worse when she opened her eyes as her alarm went off.
Sammi groaned as she reached between her legs to find that she was sopping wet again. And her clit was throbbing as though she hadn’t come for days or weeks.
“What’s wrong with me?” she muttered aloud as she threw back the covers and got out of bed. “Why can’t I stop feeling this way?”
She had no answers and the feeling of need only got worse, even when she took a shower and attempted to wash the remains of the ointment off. Her clit was swollen and throbbing—hot to the touch, as though she had some kind of sexual fever.
Stepping out of the shower, she dried off with a towel. She felt the urgent need to masturbate again but stopped herself when she saw what time it was. She was going to be late for work if she didn’t hurry—and who knew what kind of punishment tardiness carried in Commander Roark’s lab?
Going to work feeling so horny was going to be torture, but Sammi was damned if she’d call in sick. She was damn well going to show Roark that she could work through anything—even the effects of the crazy ointment he had given her.
So she got dressed, fixed her hair, and put on some makeup before leaving her new suite and marching down the long metal corridor to the lab. Every step was torture because the motion stimulated her swollen clit but she did her best not to show her intense arousal on her face.
The show must go on and this was one battle she was not going to let Roark win, she swore to herself.
Even if it drove her crazy.
Eight
His new assistant was extremely quiet for most of the morning, Roark thought. Quiet to the point of muteness—but at least she was there.
He had gone too far, spanking her the day before, he thought to himself. It was a surprise that she had showed up at all instead of going straight to Commander Sylvan, the Head of the High Council, and complaining.
Roark wasn’t quite sure what he would do if that happened. Under Kindred law, he had the right to run his lab any way he wanted to, but female abuse carried a severe penalty.
Although, he hadn’t really abused her—three blows to her luscious bottom could hardly constitute a beating. Also, he might make the case that she was under his direction and so subject to the Law of Conduct, which stated that every Warrior was responsible for the behavior of his bride. Or in this case, his direct subordinate…
His musings were broken by a muffled curse from Samantha’s direction. Looking up, Roark saw that she was shifting in her seat, a look of irritation on her face. Clearly, something was bothering her intensely. Roark doubted she would tell him what it was, but there was no harm in asking.
Getting up from his own desk, he came to stand over her…and that was when her scent hit him like a blow to the face.
Gods! He nearly took a step back in surprise. The scent of female arousal—intense arousal—was so strong he felt his cock come to attention at once. Something had gotten to Samantha—something had made her incredibly “horny” as he had heard humans call it—and now she was in deep sexual need.
His body reacted at once, of course. It was simple biology—he was an unmated male and she was an unmated female in need. His shaft throbbed in his trousers, aching for release.
Roark had the urge to take her in his arms and lay her on his desk. Then he would push up her skirt and tear away those fragile lace panties she wore before parting her pussy lips with his tongue. He could just imagine her moaning and thrashing, pulling his hair as she begged him to lick her harder…taste her deeper…
No! With an effort of will, Roark mastered himself and pushed the erotic image out of his mind. Taking a deep breath—which he immediately regretted, since it filled his senses with her hot fragrance—and keeping his face calm and blank, he spoke her name.
“Samantha,” he said. “Would you like to tell me what’s wrong?”
Nine
Sammi glared up at him, not bothering to try and hide her anger. She’d been fighting with the intense horniness caused by that damn ointment all day. In fact, she’d gone to the restroom and gotten herself off three times—and still it wouldn’t stop. She was beginning to feel half crazy and it was all Roark’s fault!
“You know damn well what’s wrong with me,” she snarled. “You know because you’re the one who caused it!”
“What?” Roark’s pale eyes widened in apparent surprise. “I’m sorry, Samantha, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes you do!” She rose on shaky legs and poked a finger at his broad chest. “You gave me that ointment! And ever since I used it I can’t stop…well, I’m a mess!” she finished, feeling her cheeks get hot.
“Ointment?” His eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. “What does the pain ointment I gave you have to do with this…this, er, problem you’re having?”
“Your note said that it was for sensitive areas,” Sammi snapped. “So I used it and ever since I…I’m….like this!” She motioned to herself, as though he could see her internal conflict just by looking at her. Even now her pussy was so wet and hot she felt like she was going to go crazy with desire—no, not just desire. This wasn’t just something she wanted—it was sexual need.
A need that was driving her crazy!
“For sensitive areas?” Understanding dawned in his pale eyes. “Wait a moment—you were only supposed to use the ointment to ease the pain in the area where I punished you. Did you put it on other, er, body parts also?”
This time Sammi felt like her whole face was getting hot and red.
“The note said for sensitive areas,” she repeated stubbornly. “So I used it on sensitive areas.”
Roark frowned at her sternly.
“Which areas exactly, Samantha? Did you rub the ointment on the outer lips of your sex?”
“Not exactly…” Sammi shifted from foot to foot. God, how embarrassing! She was beginning to wish she hadn’t said anything at all. Better to live with the intense arousal than to admit it to her boss. What was he going to think of her if this all came out?
“Where, then?” Roark’s voice grew even more stern as he frowned down at her. “Tell me where you put it, Samantha. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
“I…I put it inside, all right?” she snapped, losing her temper again as anger overcame embarrassment.
His eyebrows rose.
“Inside your sex?”
Angrily, she nodded.
“And ever since I’m going crazy!”
“I imagine so,” Roar said dryly. “Considering that it has extract of bonding fruit in it.”
“What kind of fruit?” Sammi demanded. “What is it and what did it do to me? And where did you get it, anyway?”
Roark sighed.
“I made it myself, as part of my infertility research. And bonding fruit is used by t
he brides of Twin Kindred to allow them to bond with their chosen mates. It is also one of the strongest aphrodisiacs in the known universe.”
“What?” Sammi demanded. “But…then why did you give it to me?”
“I gave it to you to use on the place where I punished you,” Roark said sternly. “Not to rub into your pussy, Samantha.”
“I…well, I…” But she had no words to say—no excuse to give. After all, she couldn’t admit that the spanking he’d given her had made her hot and bothered and she’d needed to masturbate, could she? Not that she liked to be spanked, Sammi told herself quickly. But still…
“When used as a topical ointment, the bonding fruit extract causes a healing warmth,” Roark lectured. “However, if you apply it to sexual areas, you will get a sexual response.”
“All right, I can tell that much,” Sammi snapped. “Now how do I stop it? It’s driving me insane!”
Roark frowned.
“There are only two ways. You either have to have your mate—or an unmated male—lick the area where you applied the ointment until his saliva dissolves the compounds in the ointment…”
“What?” Sammi exclaimed. “But I told you, I don’t have a boyfriend right now! And I can’t just ask some random guy to…to lick me like that!”
Her face was so hot it felt like her hair might catch on fire as she spoke. She’d never been much for that particular sexual act—mainly because she got the distinct feeling that most guys really didn’t like it very much, even if they pretended otherwise.
“Well, there is one other way to remove the compound. Or rather, to break the molecular bonds and stop the reaction,” Roark said. “But I’m afraid it’s rather delicate and dangerous and you’ll need my help.”
“What? Why would I need your help?” Sammi demanded. God, this was just getting worse and worse!
“Because,” her boss said dryly. “You can’t use the molecular wand on yourself—if you get the wrong frequency you could damage a very delicate area.”
Submitting to the Shadow: Kindred Tales 27 Page 4