“I will help you, just as I did when you got the ointment in your pussy,” Roark promised. “Now then, Samantha,” he continued, looking at her directly. “Would you like to put this on yourself…or should I apply it for you?”
“I…you…” Sammi’s tongue felt suddenly clumsy with desire. “You…do you think maybe you’d better do it?” she heard herself asking. “For…for accuracy?”
“If you wish.” Roark’s pale eyes were half-lidded as he looked down at her. “It would be my pleasure to massage the ointment into your ripe nipples, Samantha.”
“All…all right, then,” Sammi said breathlessly. Daringly, she thrust out her breasts, giving him better access. “Go…go ahead, then. Do it.”
“With pleasure,” he murmured. He smeared the pink ointment on the tips of her nipples with his fingertips and began to trace the round pink circles of her areolas with maddening slowness.
“Ohhh!” Sammi couldn’t help moaning as he circled her nipples, taking his time to get to her tingling tips. “Why…why are you taking so…so long?” she whispered, trying not to look down to where his large hands were cupping and teasing her.
“Pleasure cannot be rushed, Samantha,” he murmured. Holding her eyes with his, he at last reached her nipples and gave each one a gentle tug that sent sparks of pure desire through her whole body.
Sammi gave a soft little cry as the ointment began to work on her. It was warm and tingling and the feeling of Roark’s long, strong fingers massaging it into her tender peaks was almost enough to make her come all over again.
“Oh,” she moaned. “Oh, Roark…”
“I want you to wear this—just as it is—under your blouse for the rest of today and all of tonight,” Roark told her sternly, as he continued to pinch and tug and massage her nipples in a way that sent sparks of pleasure straight down to her pussy. “Tomorrow we’ll add the nipple caps but for tonight, I want to know the effects of just the ointment on your bare nipples while they’re rubbing against your blouse.”
“All…all right,” Sammi agreed. She thought she would have agreed to anything while the big Kindred was touching her like that—anything at all. “So…you even want me to sleep in it?” she managed to ask.
Roark gave her a stern look.
“You are not to remove it for any reason. The Kroathian leather is waterproof, so you should have no problem bathing in it and I designed it to be comfortable enough to sleep in as well.”
“It is, uh, very comfortable,” Sammi half-moaned as he continued to massage her and tug her tight peaks. She was beginning to wonder if she could come this way—her nipples had always been sensitive but she’d never had a man pay such unrelenting attention to any part of her body before. In fact, she was sure the ointment was probably thoroughly rubbed in by now but Roark showed no signs of stopping the nipple massage.
For her part, Sammi didn’t say anything to stop him, either. Every tug of his long fingers on her tender peaks seemed to send sparks of pleasure straight to her pussy. She squeezed her thighs together tightly, trying to control the sexual need that filled her.
“When you come in to work tomorrow, we’ll measure your arousal and remove the ointment,” Roark told her, his voice a soft growl. “And then I’ll attach the nipple caps.”
“All…all right,” Sammi somehow managed to agree. “That sounds fine.”
“Good.” At last he released her nipples. “You can put your blouse back on now, Samantha. And then we’ll get back to work.”
Fifteen
Roark watched his assistant as she shifted in her chair. She was working on some paperwork he’d assigned her, but it was clear she was having a hard time keeping focused on the task at hand. Probably because of the way the bonding fruit lotion was stimulating her nipples, he thought, his shaft throbbing in his trousers.
He hadn’t anticipated how stimulating actually testing his designs and prototypes out on a willing subject would be. He’d only thought about collecting data and making certain his test subject was fully and thoroughly aroused by his program of gradual, building sexual stimulation before the moment of insemination.
But of course, that was before he had met and hired Samantha, he had to admit to himself. Her full, lush figure, big green eyes, and long strawberry blonde hair added something to the equation.
She adds sex, he thought, looking at her possessively. Sexual desire…as well as sexual submission.
He had to admit, he’d expected to have to do much more to convince her to go along with his arousal program and to try the various prototypes. But she’d put up only token resistance before agreeing to put on the breast harness and it had been her suggestion that he rub the ointment into her nipples instead of doing it herself.
Roark wondered if she would still be so compliant when he had her strapped into the insemination machine—which he still hadn’t showed her. Would she allow him to strap her into the harness and spread her legs willingly for whichever phallus he chose to use on her? Or would she argue and try to get out of the contract she had signed?
He simply didn’t know. But looking at the black straps of the breast harness and the tight pink points of her nipples, clearly visible through her white silk blouse, Roark was eager to find out.
Sixteen
Sammi had forgotten she had promised to have dinner with Meg and Berik that evening. When Meg called to remind her, she was faced with a dilemma—should she cancel with her friend? Or should she go to the dinner wearing the breast harness Roark had put on her?
It didn’t occur to her to take the harness off. He had commanded her to leave it on and to be honest, Sammi wasn’t exactly sure how to take it off anyway. It seemed to fasten in the back like a bra but there were no hooks and eyes and no obvious way to remove it.
Besides, her boss had told her to keep it on. And for some reason, Sammi found herself wanting to obey him.
It’s not that I’m submissive or kinky or anything—I just have to make sure he gets accurate data, that’s all, she told herself uneasily.
In the end, she decided to go to dinner with Meg but to wear a sweater that was thick enough to cover the harness and the fact that her nipples were constantly erect because of the stimulation both from the harness itself and the bonding fruit ointment.
Her choice turned out to be a mistake. Though she wore the softest sweater she owned, the fabric still rubbed tantalizingly against her stimulated peaks, making it rather difficult to concentrate on the dinner conversation. Especially when she remembered the way Roark had tugged and pinched her sensitive points when he was rubbing the ointment on in the first place…
Luckily, the dinner turned out to be with Meg only. Berik had been sent on a mission in a different galaxy and was going to be gone all week. So at least there was only one person to notice that Sammi was acting strangely.
“…so you can imagine how much I miss him!” Meg said and sighed deeply as she picked at the teriyaki salmon on her plate. It was usually one of her favorites, but she’d barely eaten two bites. Clearly missing her husband was messing with her appetite.
“I’m sure you do.” Sammi made a sympathetic face and tried surreptitiously to pluck the sweater she was wearing away from her breasts. She was filling it out much more fully than she usually did because of the float dots in the harness which were keeping her breasts in perfect, perky position without a bit of sagging.
“He’ll be back in a week but we haven’t been bonded that long,” Meg continued mournfully. “So a week feels like a year. I swear, Sammi, I don’t know what I’m going to do!”
“You could catch up on your reading,” Sammi suggested distractedly. “Or, um, I don’t know…take up knitting or crocheting or something like that?”
“Maybe…” Meg sighed forlornly. “You’re lucky you’re single, Sammi. No man to worry about—nobody tying you up in knots, you know?”
“No, nobody tying me up,” Sammi echoed, and a little voice in her head echoed, So strapping you down to the
table while he used that molecular wand thing on you didn’t count?
The memory of being strapped down and vulnerable while Roark probed her pussy with the purple wand sent a sudden rush of heat to the spot between her legs. Sammi pressed her thighs together and shifted in her chair.
“…okay?”
“Huh?” Looking up, she saw that Meg was looking at her with concern.
“I said are you okay? You’re not mad are you, that Berik can’t get the rest of your stuff from Earth right away?”
“Oh no, of course not!” Sammi exclaimed. Meg’s husband had gone, as promised, to pick up her things from her house. But her Aunt Vicky had only managed to pack half of it up in time. She had promised to get the rest done by the end of the week but now that Berik was going to be gone for a while, it was clear Sammi would have to wait until later to get the rest of her boxes.
“I promise he’ll get it the minute he gets back,” Meg said. She blushed. “Well, maybe not the exact minute. I’ll have to spend some time, uh, welcoming him home if you know what I mean.” She grinned at Sammi and winked.
“I think I get it,” Sammi said dryly. “And please don’t worry about it. The suites here come already furnished, so it’s not like I’m sleeping on the floor because I’m waiting for my mattress. Berik brought most of my clothes on the first trip—that’s really all I need to get by for now.”
“He must not have brought your summer clothes, though.” Meg frowned. “Or why else are you wearing a sweater?”
“Oh, uh…I was cold, that’s all,” Sammi said lamely. She shifted in her seat again and once more tried to pull the clingy sweater away from her breasts.
“Well, okay.” Meg shrugged. Lucikly, she was still too preoccupied with missing her husband to examine Sammi’s answer too closely. “I promise Berik will get the rest when he comes home, though.”
“Thanks—I appreciate it,” Sammi said, trying to smile. She was beginning to feel the need for some “alone time” to take care of the growing desire that was plaguing her. She didn’t want to be rude, but she hoped dinner would be over soon so she could go take care of herself.
Though I’m not going to think about Roark while I do it, she told herself strongly. That wouldn’t be right. I have to start separating my work from my fantasy life.
Though considering that her work was beginning to strongly resemble some kind of strange sexual fantasy, that might not be easy…
“So how is work going?” Meg chose that moment to ask.
“Oh, you know…” Sammi shrugged vaguely.
“No, I don’t—until you tell me!” Meg exclaimed. “Come on, Sammi—spill it! I’ve been going on and on about Barik and how much I miss him all night and you’ve barely said two words about your new job!”
“Well, there’s…not much to tell. You know…” Sammi shrugged uneasily. “It’s just a job, that’s all.”
She didn’t know why she was reluctant to tell her best friend the bizarre things that had been going on at her new job. Maybe because what Roark and she were doing together felt private and she didn’t want to share it—not even with Meg.
Or maybe because you’re embarrassed about being so submissive, whispered a little voice in her head. Letting him spank you and probe you and wearing the harness he put on you and letting him massage your nipples…
“Just a job?” Meg gave her a piercing look. “With a boss like Commander Roark? I don’t think so! Come on, Sammi—what’s he got you doing—some kind of top-secret research?”
Sammi thought of the “research” her boss had informed her was part of her job—thought of how he had promised she would be “deeply fucked” by phalluses of all different kinds and how she was even now wearing the breast harness he had designed…and felt her cheeks getting hot.
Unfortunately, Meg saw her reaction.
“Oh my God, you’re blushing!” she exclaimed, looking at Sammi. “What are the two of you doing, anyway? I’ve heard that Shadow Twins have a hard time getting bonded sometimes but maybe the two of you are finding a way around that?”
“It’s not like that,” Sammi said quickly. “I mean, Roark is an extremely attractive man, er, Kindred, but he’s just my boss, that’s all.”
“Just your boss. Riiiight.” Meg nodded skeptically. “Okay, if you say so, Sammi.”
“I do.” Sammi pushed her plate away and stood up. “Would you excuse me, Meg? I’m not feeling so good.”
“What? You want to go before we even have dessert?” Meg demanded. “But I got the most amazing cupcakes from this little shop down by the park area in the center of the ship! It’s run by a cousin of Liv and Sophie. You remember them, right? The two sisters I introduced you to when you first came aboard?”
“Yes, I remember—they seemed really nice.” Sammi smiled and then winced, putting her fingers to her temples. “I’m really sorry to pass on the cupcakes, but I think I feel one of my headaches coming on and you know if I don’t go lay down in a dark place and try to head it off it’s going to be just awful.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Meg frowned sympathetically. “Of course I understand. Go on and go lay down now and try to feel better. I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks for understanding.” Sammi said, smiling gratefully.
She felt guilty for lying to her friend but she was getting desperate to relieve the growing sexual itch caused by the breast harness and the bonding fruit ointment. It hadn’t been so bad when Roark had first put it on her—maybe because she’d had two intense orgasms just before he did. But her sexual desire had had plenty of time to build since then and she was sure she was going to explode if she didn’t get to go back to her own suite and masturbate soon.
She hugged Meg goodbye—carefully so as to avoid more friction between the sweater and her sensitive nipples—and beat a hasty retreat to her own place.
Sammi had barely shut the door before she was ripping off the sweater and groping between her legs. Despite her earlier promise to herself, it was Roark’s image that rose to her mind’s eye as she began desperately rubbing her swollen pussy.
She tried to push him out of her head, but it was useless. Those pale, intense eyes, his long fingers stroking her, his deep voice telling her how he would test all his prototypes on her and most of all his dark, spicy, wild scent were all Sammi could think about as she came…and then came again and again and again.
Seventeen
“How many times did you masturbate last night, Samantha?”
Roark’s question, asked in a matter-of-fact tone, caught Sammi completely by surprise.
“I…I’m sorry? What?” she asked blankly.
Roark looked up from his examination of her nipples—which were tight and pink from the stimulation of the harness—not to mention the fact that she’d been touching them last night while she got herself off, Sammi thought, feeling guilty.
Her boss had insisted on examining her first thing, as soon as she walked into the office and Sammi hadn’t even protested. Instead, she had followed him into the back room of the lab, taken off her top, and laid down on the padded exam table with her feet in the stirrups so he could see how the breast harness was affecting her.
“I said, how many times did you masturbate?” Roark repeated, raising an eyebrow inquiringly. “Your nipples appear like they’ve been manipulated quite a bit—were you stroking them while you fingered yourself?”
In fact, that was exactly what Sammi had been doing—not that she wanted to admit it.
“How dare you ask me that?” she demanded, starting to sit up. “That’s personal!”
“Not anymore, I’m afraid,” Roark said dryly. “Don’t forget, I’m trying to measure your desire. If you felt the need to touch yourself, it’s a good sign the breast harness is doing its job. So if you did masturbate, I need to know it—and how many times.”
Sammi bit her lip. When he put it that way, she felt guilty about not giving him the data he was looking for.
“Well,” she
muttered and cleared her throat. “I, uh…two or three times. That’s all.”
Roark raised an eyebrow again.
“Which was it? Two or three?”
“Four, all right?” Sammi snapped, her cheeks burning. “But I couldn’t help it! It’s this damn bonding fruit ointment again—it’s making my nipples so sensitive I can’t help but get turned on!”
“Of course.” Roark put a hand on her arm soothingly. “Please don’t ever feel embarrassed about admitting your desire to me, Samantha,” he said softly. “It’s a perfectly natural reaction—the reaction I’m specifically trying to elicit—and besides, there is no shame in relieving your sexual needs.”
“Well, there is shame in most human cultures,” Sammi muttered. “It’s certainly not something we talk about in polite company.”
“This is not ‘polite company’,” Roark reminded her. “This is a laboratory setting and the more honest and accurate you are with me, the better our eventual results. Just think of all the childless women out there—women who want to have a lot of children, like you said you do yourself—who can’t and need our help.”
“You make it sound like a truly noble cause,” Sammi remarked, looking at him in surprise.
“It is,” Roark said earnestly. “Which is why I need your help. I can’t test these prototypes out on myself.”
“I guess not,” Sammi said grudgingly. “Well…what’s next?”
“I’ll attach the nipple caps—though first we’d better get that bonding fruit ointment off your nipples,” Roark said. He reached for the purple molecular wand with the glowing purple marble at its tip but Sammi flinched away from it.
“Wait!” she exclaimed, eyeing it mistrustfully. She could well remember how crazy the damn thing had driven her the day before. It had resulted in several embarrassing orgasms right in front of her boss and she wasn’t up for round two.
Roark frowned at her.
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