How You Tempt Me

by Natalie Kristen

  “Too full for dessert? Never. How can anyone be too full for dessert? Just have a small bite then.” He passes me a fork and proceeds to dig into his pie. He looks up, the corner of his mouth smeared with ice cream. I resist the urge to reach out and clean it off with my fingers, or...my tongue.

  “How is it?” he prompts eagerly.

  I take a nibble. “Amazing, seriously, this is amazing!”

  We clean every crumb off our plates and sit licking our forks in contentment. Julian's smile fades but his eyes remain on me and his expression becomes solemn.

  “What?” I squint at him. “Do I have something in my teeth?”

  “Sophia,” he begins quietly. “You have to tell me, you know. I can get caught up in my work, my research and I can forget the time, the world. If Mrs Kenny doesn't remind me to eat, I think I might collapse from hunger or exhaustion. I can be careless when it comes to...” He lets out a breath. “Inattentive, insensitive, inadequate...” He leans back in his chair. “They're right. I don't make a good husband, boyfriend or partner. I think...” He gives me a sad smile as he stands to clear the table. “Mrs Kenny is the only woman who can stand me.”

  “That...” That can't be true.

  “I haven't cared for anyone since...since...it's just been so long...” He exhales a long breath. “I might have forgotten how to care for another person, how to love, how to feel...”

  “Sometimes, that can be easier,” I say softly.

  “What?”

  “It can be easier not to love, not to feel. That way, you won't get hurt.”

  He finishes loading the dishwasher and turns off the kitchen light. We are standing in the doorway, facing each other in the dark.

  “Sophia,” he whispers, leaning forward so that his forehead almost touches mine. “I...”

  He brushes a strand of hair from my face. “You,” he whispers. “I just never thought I'd meet you...”

  My heart is pounding madly in my chest and I am hoping and wishing that he will pull me close and kiss me. His lips are so near, almost but not touching my cheek. He tilts my chin up and looks into my eyes. “Sophia.”

  The way he says my name. His voice is just so full of tenderness and longing. “Sophia,” he swallows painfully, pressing his forehead to mine. “You signed the contract. I almost wish you didn't.”

  “Why?” I move my lips closer to his.

  He closes his eyes and continues, “I can't do anything with you that will interfere with or jeopardize the results of the experiment. We...we have work to do.”

  He starts to pull away from me. “I need to take your weight, height, measurements...it won't take long I promise. I know you're tired,” he adds hastily. “Then I'll show you to your room and you can turn in for the night. It's been a long night.”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” I say, hiding my disappointment.

  But should I be feeling so disappointed? What was I expecting? I might find Julian sexy as hell, but to him, I am just a test subject for his machine. I have to remind myself to think about the contract and nothing else. The contract. That's the sole reason I am here, right?

  I follow him up the stairs in silence. There are two doors on either side of the landing. He points to the doors on the right. “Those are the spare bedrooms. You can take either one.”

  I nod and he turns to the left, stopping between the two closed doors. “Here we are. This is where I work...and...this is where I sleep.” I stare at his bedroom door for a few seconds. His room will just be opposite mine. He turns the knob of the other door and flicks on the light. “Come on in. You can see the sex machine for yourself.”

  My eyes round. My curiosity gets the better of me and with an audible gulp, I step into the starkly lit room.

  Chapter Five

  “You'll have to undress,” Julian says in a dispassionate tone as we enter the room. “You can leave your clothes over there.” He indicates a chair and turns away.

  I stare at the various equipment filling this spacious, brightly illuminated room. It looks like a laboratory of sorts. There are computers, monitoring devices, machines, steel tables, trolleys, trays, instruments, beakers, test tubes, and some hulking machine in a far corner which is covered with a white sheet. I can see a metal arm poking out from under the large sheet but that is all.

  “Stand on the weighing machine after you've undressed,” Julian mutters, his back to me.

  I take a shuddering breath and duck behind a translucent screen. Just do it, I admonish myself. This is what you signed up for. And there is nothing that he hasn't seen before. He is a doctor, for Christ's sake! He has seen hundreds of female patients. He is a professional. This is just work. Nothing to be ashamed or scared of. Come on, Sophia, you're a big girl.

  With trembling fingers, I undo the buttons on my blouse. I slip out of my skirt and stand in my bra and panties, wondering if I can keep these on. “Can I...” I stammer. “Do I have to take off, my, um...?”

  “Yes.” Julian's voice answers softly from across the room. “I need you naked.”

  The sexual innuendo in his words sends a shiver coursing through my body. He didn't mean it, I tell myself. He means it in a medical way, a naked specimen, not a woman.

  Still shivering, I unclasp my bra and let it fall from my shoulders. I ease my panties down my legs and throw it on top of the heap of clothes on the chair. I look around for a towel or something to cover myself with, but there is nothing on the bare side table.

  I look up and see Julian's silhouette on the other side of the screen. I can hear his quick, ragged breathing. “Are you ready, Sophia?” he whispers.

  “Yes.”

  Slowly, he pulls back the screen and his dark eyes rake down my naked body. His lips part and a fierce hunger burns in his eyes for a moment before he shakes his head and turns away. “Would you...would you please stand on the scale?” he says, gripping a pen so hard that his knuckles gleam almost white.

  I hold my head high, faking the poise and confidence I do not feel and walk over to the weighing scale. I step up on it and clear my throat. “Julian?”

  He whips around at the sound of my voice. He walks round the weighing scale and stops behind me. “A hundred and twenty-six pounds.” I hear his pen scratching on his clipboard. “Can I take your height?”

  I stand against the chart plastered down the length of the wall as indicated. He steps close to me, his chin just touching my forehead. “Five feet five.”

  He opens a drawer and pulls out a tape measure. “Come here, Sophia,” he says in what sounds like a growl. I approach him, my insides clenching at the sudden heat flaring in his eyes.

  His arm curls round my waist and he wraps the tape measure around me. I quiver at the sudden, searing contact of his skin on mine. “Your waist is so small,” he whispers, his eyes lowering past my belly button. He stares at the mound between my legs, and I take a sharp breath, imagining it is his tongue and not his eyes that is between my legs. My eyelids flutter shut at the desire overtaking my body, and when his hand brushes against my breast, I let out an involuntary moan.

  He pulls the tape measure securely round my bosom and tugs me towards him. He notes the reading but he doesn't release me. Instead, he slides his hand over my breast and moves his knuckles against my puckered nipple. I arch my back at the delicious friction, and when he grips my nipple between his fingers, I almost cry out with pleasure. He runs his other palm in circles against my breast, teasing the nipple to erection. A whimper escapes and I throw my head back, wanting him to take more. “Oh, Sophia,” he whispers against my throat.

  “Julian, please...” I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face to me.

  “Sophia, you are perfect, so perfect...” His voice is anguished. “You have no idea...” He thumbs my nipples gently one last time and lets his hands fall. My body is aching and throbbing from his touch, and I bite my lip hard to stopper a scream as he steps away. Why? Why won't he take me? Why is he torturing us both? I can see the erection
in his pants, and I feel his hard length as he presses against me. I can feel the searing heat in his touch, the raw lust in his eyes. He wants me, as much as I want him, so why won't he just take me and satisfy us both?

  It is no use asking a question that I already know the answer to. I do know why he won't take it further. It is because of that contract. He doesn't want to do anything to jeopardize the results of his precious experiment.

  “Let's just do the experiment now and get it over and done with!” I blurt out not masking the petulance and frustration in my voice. “That's it, isn't it? You can't have me, because you're saving me for your sex machine. So let's do it. Now. Let me test the machine right now! If it can bring me to orgasm, so much the better. I so need that right now. You might deny your urges, but your body doesn't lie, Julian.” I stare pointedly at the fierce erection raging in his pants.

  Julian licks his lips and I wonder if he wants to taste me. I push the thought out of my mind and stand facing him, arms akimbo. I am just so frustrated right now. It's been so long since I've had a man, since I've even wanted a man. And now standing before me is an attractive, smart, nice, warm man who cooked for me and seemingly cares for me, but just won't touch me because of a sex machine that is consuming his every waking moment. Well, let's just see what this wonderful sex machine can do.

  “It's late...” Julian manages to stutter at last.

  “Why?” I challenge. “It is a sex machine, right? It is never too late for sex. Is there a stipulated time for sex, for a woman to orgasm?”

  “N-no. No, that is not what I meant. I just thought...”

  “Don't think, Julian. Just do it,” I urge.

  He smiles, not mistaking my meaning. “Oh I will,” he says, looking me straight in the eye. This time, there is no mistaking his meaning either and I gasp. “Just not now. Not yet,” he says in a low voice.

  He takes a step towards me and I tilt my chin up at him. “I don't want to wait, Dr. James. Let's see if your machine can make me come—since you won't.”

  Julian utters a curse under his breath and pivots on his heel. “Fine.”

  He stops in front of the covered machine in the corner. I expect him to pull off the white sheet but he doesn't. Instead, he starts wheeling it to the middle of the room. I lose sight of him as the monstrous contraption with the white cloth still draped over it fills my vision. It is even bigger and wider than it had first appeared, sitting quietly in the corner of the room. Nothing is as it seems. Even the good doctor seems to be gripped by a sudden fervor and passion. He has disappeared behind the machine and is muttering and breathing rapidly as the sounds of moving metal parts emerge from under the sheet.

  “This is...the sex machine?” I gawk.

  Julian re-appears, looking flustered and a little nervous. He blows out a long breath before turning to me, “I'd have preferred you rest first, but...you're right. No point in waiting and delaying. Needs must. So—”

  In one fluid motion, he whips the sheet off the machine with one hand and grips my wrists in his other hand. I am too shocked to resist or struggle, and can only gasp as he pulls my arms up above my head. I feel the metal cuffs at the top of this strange, skeletal-looking contraption lock securely around my wrists.

  “W-what is this?” I rasp, feeling a chill invade my body.

  Julian works the knobs and dials at a side panel, and I feel my arms being stretched as the restraints tighten round my wrists. He doesn't meet my eyes and a sudden wave of panic surges in me. “Julian.” I can hear the hysteria creeping into my voice. “Julian! Let me go.”

  Before I can kick out, my legs are held down as Julian snaps cold, metal cuffs round my ankles. “No, no!” I start to twist, but my arms and legs are being firmly held in place. Julian presses a button and from a standing position, I am being rotated and lowered onto a steel table so that I am stretched out on my back. My arms are being pulled high over my head. I feel the pressure on my legs slacken slightly, and I jerk my legs together instinctively. The clamps remain around my ankles but at least I can squeeze my thighs tightly against each other. I feel less exposed, but I know it is only for the moment. If he wishes, Julian can crank that machine up again and force my legs apart.

  Julian snaps on latex gloves and flexes his long fingers. He puts on a surgical mask so that only his eyes are visible. Visible, but not readable. His whole body and demeanor seem to stiffen, and the man fades as the scientist comes to the fore.

  “Sophia, listen to me.” Julian leans over me. His eyes widen when he sees the panic that is written all over my face. “Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, it's okay.” He removes the mask and lets it hang from one ear so that I can see his face clearly. He bends down so that his lips are at my cheek. “I won't hurt you. I promise. I'll be monitoring your heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, every change and response in you. You will not be hurt and you will not be humiliated. There are no cameras in this room. You're helping me with my research, and your privacy and confidentiality will be respected. Trust me, Sophia.” His lips hover over mine but he doesn't kiss me. Instead he touches his nose lightly to mine.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and nod. I feel him move away, and after a few electronic beeps and clicks, something whirrs to life.

  I keep my eyes closed, swallowing the sob that is threatening to explode from my chest. Despite what Julian has just told me, I am beginning to regret my hasty decision in signing the contract. I had challenged Julian to bring me to orgasm, but not like this. I had wanted his warm hands on me, not cold steel cuffs and prods. I'd known that I was supposed to test a sex machine, but somehow I hadn't prepared myself for the reality. It really is a machine, a cold, computerized machine, not a man. How could I allow a machine to have sex with me? I must be mad, or desperate, or both!

  “Breathe, Sophia. Take deep, slow breaths.”

  My eyes fly open when I hear Julian's comforting voice. I turn my head towards his voice, but instead of his face, I am confronted by a black box. The black box continues speaking to me in Julian's voice. “Try to relax, Sophia. I'm just monitoring the oxygen level, and you don't seem to be breathing for the last minute or so. I'll be increasing the oxygen level in the sphere very gradually.”

  “Sphere?” I squeak.

  Immediately, I see what he is referring to. I am completely encased in a transparent sphere, but the glass or whatever material this huge globe is made of is so thin and clear that it is barely noticeable. Julian has one gloved hand pressed to the surface of the glass, but he looks so far away from me. What the hell? I am in a glass ball!

  Julian's lips move and the black speaker spits out his words. “Sophia, don't...just stop struggling and listen...”

  “Why am I in this...thing?” I shriek. “What is this? This...there is no air in here! It's completely sealed!”

  “There is, Sophia. Oxygen is being pumped into this...”

  “You...you are controlling the air I breathe!” I gasp, eyes wide and frightened.

  “It's not like that. I...this...this isn't going well...maybe we should...”

  I can hear him swearing, but my vision is blurring and sounds are rapidly receding from my senses. My sense of sight and hearing are fading but my other senses seem to be starkly heightened. My skin starts to tingle as I feel the air swirl and press against me. There is a strong musky scent, and as I inhale deeply, I seem to taste it on my tongue and at the back of my throat. It tastes, and smells like...sex. I'm not sure if the scent is coming from me, or from somewhere else. But where else could it have come from? There is only me in this glass globe. Julian is on the other side of the glass, far away from me. I can't even touch him, much less smell him. The scent is familiar and arousing, very sensual and primal, awakening something deep and basic in me. I inhale deeply, feeling a sudden desire surge in me. My eyes close and I grit my teeth, trembling as my desire becomes even more intense and insistent.

  I start to shiver, and my skin chaffs against the metal restraints. The steel surface agains
t my back doesn't feel quite so hard and cold anymore. Instead, it feels almost warm and wet. My back glides smoothly on the surface of the metal table, and I realize that the moisture I am feeling is my own perspiration. The moisture pools between my legs as the air heats up and swirls in circles around my body.

  I gasp as the air gently caresses my bare skin, kneading and pressing against my naked body like warm hands and fingers. The pressure is real and relentless, and I have to blink repeatedly to make sure that there really are no physical hands and fingers touching me. Lifting my head, I stare down the length of my writhing body. Goosebumps cover my skin, and my nipples are hard and erect. My breathing is quickening, and so is my heartbeat. All the signs of my arousal are present and obvious. Yet I am alone in the sphere. So what exactly is making me so hot and bothered? Not Julian surely, who is at this very moment standing at the far corner of the machine, behind a huge screen and keyboard.

  A soft wind flutters across my breasts and I throw my head back and sigh. The air continues moving over my face, my neck, my shoulders, my breasts and stomach, like kisses, light and delicate at first, then gradually increasing in pressure and intensity. I start to pant as the air presses down on my bare skin, and the pressure begins to mount between my legs. It almost feels as if the air is probing me, pushing against me and trying to penetrate me. The ache and wetness grow between my legs, and I groan as the hot air blows across my nipples and I almost imagine a mouth closing over my breast.

  My mind is foggy with pleasure, even as I struggle to open my eyes. The pressing sensation changes suddenly, and I let out a cry at the sudden, sharp pain. Instead of the pounding, kneading pressure, everything shifts and lifts as the direction of the air changes. Instead of pressing against me, the air begins to tug at my skin, sucking and stimulating every inch of my body. The suction begins to build, and I can see my skin redden as blood is being pulled to the surface of my skin.