Her Alpha Lover: A Draken and Charli Boxed Set

by Richensexi, Amanda

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Just yearning frustration as both dildos ceased. It was only when both her intimate holes felt yawningly empty that she realized they had somehow managed to slide out of her without stimulating her at all.

  That time, Charli screamed.

  Then Draken was there, holding her hand. "You're all right, baby," he said.

  "No! I'm not!" she yelled.

  His hand was resting on one of her buttock cheeks. Stroking it. He bent down to whisper in her ear. "You're magnificent, you do know that? The way you use this bot, you could make us all very rich."

  "You already are rich," she choked.

  "It's going to start spanking you soon. It should hurt like the devil but maybe give you some relief from the frustration. Then one more ride up the rollercoaster, one more time leaving you hanging, and then you're done. Can you handle it? Or you want us to take you off, darling?"

  Charli blinked at him. "S―spanking?"

  "Mm, with a very nice, firm paddle shaped like a hand..." His tone said he knew he was tempting her.

  "Oh...ah..." The crazy thing was, it was tempting. She dreaded it. The humiliation. All those scientists―crap, they were staring at her even now―watching as she was disciplined by a freaking robot. And yet, and yet...

  "Okay," she managed miserably.

  "Good, good girl, you bad girl," Draken said, and nipped at her ear.

  Charli's spine arched at that utterly human, utterly Draken, touch.

  "You're fucking making my cock hurt," he growled in her ear, then straightened. Even before he started backing away, the machine was moving again.

  Charli felt her bottom being gently stroked by something velvety soft. Her ass cheeks were still being held apart. Then, once more, there came a probing at her anus. That surprised her; she'd thought that part was done. The plug entered her again, and she wasn't sure, but this time she thought it went deeper. Then the other attachment entered her pussy. All while the velvety stroking continued.

  The rods began to do their thrusting thing again, and the spiraling toward madness resumed.

  The velvety caresses stopped.

  And then more whirring and two distinct clicks.

  Charli's muscles wanted to tense. She knew what was coming. But she just couldn't. The stimulation was too much. She was now very close to the animal state she had been in before.

  Whap.

  The sound rang out before she felt it―a sharp, intense sting. Discipline? This was pure punishment. Draken hadn't hit her so hard at their last encounter.

  Whap. Whap. Whap.

  Perfectly spaced apart, the blows to her butt were also spatially regular. They gradually effected coverage over every inch of her soft bottom.

  Whap whap whap whap whap...

  Charli bit her lip so hard it bled, trying not to cry out. Oh, it hurt. Like fire. Fire on her ass, fire in her pussy, fire in her ass.

  Draken was wrong. It didn't calm her down. It incited her higher. She loved this. This terrible agony. This shameful―impersonal―chastisement. Her pussy squelched noisily and her thighs were cool with the wetness dripping down them. The fact that everyone could tell how her body couldn't help responding to the beating made it all much worse.

  Much better.

  "Three point two eight minutes," somebody announced in a bemused tone, just as the last blow stopped.

  Charli panted, waiting...but nothing more. The dildos continued to thrust, but no more burn on her ass. Thank the lord.

  "What happened?" the person was continuing. "It was supposed to go only seventy seconds. I'm right, aren't I?"

  "I changed it to dynamic instead of static last week," somebody responded.

  "Alan changed it?" a bunch of voices chorused.

  "Draken wanted it more responsive. Said the data showed that women spanked too long felt abused, but spanked not long enough felt unappreciated.

  "Driven by Data Draken," somebody laughed.

  "Not only data," Draken drawled in his deep, amused voice.

  Charli tried to follow their conversation like a human being with a brain, but as soon as the blows had stopped coming, the Robasm had initiated a massage of her clit, and her world was down to her pussy again.

  Hell oh hell oh hell...

  "She's really pretty," a male voice said. "I think she'd make a great product demonstrator."

  Ted. It was Ted, sounding more mellow than before.

  The session's almost over. They're about to take a break. They're not being provoked to within an inch of their climax.

  "I totally agree," another guy said. "You can tell she's not faking any of it, unlike blondie."

  "Oh, blondie," someone said dismissively.

  "Later," Draken said firmly. "Discussions of candidates only during breaks, guys."

  "Aaah," Charli moaned. "Oh God oh fuck oh God." The words poured from her throat. And then other words―words she hated to say, but at this point, she was way past censorship. "Please―please do it. Let me come. Please. I want to come so bad."

  Silence fell upon the room. Charli saw shadows move against the wall and realized with a dim part of her mind that people were gesturing at the camera images. But nobody talked. The only sounds in the room were Charli's own loud, near-hyperventilating breaths, the sound of the dildos pistoning inside her―in out in out―and her little moans and pleas.

  Then her body was empty again, her clit abandoned. It was over. The torture session was over. The blood pounded through her veins for a while and everything throbbed. Around her, there was bustling, murmuring. The doors swung open. People left. Somebody touched her leg. Melissa? The touch was withdrawn. Then another touch―Draken's hand. She was being raised up to sit normally. Her skirt lowered. Her shirt raised and her bra restored so it harnessed her breasts again. And Draken was helping her off the machine.

  She whimpered.

  "Shh. Come with me, Ms. Fontina."

  Ted and another scientist were working with the machine, she saw vaguely―stripping the plastic sleeves off the seat and attachments, unscrewing the dildos, wiping other parts down with cloths that reeked of isopropyl alcohol. Then Draken's hand tugged at hers, and she followed him out of the room, her legs functional but wobbly.

  "Shit," Draken ground out, in a tone very different from what it had been in the lab. Charli blinked. They were in the hallway. She could see the white backs of some researchers moving away in the distance. Draken was trying a door. He reached into his pocket and brought out a card, which he swiped through a box on the wall.

  Then he was pushing through the door and drawing Charli in with him. And she was being shoved up strongly against the wall, against Draken Almatto's hard body.

  Oh my God.

  Hard wasn't word enough. Human. Hot. Delicious. Big.

  He was all of those.

  And Draken.

  "Please," she said. "Don't make me wait till Monday. Please, Mr. Almatto."

  "Christ, baby," Draken said roughly. "Open your legs for me."

  The command was surreal. For the last hour, her body hadn't been her own to move. Charli spread her legs. The motion lowered her even more, exaggerating the height differential between her and Draken.

  Was he going to fuck her now? Take his own satisfaction, relieve that engorged monstrosity of a cock of his that had distorted his slacks the whole time he'd watched her use the Robasm?

  Selfishly use her and leave her wanting?

  She didn't care, she realized. She'd do whatever he wanted.

  "You horrible ass," she said. "I wanted...I needed...it was too much."

  "You should have stopped it, baby," he said.

  And he sank to his knees.

  Charli gaped in stunned disbelief as Draken raised her skirt, instructing her tersely to hold it bunched in her hands. Gripped her thighs bruisingly hard. And then his hot, wet, human mouth was plastered to her pussy, sucking at her clit. Both thumbs were shoved inside her vagina.

  And
she couldn't have stopped her reaction under threat of nuclear attack. She yelled when, mere moments later, the orgasm hit her.

  Hit being accurate. Her whole body jerked. Her hips slammed forward. Pleasure―no, it wasn't pleasure. It was ecstasy. Not the sensations, exactly. Her nerves were too tightly stretched for simple enjoyment.

  But the relief.

  Such a relief.

  It was like a noose tightening around her had sprung free and now she was sailing free. Charli began to cry. She grabbed her skirt in one hand so she could yank off her glasses to rub away the tears.

  All while her body clenched in triumph―yes, triumph, like her orgasm was some kind of trophy to be celebrated. "Ah," she sobbed. "So good."

  There was a muffled sound from down below, where Draken's face was grinding between her legs. She could feel his chin, nose, eyes, everything, rubbing on her, slipping all over her.

  So.

  Wonderful.

  And that tongue and those lips, still drawing hotly, powerfully on her clit...and to her delight, Charli exploded again.

  Four more orgasms followed in rapid succession―each more exquisite and satisfying than the last. At last she was shuddering and whimpering quietly. Finally replete.

  Whew.

  Draken pulled away and wiped his face on his sleeve. As he looked at her, his devastating features were grinning.

  Charli tried to regard him contemptuously but was pretty sure she did a pathetic job of it. "Bastard," she mumbled.

  "Mm, yes, darling." He grabbed her hand that swatted him. "What?" he said innocently.

  "The only―the only thing saving you from my never talking to you again is―is the fact that you just did that to me. You told me I wouldn't get to come until Monday!"

  "Disappointed?" he laughed.

  "What? No. No, I―I―" How to tell him she knew very well she'd have gone slowly insane if she hadn't had release after that session with the Robasm? Running a program he'd deliberately designed to torment her, specifically?

  "If I'd told you I was going to let you come with a bang, Ms. Cuteness, then you wouldn't have had such an awesome time. Now would you?"

  "Manipulative prick," was all she said.

  If he minded being called names, his husky voice didn't reveal it. "You were sensational, Charli. Hella beautiful. Seeing you humping that anthrobotic devil...you do know I'm going to be watching your vids to jack off over and over before Monday, don't you?"

  "Did I sign a release for that?" she quipped, hoping she wasn't flushing again. She was not susceptible to this man's flattery. Not. Or the way he had just called her "Charli," like he thought of her as an actual person, not a fuck toy.

  "I don't need your signature to know I can do any fucking thing I want with you at this point."

  "That's...unfortunately true." There was no point lying here.

  "Unfortunate? Maybe so. I didn't like it, you know. All those cocksuckers staring up your cunt...my cunt. You do know each and every one of them wanted to do what I just did? Lick all that juice off you until you bellowed?"

  "N―no." His cunt? Had he really claimed her cunt as his own? Charli definitely blushed then.

  "Well, they did. Want to lick that adorable clit of yours. And they wanted your tits. Fucking Jannis was clenching his hands each time the nipsuck function kicked in. Lee wrote the double penetration program. The old freak was drooling down his shirt when you about exploded on that stick up your ass." Draken's eyes narrowed, and his look was almost cold. "You're driving me batshit with your fetish, Ms. Fontina. And not only that, I want to drill you, fuck that soaking hole of yours raw right fucking now."

  Chapter 9

  Charli needed a few moments after that to catch her breath.

  "Y―you can," she heard herself stammering. "Fuck me, I mean."

  She didn't say: Fetish? You're my only real fetish, mister. I might get wet when I'm embarrassed, but you're the one that makes me insane.

  But Draken shook his head. "I have four minutes before I need to head back for the next candidate's session. No time even for a suckoff."

  "Delayed gratification will be good for you," she declared.

  "Bullshit," he bit out, rising. "Now get back out there, woman."

  "Where? Oh, back in the auditorium?" she asked. "But I―I'm disgusting. All wet and slimy. Without any panties, thanks to you. I have to wash―"

  "No. Let everyone smell how capably the Robasm works on you." He guided her out of the room with his hand at her waist. "Not that they don't already know, after watching your face for the last hour. You remember we're announcing our decision at six, Ms. Fontina. If you want the job, you'll be there."

  "Maybe I don't care if I get it, Mr. Almatto." She lifted her chin. "My coworker is here. Are you hearing me? My coworker. She's a gossip. I'll never live this down. I mean, what could be worse PR than this? It'll destroy my career."

  "I know about Nancy Jackson," he said dismissively. "I've already had Matthew come to a confidentiality agreement with her. Your worries are unnecessary, trust me."

  "Even so," she said. "The job isn't exactly...it's not exactly what I thought. I mean, trade shows? Seriously? Isn't there some law about public obscenity or something?"

  "Oh, we have ways," Draken said, waving a hand. His brow rose mockingly. "You don't want it? You don't want to dance on Mr. Robasm with your happy pussy in full view of hundreds, maybe thousands of people?"

  Damn, being with this man was decadent. He was such a degenerate.

  You're even worse. You're the one getting wet at the idea.

  Charli cupped her cheeks with her hands and took a deep, fortifying breath. "I didn't say that either," she said at last. "If I took the job, would you―I mean, would you be working with me? Or..."

  "With you? Yes. With anyone else? I have no idea. But don't assume you're special, Ms. Fontina. You're just a―"

  "Fuck toy," she interrupted crossly.

  "Correct. And it's not a commitment, my being there. I meant hypothetically I'd try to be there at least at first. As time went on, though...I make no promises."

  "Because you're planning to lose interest in me soon," she gritted.

  "Very soon." He smacked her ass. "You handled today with stellar aplomb. But Monday may surprise you."

  She groaned. "That's sore, you bastard."

  Just as if he really did own her, he flipped up her skirt as they walked through a doorway and whistled. "Your reddened ass might just be the eighth wonder of the world, Ms. Fontina. I wish Matthew could see it now."

  "No, you don't," she said with sudden acute understanding. "You're just saying that to t―turn me on."

  He bared his teeth at her. "I knew she was a bright one. Remember, I expect you to stay pre-orgasmic for the rest of the time until we see you Monday."

  "How will you know, now that you've―now that I've been assaulted by a slew of orgasms?"

  He stared at her for several seconds. "Very simple, Ms. Fontina. I expect hourly reports between the hours of seven a.m. and eleven p.m. by text."

  She came to a halt. "Reports. On what, may I ask?" she said disbelievingly.

  "On the state of your clit. Describe it to me. How stiff it is, how wet it is. And those exercises you did last night with the finger teasing? You'll do them every night before bed and send me screen shots of your pussy before and after so I can see your progress."

  "Fuck you," she said weakly.

  "Not," he growled, "for three more days."

  ***

  Charli wanted to huddle by herself at the back of the auditorium for the next couple of hours while the last two candidates were seen.

  Unfortunately, cowering wasn't possible. She was never left alone for a minute. She was quizzed by nearly every individual there at one point or another. Throughout the video feeds of the remaining blonde and the brunette, it was Charli, and not the display screen, that was the center of attention. Clearly Charli had become the star of the Robasm show and nobody could compete.


  It was madness. She was asked if she was a nymphomaniac. She was offered help for sexual addiction. She was propositioned by people of every gender and gender combination imaginable.

  But most of all, she was asked how long she had been dating Draken Almatto. Whether she and Draken were engaged. And Draken stayed away the whole time, the loser.

  It was worse than humiliating. It was sheer aggravation. She rapidly tired of saying, "I'm sorry, but I have no comment."

  Right when she was about ready to just burst out with, "I'm just the man's fuck toy, you bitches, go away already," Matthew strolled over to her and began steering people away.

  The only person who really left her alone was Elizabeth. Elizabeth was too busy avoiding Matthew. She didn't even make a pretense of it. When he approached, she walked away.

  Yet when Draken Almatto finally returned at five minutes before six, trotting directly up to the stage with Gordon Howing, Charli found herself gravitating toward Elizabeth, and Elizabeth nodded at her wryly.

  "Well, we're still here," Charli said, sighing.

  "Yes, and I can't for the life of me figure out why," Elizabeth said glumly. "No amount of money is worth that."

  Charli wondered what "that" was for Elizabeth. Losing control, she guessed. While for Charli, the big difficulty in performing with the Robasm was having so many people witness her losing control.

  She nodded. "It's those men."

  "Hmm. You're right. Those men."

  "I'm truly hurt," said an injured-sounding masculine voice.

  They both turned around. Matthew didn't look hurt. He looked like he could eat up Elizabeth's face. "You've been avoiding me," he accused softly.

  Elizabeth jerked. "I don't want to talk to you."

  "Why? You were exquisite, darling. How did you like coming for the first time? I very much wanted to be there with you the first time, you know."

  Charli watched in fascination as Elizabeth's pale face got a blotchy flush in the centers of her cheeks.

  "Go away," she said. "You reek of perfume."

  Matthew finally looked ruefully at Charli. "Stubborn," he said. "You were splendid, Ms. Fontina. Absolutely phenomenal. Made me want to buy one for each of my roommates."