Her Alpha Lover: A Draken and Charli Boxed Set (20 page)

"Sorry for that," Ted said. "We're using sani-sleeves on any part that contacts the user's skin today, since we don't have much time between sessions. Normally these parts are spot cleaned and easily removed and sterilized as needed by a patented process. Is it tolerable? I know the plastic can feel kind of weird."

"S
―
sure."

Melissa came forward. "Ms. Fontina, I'm just going to lift your skirt and fit you out for the Robasm. In a later version," she said chattily, "we hope to make this process automatic. A lot of us wanted to delay launch until we could get the Robasm to fit itself to the user, but believe it or not, that's more space science than we can easily achieve in our time frame."

As she talked, Melissa was shoving up Charli's skirt until it was bunched up along her upper thighs. Melissa's hands put gentle pressure on Charli's inner thighs and Charli found her legs parting without her volition. Panic engulfed her. Her female juices, which she had carefully cleaned up in the bathroom, were now flowing again and sticking to the seat. It had to be incredibly obvious to everyone in the room. And she had the terrible feeling her pussy was exposed in this position.

"Here, hold this, Ms. Fontina." A control was placed in her palm. "That's for you to pause the machine. Everything will stop for ten seconds if you press the red button."

Charli nearly jumped out of her seat in alarm when a metal arm folded down and started probing between her legs and made a loud squelch as it contacted her wetness.

Ted chuckled. "It's all right, Ms. Fontina. No need to be embarrassed. We've seen it all, we promise. This machine turns everyone on, and we fully expect you to be aroused. In fact, we're hoping for it, right, Draken?"

"Mm." Draken's voice was deep and husky.

Ted and Melissa both paused in what they were doing, and Charli sensed everyone in the room looking at Draken.

"Uh―normally Draken would take this opportunity to reassure you," Gordon inserted, his easy tone sounding a little forced.

"Ms. Fontina and I have a previous acquaintance," Draken murmured. "I think it best if I stay silent for this session."

"Ah. Right. I knew that." Ted cleared his throat. "Anyway, Ms. Fontina. As you've probably figured out, the cameras are recording everything we're doing here. This is mostly for internal use. As the release you signed indicates, your face and identity will not be disclosed to anybody outside of Almatto Tech Joy. The exception of course is the live feed they're now getting of your face. All this applies to the audition only. If you're actually selected to demonstrate the Robasm for ATJ on an official basis, you'll be demoing live at trade shows, on video infomercials, in sex stores, and for distributors, among others."

Trade shows! Infomercials! Live!

Charli's alarmed gaze sought the room at large. "Where are the cameras...?"

"We don't like to say," Ted said in a friendly tone. "It makes people self-conscious. There's no need to worry. I can already tell you're very photogenic." He nodded at the screen on the wall opposite to Draken. Charli hadn't noticed before, but her image was emblazoned on a variety of screens―not just of her face, but of several body parts. Including, she saw with horrified disbelief, one of her pussy. She didn't know where the camera was, but it had a view straight up between her legs. The wispy curling hair, glistening with droplets of wetness, the tiny clitoris extending from its hood, and the pink lips slightly parted and swollen were all scaled up and displayed in mortifying detail...along with the huge spongy-looking rod that was hovering just outside the entrance to her vaginal passage.

She couldn't help it. Her miserable gaze flew to Draken. He was contemplating, not the videos as she feared, but Charli's face. He grinned mischievously, and Charli shuddered.

Oh, God. I'm not going to make it. I'm going to spontaneously combust before this is over.

Because she was forced to admit this whole thing was intensely humiliating. And at the same time, it was also incredibly arousing.

"Do you remember the voice command to end the program?" Melissa said.

"End," Charli parroted.

"That's right. 'No' won't do it, nor will 'stop" or 'red.'"

"Shouldn't we test it?" Charli said jerkily. "So we're sure it recognizes my voice?"

"No need," Melissa said. "It's state-of-the-art and recognizes eighteen languages and hundreds of dialects. You are standard west coast USA. It won't be a problem. Now, Ms. Fontina, we're going to attach the sensors to you. Please unbutton your jacket and blouse."

Charli began fumbling. Something light was stuck to her cheek, and Charli crossed her eyes to look at the metallic hook that curved in front of her mouth. Her foot jerked as Melissa―no, it was Ted―attached something to her bare foot.

Her suit jacket and blouse parted, revealing her plump breasts in their bra. Ted reached up and gently pried the bra over her breasts until the band clung to her upper chest above her breasts, which now hung down freely. Then with his cool, dry hand, he cupped the left breast and raised it while Melissa placed a patch on her ribcage―both being very matter-of-fact. Charli, meanwhile, stared into Draken's eyes like they were a lifeline.

Embarrassingly conscious of how hard her nipples were. Because having her breasts exposed and handled so perfunctorily by two strangers in such an intimate context was nearly unbearable.

Leaving her breasts hanging down nakedly under her bra, Ted drew her blouse placket closed, clearing his throat. "Er, you can go ahead and button up again, Ms. Fontina." Another throat clearing. "Yeah, button up." He turned away, and Charli looked after him, confused.

If this is their idea of maintaining candidates' privacy, I'd like to see the alternative!

She buttoned up her blouse and jacket. The fabric of her blouse rasped her nipples. Somehow having her breasts unbound under her shirt seemed almost obscene. The skirt was drawn modestly down over her legs. As she stared down at her lap, she saw a light glowing through the fabric and realized it was emitted by the camera between her legs. Her gaze flew to the wall.

And there they were. Video feeds of her face, various angles of her body, even her feet, and, of course, the feed from under her skirt―showing everybody in the room every millimeter of her pussy.

A pussy that pulsed visibly as soon as Charli's dismayed eyes started taking in those images.

Why? Why? Stop responding! They're just fitting you out to a sex toy! What's so turn-on-able about that? Down, girl!

Melissa said brightly, "The Robasm has a schematic of your body structure based on input data that includes the images you see on the wall there. Sometimes it will do surprising things. It will go under your clothes. It will enter you in your orifices. There will be sensations of wetness. Aside from entry assists, be assured you are not getting moistened by any external substance―this is accomplished by texture and temperature differentials, as well as the Robasm using your own natural lubrication. The one exception is petroleum jelly that will be used for all anal stimulation. Any questions so far?"

Enter you in your orifices? Plural?

And then Melissa's last words hit her.

Anal stimulation?

Oh, God. Oh, no. Why had she agreed to this?

"I can really stop this thing any time I want?" was all she could think to say once she found her voice.

Ted spoke up. "Definitely. Once we start it, the robot will keep going for forty minutes unless you stop it, either by pausing it for ten seconds with the control in your hand, or by using the emergency voice command. If you do end the program with the voice command, remember, that's it. All functions cease and it logs off and would need to be rebooted to be used again."

Gordon inserted, "Ms. Fontina, rebooting is a fairly long process which would cut into our time for the next candidate, so be aware of this please and only use the voice command if absolutely necessary."

"Ah. I see."

Melissa said, "Do you have any questions before we start, Ms. Fontina?"

Charli licked her lips. "Draken? I mean, Mr. Almatto?"

"Yes, Ms. Fontina?" his deep voice said.

Charli blushed and avoided looking at him directly. "This isn't the easiest thing I've ever done. Will you come here and, um, and..."

Everyone stared at her.

"Will you stand here with me, close to me, and...I mean, and...be next to me? For moral support?"

Because I don't think I can get through this without you and I'd really like to hold your hand at least.

Draken chuckled. "No, Ms. Fontina. I'd like to, but I can't. For one thing, I don't want to get caught in the cameras' crossfire. For another, if I do, I'll be highly likely to end the program and carry you out of here. I'd like you to have a shot at this job. At this distance, you're safe from my clutches."

Gordon and Ted burst into laughter, and Melissa giggled. "Trust you to break the ice with your nonsense, Draken," Gordon sputtered. "Things are getting a little intense, aren't they?"

"Ms. Fontina tends to bring on intensity," Draken drawled. "She already likes the machine quite a lot, as you can see."

All three scientists obligingly contemplated the image of Charli's pussy on the wall and nodded. "You're very responsive, Ms. Fontina," Ted said. "That's really great. I wish our testers had all been so easy to please."

Charli groaned. "I really can't help it."

"That's why you're here," Ted said. "Because you're easy to incite to orgasm. Super, super easy." He was staring at the feed of Charli's pussy and his Adam's apple bobbed.

Charli didn't think that last emphasis was necessary, and frowned at Ted. She caught Draken frowning, too.

"What we're keen to see," Melissa said enthusiastically, "is if the Robasm can keep you from having one. Draken himself designed your program, Ms. Fontina. He was here in the early hours of the morning working on it."

Charli winced. "Oh, he was, was he?"

Ted nodded. "He said the standard delayed gratification program would launch you toward fulfillment too easily, because you're, uh..."

"We call your type an uber responder," Melissa said. "We don't get too many of those, so we're really excited you're auditioning. Honestly, Ms. Fontina? I hope you get the job. I think you'd do a tremendous job spreading enthusiasm about Mr. Robasm, as we like to call him." Melissa winked.

"Let's get it started, then," Gordon said. "Who wants to do the honors?"

Draken said, "Allow me," and came forward, and Charli suddenly heard a change in the whirring sound the Robasm had been making.

And then the seat moved.

Charli gasped as her glasses fell up along the bridge of her nose.
Up
? Yes, she was being tipped back. And then her legs were falling open and her arms flailing before it registered that she wasn't actually falling backwards off the seat. She only had time to tense her muscles in anticipation before she felt something soothing and warm on her buttocks.

Her buttocks? Yup. Her bottom was being massaged. While the seat had angled her backward, she'd also been raised, she realized, by levers she hadn't been aware of. She wasn't actually directly on the seat anymore. The massage was happening through her skirt, a slow, steady stroking upward accompanied by heat. It was achingly soothing to her gluteal muscles.

Unconsciously she relaxed.

No sooner had the muscles in her abdomen eased then the rod between her legs began to enter her. Charli said, "Oh!" as the rod incrementally penetrated. Her body tightened automatically in simultaneous resistance and response. Immediately the advance of the rod slowed. She moaned, then peeked at the others in the room, who―thank heavens!―weren't even looking at her.

At least she was clothed. At least she was decently covered. Charli had a moment to be immensely grateful for the privacy offered by her skirt...until it hit her.

They
were
watching. Just not directly. They were watching her image on the wall.

Her gaze flew wildly around to the projection.

There it was―clear as daylight, the rod inching inside her. She could see the way her pussy tried to clutch at it.
So could everyone else.
Jesus freaking Christ. Melissa looked fascinated. Ted and Gordon looked pole-axed. And Draken...he wasn't looking at the wall. He was looking directly into her eyes.

Beautiful
, he mouthed.

And Charli almost exploded.

Her body arched and started quivering. Immediately the rod between her legs paused. Very slowly, it began to withdraw.

"Oh, no," she cried. The feeling of hollowing out while her internal muscles clutched futilely was tormenting. She panted for a few minutes while the machine remained motionless, now situated on the cusp of entering her hole. The room was motionless, too, and silent except for the sounds of her breathing.

"It's preventing you from climaxing, Ms. Fontina," Draken murmured. "That was a close one. A bit too close, maybe."

There was a slightly embarrassed ripple of laughter in the room. Charli was absolutely mortified. The machine had barely done anything and she'd been ready to come.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," she blurted. "I wasn't even trying."

"No need," Melissa said. "Honestly, we understand." She moved up toward Charli and leaned in to whisper in Charli's ear, "Truth, sister? If I had Draken Almatto watching me on this machine, I'd be in your state, I swear. You're doing great."

"Hey, no whispering," Ted said.

"He just hates being left out of all the fun," Gordon confided.

While they were bantering, the machine started up again. Inexorably the rod advanced. Charli's pussy was invaded until the rubber attachment was embedded in so deeply, Charli moaned with pleasure.

Stop that. Every time you moan, people are listening. Keep it to yourself if it feels good.

And then the chair began to rock slowly forward and back.

Charli's eyes popped. As the Robasm gently swung her forward and back, the rod inside her started an easy rhythm of sliding in and out. Not much, just a little, but enough to tantalize her.