Authors: Natalie Kristen
Tags: #romance adult, #Fiction, #Adult, #Erotic Romance Fiction
“
Why do you want to know?” I whisper at
last.
“
I need to know...” he says.
“
Why?” My voice is stronger now as my anger
rises. This is none of his damn business.
“
It concerns the contract...”
My eyes round. “The contract...is for sex?
I...I'm sorry...I should go...thank you for the tea, it was...”
“
Yes. No. No! It is...it isn't. Not really.
Please, Sophia, please sit. Let me explain,” Julian jumps up
to hold my arm.
“
Don't.” I glare down at his hand. “Don't.
Touch. Me.”
He releases me immediately. “Just hear me out.
It...it's not for sex. It is related to sex, but not...ah...okay,
the contract...” He runs his hand through his hair, making it
stand up even more. “It's to test a machine.”
“
What are you talking about?” My initial
misgivings have been spot-on! No wonder he lives and works so far
out from all civilization. He is a mad scientist, a stark, raving
lunatic! I should just have turned around and ran the moment he
opened the gates. But he had looked so normal, so handsome. My
freak-o-meter must be out of order, way out of order for the longest
time. That's why I just can't seem to detect them jerks and creeps,
until it's too late. Damn! My ribcage seems to constrict so that
even breathing feels difficult and painful. My eyes dart towards the
door. Don't panic and don't falter. I have to keep all my strength
and all my wits about me. If I'm fast enough, maybe I can still
escape with my life and my sanity. I will just have to kick him real
hard in the balls and make a run for it. Just get the hell out of
this madhouse and run like the wind.
I start to inch away from him.
“
I...I'm working on a...a machine to...to try
to...” Julian swallows repeatedly before sucking in a long
breath. Unable to find the right words, he finally blurts out, “It's
a sex machine.”
“
A what?” I am now completely convinced of
his lunacy. I'd better try to escape while I can. I continue
backing slowly towards the door.
“
Yes.” He nods rapidly. “That's what
it is...or not, not entirely, I mean...how could it, right?”
He barks out a short laugh, and I almost squeal in fright. Oh God!
He'd looked so sane, and sexy, at first. Who knew lunatics could
speak and act so normally? Then again, that was how serial killers
and ax murderers appeared to their victims as well—I'm sure
their victims thought their killers were sane, simple, nice people,
right up until their throats were slit, perhaps not even then.
Julian is pacing in small, tight circles in front of me.
“The human body...” he begins. “...is a complex,
complicated, mystifying work of art. It is a thing of beauty, of
utility, of pain and pleasure. The female body is even more
mysterious and beautiful. It...is like a temple, secret and sacred.
It can plunge you to the deepest, darkest depths of passion and take
you to heights and pleasures unimaginable,” he whispers,
looking deeply into my eyes. I start to shiver involuntarily as his
eyes move down my neck, past my shoulders and linger on the swell of
my breasts, before sliding down my waist, hips and legs. I can
almost feel the heat of his gaze burning into my skin.
Shaking my head to clear it, I stammer, “W-what
does your machine do?” Keep him talking. Distract him. Don't
arouse his suspicion. The dos and don'ts when engaging with crazy,
murderous scientists. I should have paid more attention when
watching horror movies, instead of squeezing my eyes shut and
screaming myself senseless at the most frightening bits.
Moving his eyes back up to my face, he sighs and
continues in a surprisingly calm, clinical voice, “It has been
found that quite a sizable percentage of the female population has
never achieved an orgasm. These women never, or rarely, experience
the full sensation and pleasures of an erotic or sexual climax. Sex,
and its glorious pleasures, are like food, water and air. They're
basic human needs. Humans, animals, insects...all living things have
been eating, drinking, breathing—and mating, since the
beginning of time. It's all part of nature. So what would happen if
a basic need is denied? Yes, Sophia, if your needs aren't met, if
you constantly deny your body and your senses, you'll slowly wither
and die.”
I stand rooted to the spot. His last word seems to echo
round the room and reverberate in my mind. The question leaks from
my lips. “Die? Are you...going to kill me?”
Julian starts, his eyes wide. “What?”
“
Am I going to die?” I repeat in a
strangely detached voice.
“
Die? No one is going to die, Sophia.” He
looks genuinely confused and a little worried. “What's wrong?
Are you ill?”
All I can do is shake my head.
“
You'd better sit down,” he says, guiding me
to the chair.
“
No!”
He jumps visibly at the vehemence of my protest, then
puts both hands up, a gesture of helplessness or surrender.
“
I can understand your discomfort and distress.
Human sexuality is...still not openly explored and is still
considered a taboo subject by many. It is a complex area of study,
with far-reaching psychological and physiological implications and
consequences. The machine that I am working on...” He blows
out a breath. “I would test it on myself, but this model is
for the female body. I said earlier that if you're denied a basic
need, you die. The death may not be physical, but mental, emotional,
spiritual, psychological. There are many ways to die, and many of us
die a thousand deaths in our lifetimes. We just don't realize it,
and so we go on as zombies, mere shadows of what we could have been.
How do you feel when you don't experience an orgasm, Sophia? How
does your body and mind react? No, you don't have to answer that.
I'm just giving an example. Generally, if you don't feel fulfilled
in any area of your life, frustration, resentment and discontent sets
in. Sexual fulfillment is just as important to humans beings as any
other need. And needs have to be sated and satisfied. It is part of
being human, an essential part of being a woman. I wanted to study
how the female body could be fully and completely aroused, to slowly
explore and pleasure every inch of her body. Every woman should know
and acknowledge this desire, this hunger to feel and love. To
experience the shattering intensity, to scream and feel alive. Did
you know that bringing a woman to orgasm was a known medical
treatment for hysteria and depression as early as the Victoria era?”
he finishes earnestly and falls silent. Dropping his gaze, he takes
a step back, as if giving me some time and space to fully absorb all
the facts that he has just laid before me.
While I stare between him and the door, Julian walks
back behind his desk and pulls out a chart. There are colored boxes
and all manner of squiggly lines across the large piece of paper. “I
just need three weeks,” he murmurs.
I sway on my feet as my landlord's voice chooses at this
moment to screech through my brain.
I'm giving you three weeks,
no more, then out you go!
Three weeks. I squeeze my eyes shut. This
contract...it's just for three weeks. And the money would go a long
way.
Snapping my eyes open, I force the tremor from my voice
and say, “You're looking for testers...for your machine? Just
for three weeks? And you'll pay thirty grand?”
He looks up in shock, but manages to recover quickly
enough. “Yes. That's right.”
“
What...does the test entail?” I ask
breathlessly.
“
You just have to test the machine. To see if
you're...happy, with what it does,” he says carefully.
“
It's supposed to make me orgasm,” I
clarify. “So...if I don't?”
“
Then there is something wrong with the machine.”
“
And if after three weeks of testing, I fail
to...be happy with your machine...”
“
You'd have fulfilled your contract. You'll be
paid in full and you're free to go,” he answers firmly.
I draw a sharp breath. “Will I...be in any
danger?”
Julian frowns deeply. “I don't think so. I
certainly hope not. I'll be monitoring your heart rate, pulse,
breathing, brain activity and other bodily reactions very closely.
I'll have to record all these down. For your safety, there will be
some restraints. But this is not like bondage or anything. If
you're after those...” He raises his eyebrows.
“
No. I'm not into that.”
He nods wordlessly.
“
And the contract commences immediately?” I
gulp.
“
There will be some questions you need to answer,
and some papers to sign. But if it all checks out, yes, the contract
is effective immediately.”
I answer with a resolute nod, more to assure myself than
him. I take a couple of steadying breaths, desperately scrolling
through the reasons and justifications in my spinning head. I know I
should be convincing myself not to sign the contract, to just get up
and walk away from this strange, sexy doctor while I can. But
instead, my disobedient mind starts doing the opposite. I start
trawling through all the reasons why I should sign the contract.
One, I need the money. Two, the machine sounds harmless enough.
Three, the doctor is sexy as hell and my heart and my gut tell me
that he is not crazy and that he may be the sanest man I've met in a
long time. Usually the crazier something sounds, the closer to the
truth it is. It is always those sweet, charming stories told in
cooing, honeyed tones that turned out to be the biggest lies. What
Julian has just presented to me are the plain, awkward, barely
palatable facts. He didn't sugarcoat anything. Four, I haven't had
an orgasm in like, forever, and if a machine can give it to me, why
not? The rest of the reasons all involve the attractiveness of the
doctor's person. I must be more sex-starved than I'd realized, and
as Julian had put it to succinctly and bluntly, if we deny ourselves,
starve ourselves, refuse to give our minds and bodies what they
craved and needed, we die in a thousand little ways. But we die
nevertheless.
I jerk my head up. What the heck. I have been dead for
so long anyway.
“
Okay. Let's do this.” I look up at him,
refusing to let myself waver. “What do you need to know?
Sexual history? Diseases? First time?”
He flinches visibly. A brief look of anger, pain or
sadness, or all three—I can't tell, flashes across his
features. He passes a hand across his stubbled chin, as if to wipe
away whatever annoyance or discomfort he is struggling with. His
throat moves as he looks down for a long time, but he doesn't say a
word.
Finally, I hear him exhale and he looks up. “All
right then. We'll just go through the questions...” He turns
around to grab a clipboard and a pen. “When I'm done with my
questions, then you can ask yours. Okay?” he says gently.
I nod.
He clears his throat awkwardly but I can see the
feverish light shining in his eyes. “First question then.
When did you last have sex, Sophia?”
“
I...” I frown deeply, pursing my lips.
“
Just a rough estimate will do, if you can't
recall exactly. When was your last sexual experience?” he
repeats. “And do you usually have difficulty achieving orgasm,
or do you climax easily, at the slightest...”
“
No! I don't have an orgasm at the drop of a hat,
if that's what you're implying. Not having sex for...for...”
I stutter. “...some time—,” I huff at irritation.
“—doesn't mean I'm horny and desperate!” I glare
at him, but frankly I am taken aback by my own outburst. I don't
even know why I am so annoyed and frustrated at his question.
Frustrated—that must be it. I cross my legs tightly. I am
extremely frustrated. And maybe a little horny, but I am definitely
not desperate. The doctor might be really sexy and handsome, with a
body that is just screaming to be let out of his stuffy shirt, but
that doesn't give him the right to be probing into my sexual affairs.
Or the sorry lack thereof.
He puts down his pen and stares at me for a long while.
His gaze is deep and penetrating, and he seems to be staring straight
into my soul, into my deepest, darkest fears and desires. I shift in
my seat, feeling the temperature climb exponentially and the crotch
of my panties suddenly warm and wet. I seem to be melting under his
gaze.
His eyes move to my lips and his gaze suddenly becomes
more intense. An urgency and heat flares in his dark, brown eyes and
he leans forward almost imperceptibly. “You are beautiful,”
he whispers.
My mouth opens and my mind goes blank for an instant.
No one has told me that in such a long time. I can hear my heart
hammering wildly in my chest. Can it be that Julian is attracted to
me as well, that the attraction here is mutual and not just my own
wishful thinking and sex-starved fantasizing?
I let my eyes roam down his lanky, muscular frame,
lingering on his waist and letting my burning gaze trail ever so
slowly lower down his delicious body. When I stare at the bulge
between his legs, Julian clears his throat sharply and straightens
up. I blush and bristle, suddenly annoyed at myself, and him. Who
was the one who started asking all these suggestive questions anyway?
The atmosphere is way too charged with sexual energy, pent-up,
frustrated sexual energy.