Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“What?” Sammi exclaimed. “But I told you, I don’t have a boyfriend right now! And I can’t just ask some random guy to…to lick me like that!”
Her face was so hot it felt like her hair might catch on fire as she spoke. She’d never been much for that particular sexual act—mainly because she got the distinct feeling that most guys really didn’t like it very much, even if they pretended otherwise.
“Well, there is one other way to remove the compound. Or rather, to break the molecular bonds and stop the reaction,” Roark said. “But I’m afraid it’s rather delicate and dangerous and you’ll need my help.”
“What? Why would I need your help?” Sammi demanded. God, this was just getting worse and worse!
“Because,” her boss said dryly. “You can’t use the molecular wand on yourself—if you get the wrong frequency you could damage a very delicate area.”
“Molecular wand?” Sammi didn’t like the sound of that.
“Don’t worry—it’s perfectly safe as long as it’s handled by someone who knows what they’re doing. Come on.” Roark nodded at the locked door on the far side of the office—the one Sammi had been curious about ever since she’d started work with him. “Let’s go into my inner lab and I’ll do what needs to be done.”
Ten
“What in the world is all this?” Sammi looked around in surprise at the light table spread with various paraphernalia. There were several delicate and complicated-looking machines that appeared to be hooked to soft, adjustable harnesses, as well as many different tools lined up in orderly precision on the glowing surface of the table.
Roark sighed.
“This is my work area, which I did not intend to show you for some time yet. But circumstances have forced me to speed up my timetable.”
The circumstances being that I used the wrong ointment for lube, Sammi thought, blushing all over again. But then her scientific curiosity got the better of her embarrassment.
“You’re not just a scientist, you’re an inventor,” she said, going over to the table and looking down at the harnesses and machines. She looked at him. “And did you say you made the ointment too?”
He nodded.
“I did. It’s all part of my fertility treatment for unmated human females who want to carry a Kindred child.”
“Well, you’ll have to tell me about it later.” Sammi winced and rubbed her thighs together as her clit throbbed. “Where is this ‘molecular wand’ you told me could help me?”
“Here.” Roark picked up a small rectangular box from the far end of the table. He took off the top and pulled out a long, purple wand which was thick at one end and had a long neck at the other. At the end of the neck was a tiny purple bead, a little smaller than a marble.
Roark flipped a switch at the bottom and the little marble began to glow and hum.
“All right,” he said to Sammi. “Let’s go into the next room so you can take off your skirt and I can use the wand on you.”
“Take off my skirt?” Sammi looked at him blankly.
“And your underthings—your panties, I believe you call them.” Roark nodded. He frowned at Sammi. “How do you expect me to help you if I can’t reach you and apply the wand to the place where you rubbed the ointment?”
Eleven
Sammi couldn’t believe she was doing this.
In the next room of Roark’s inner lab—which was apparently much larger than it had at first appeared, was a kind of padded table with stirrups on it—much like something you might find in a Gynecologist’s office. And somehow Roark had persuaded her to take off her skirt and panties and climb onto the table and put her feet in the stirrups.
Now he was attempting to open the stirrups—and her legs—but Sammi was resisting.
Roark gave her that stern frown of his that she was beginning to know so well.
“Now, Samantha—how can I reach you and use the wand on you if you don’t part your legs?”
“This is crazy!” Sammi exclaimed, keeping her legs firmly closed. “Why can’t I just use the wand on myself?”
“Because,” Roark growled, a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “The wand isn’t a toy—it’s a precisely calibrated instrument which must be tuned to the exact frequency of the bonding fruit’s molecules in order to break the bonds between them and stop the aphrodisiac effect. If used incorrectly it can result in anything from a case of what would feel like mild sunburn to severe and permanent nerve damage.” He glared at Sammi. “Now do you understand why you can’t use it yourself?”
Sammi bit her lip. She certainly didn’t want either a mild sunburn or permanent nerve damage, especially on her pussy.
“That sounds dangerous,” she protested. “Are you sure there’s no other way?”
“The molecular wand is perfectly safe when it’s being used by someone who knows how to handle it,” Roark assured her. “And the only other way to break the molecular bonds and stop the effect the ointment is having on you, is for me to spread your thighs and lick your pussy.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Is that what you want? Because I will do it, Samantha. Your scent is intoxicating and I can only imagine how good you taste.”