Specimen (6 page)

I grab the back of her neck with my hand, pushing her further to the floor and holding her there.  Tearing the towel from my waist, I take my dick in my free hand and position it against her.

Have I ever done this before?

I grasp her hip and shove forward.  She cries out as I enter her, but I barely hear the sound.  I can only feel the warmth around my cock.  I pull back and thrust into her again, my fingers digging into her skin.  My ass clenches as I move, rocking into her as fast as I can.

I want this to be Riley.  I want to feel
her
body gripping my cock.  I want to hear
her
grunts as I shove into her.  This should be her body, but it’s not.  I can’t even shake the thought long enough to close my eyes and pretend it’s her.  All I can do is get this over with.

I slam into her body relentlessly.  My balls slap against her, and she moans with every stroke.  I don’t hold back but embrace the sensation as it ripples through my cock.

I release into the whore and immediately pull out.  Pushing myself back to my feet, I take a step away as Mary glances at me from over her shoulder.  Slowly, she pulls her short skirt back down enough to cover her pussy.  She pulls her legs under her and pushes up with her hands.

By the time Mary is on her feet, the door is opening.  Riley’s gaze meets mine.  Her face is flushed, and I can see from here that her breathing is abnormally quick.  I watch her lick her lips before she lowers her eyes.  I don’t bother to cover myself.  It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, but having her look at me now after what I’ve just done feels different.

The physical frustration I felt has subsided.  Like a typical man, I want to lie down and take a nap now, but there’s no satisfaction in the act I’ve just completed.  I can barely remember what it felt like.

That wasn’t what I wanted.  It wasn’t what I needed.  Riley is the only one who can soothe these feelings.

My tension may have been diminished, but I am in no way sated.

*****

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Captain Mills says.  “Dr. Grace tells me you’ve been outperforming the rest of your group in nearly every aspect.”

Captain Mills is a short and stocky woman with light brown hair greying at her temples.  She wears a uniform with several commendations on her jacket.  I have no idea what any of the symbols mean, but she has a lot of them.

“We’re going to run you through a scenario in the VR grid,” Riley says, “and Captain Mills will monitor your progress.  This one will be a little more challenging than the others have been.  You’ll have to rely on more than just your strength and speed.  We want to show her how well the tactical programming of your implants works.”

“What’s the scenario?”

“Infiltrate and capture,” she says.  “You’re going to have to use your stealth to avoid detection.”

Captain Mills nods to me and leaves the room, heading to the monitoring station.  Through the glass, I can see her sit down and activate the monitors that will show her what I see when I’m in the virtual environment.

“Do me proud,” Riley whispers with a smile.

“I will.”  The words I utter are more than a promise.  They feel like a solemn oath.

I enter the virtual center and climb into the device.  I hook myself up to the sensors.  I’ve done this so many times now, I don’t even have to look at the connections as I plug myself in and grasp the handles.  Riley places the interface behind my ear.  The scenario activates, and I look out across dry, cracked ground.  There are buildings in the distance.

I look down to my hands at the long rifle, but I don’t need it right now.  I strap it to my back and make my way toward the closest building.  I need cover before I can get a better look at my surroundings.

Riley’s voice echoes through my head, providing me with both information and encouragement.  The assignment is difficult—I have to rely on instincts I don’t understand to keep myself from being seen.  I’m actually surprised as I grab the briefcase I was sent to retrieve and make my way out undetected.

The grey fog fills the area as I succeed.  Riley removes the interface, and I look to her smiling face.

“One of your best times,” she says.

“All part of the service,” I reply with a grin.

“Get yourself unhooked,” she says.  “We’ll head back to the lab shortly.  Captain Mills will probably want to talk to you.”

I nod and Riley joins Captain Mills on the other side of the glass.  As I remove the sensors, I watch them talk together.

“The increased dose had a major impact on him this morning.  I was afraid it was too much, but I think his performance shows it was worth the risk.”

“How did he react after the new injections?”

“He became comatose for a few minutes.  Once I brought him out of it, his stress levels were still very high.  I honestly thought he was going to force himself on me for a moment.”

It takes me a moment before I realize I can’t hear them speak.  I’m a little startled to realize I’m actually reading their lips.  I don’t know where the skill came from, but I focus on their mouths as they continue their dialogue.

“I saw the requisition for a prostitute.”

“I didn’t see another option.”

“There is one, you know.”

“I realize, but I’m still not sure how I feel about that.  It seems…unfair.”

“Fair is irrelevant, Dr. Grace.  You’re here for a reason.  You’ve got the best specimen in the whole group.  Think about how far he could go if you added that little bonus and strengthened the bond to the maximum.”

They stand and move out of the windowed room, out of my view.  It’s several minutes before they come back into the training area, both smiling.

“How do you feel?” Captain Mills asks.

“Good,” I tell her.  “Ready for more.”

“Excellent.”  She turns to Riley and motions toward the door.  I follow them both back to the lab where I sit on the edge of the bed, and they both stand before me.

“I have some questions for you,” Captain Mills says.  She pulls out a small, hand-held computer and glances at the screen.  “Can you tell me why you’re here?”

I glance at Riley, but she gives me no clue as to how I should answer.

“I’m a volunteer,” I say.

“Go on.”

“I’m training to fight against the Carson Alliance.  I’ll be able to get behind their war machines and maintain a tactical advantage.  My senses are heightened, and the cyber implants in my head allow me to learn faster and perform better.  I adapt quickly, get fatigued slowly, and I’m able to go without sleep or sustenance for long periods of time.  I am the ideal soldier.”

“Anything else?”

I look to Riley again.  She’s rubbing her lower lip with her teeth, and I’m reminded of the last time she talked about her father.  My thighs tense and I curl my fingers back toward my palms as the now-familiar rage dances inside my skull.

“And I’m going to kill Peter Hudson.”

Captain Mills tilts her head and narrows her eyes slightly.

“Are you now?” she murmurs quietly.  “Isn’t that interesting?”

My dreams continue.

Most of them tell me nothing I haven’t already figured out.  I once lived on a farm with my sister.  Our father was gone, but I don’t know if he left or if he died.  I only know I was responsible for my sister and for getting the crops to grow.

When I wake, I try to reconcile the images from my dreams with what I have been told—that I am a volunteer in this experiment.  It doesn’t fit.  Why would I have left my sister, and why did I have a farm if my family worked for Mills, the health and technical conglomerate?

The information doesn’t fit.

One thing I do know for sure—ever since I made a conscious decision not to speak of my dreams, I haven’t experienced any loss of time.  I haven’t woken up feeling like I’ve missed days, and if my beard grows out, it is because I remember not bothering to shave the day before.  Even as the drug treatments increase, I forget nothing.

Every ten days, the injections change.  The intensity of my reactions to the drugs elevates each time.  Riley keeps telling me it will get easier, but it doesn’t.   Every time the formula changes, I react as I had before.  There’s pain, tension, a nearly uncontrollable need for violence, and later, fatigue.

“You’re doing so well.”  Riley’s praise washes over me, and I smile through the pain of the most recent set of injections.

The desire to please her is always a strong one, and I’m thrilled when my efforts are recognized.  Because of that, I’ve endured countless changes to the injections Riley gives me.  Captain Mills is also pleased, or so I hear, but her opinion matters little to me.  Riley is happy when Mills is happy—that’s all I care about.

I feel the gentle stroke of her fingers on the inside of my left forearm.  Deep under my skin, there’s a tingling sensation as she touches me—almost a vibration.  I lean forward and place my forehead against her shoulder as another wave of nauseating pain hits me.

“Hang in there,” she whispers.  “It will be over soon.”

It won’t.  Even as I begin to regain some control, the aftereffects always continue for several hours.  Sometimes Riley takes me immediately to the virtual training center where I’ll be subjected to the most violent scenarios.  Often it’s nothing more than a room full of other soldiers, and my only direction is to kill them all with my bare hands.  Other times, another prostitute will arrive, and I will take my aggression out on her.  It’s never the same one twice, and I always feel empty and alone afterward.  They rarely bring me any real relief.

I’m well aware of the connection between sex and violence that is being instilled in me.  I crave them both in equal amounts.  I’m often hard during the simulated battles, and sex with the prostitutes is always fast and rough.

And unsatisfying.

I want Riley, but she always denies me.  Even when her scent changes, and I can sense desire in her, she makes me stop my advances.  I see her reaction when the prostitutes leave, and I know she watches from the mirrored room.  I know if affects her, and I wonder if she touches herself when she watches or if there are others in the room with her.

Strangely enough, I never masturbate.  I’ve considered it, but only long enough to know I have no desire to take care of myself in such a way.  It would leave me feeling lonelier than I think I could stand.  I need a woman.  I need Riley.

My body adjusts to the chemicals running through it enough for me to focus outside of myself again.  Riley’s hand is still on my forearm, and my head still rests against her shoulder.  Her scent fills my nostrils, and I run the tip of my nose up her neck, inhaling deeply.

I’m calmer—slightly—but I don’t move away from her.  I’m hard, and even though I know she isn’t going to grace me with access to her pussy, I’d rather be close to Riley and thinking about her than have another hooker brought in for me to relieve my frustrations.

“Better now?”  Her soft tone focuses me.

“Yes and no.”  I’m reluctant to tell her I’m all right.  I’m afraid she’ll make me let go of her.

“I know these have been intense,” she says.  “You’ve almost hit the maximum dose, so this shouldn’t happen many more times.”

“Did I know it was going to hurt this much?” I ask.

“What do you mean?”

“When I volunteered for this,” I say, clarifying my thoughts, “did you tell me it would hurt?”

“I wasn’t there,” Riley says, “so I don’t know exactly what they told you.”

“I bet they didn’t tell me.”  I shift my legs.  They ache as though I’d just spent hours in the gym.  “If I’d known, I don’t think I would have agreed.”

Riley doesn’t respond.  Her fingers dance over the inside of my left arm, and I relax against her again.  I think about what I’ve just said, wondering what possible reason I could have had for becoming a volunteer for this project without knowing exactly what was in store for me.

Maybe I did know.

I run my nose along Riley’s shoulder.  Now that the pain has subsided, she fills my thoughts.   If I had known about her, maybe I would have volunteered anyway.  Maybe she makes it all worth it.  Just having the opportunity to be this close to her might be worth all the pain.  When she gives a little more of herself, enduring whatever is in store for me is given reason.

She’ll let me kiss her, but she always makes me stop long before I want her to.  Maybe that will be enough for now.  I press my lips to the side of her neck and then move over to cover her mouth.  I feel her grip on my arm tighten as her mouth opens, and I slide my tongue in to taste her.  I raise my hand to cup her face and then fan my fingers over the strands of her hair.  I run the spot behind her ear, just above her hairline, and break the kiss.  I keep my lips close to hers, feeling her breath on my face.

“I want you so much.”  It’s the same comment I always make, and I have no expectation of a different reaction.  Now she’ll tell me to let go of her, and she’ll either take me to training or another hooker will be brought to the lab.

Riley looks into my eyes and takes a long breath.  Her fingers tense against my skin, and I wait for her to push me back enough to untangle herself from my embrace and start logging my statistics into her tablet.

But she doesn’t move.

For several seconds, I keep massaging her hairline with my fingertips, and she keeps watching my face.  There is nothing I want to do more than to have her beneath me, legs open and wanting.  The images begin to play through my head, and then she finally speaks.

“Do it.”

I hear her words.

Absorb them.

Bright flashes in my eyes as well as my mind blind me and freeze my movements for a fraction of a second.  Comprehension takes hold as I stare into her eyes.

Fear.

Anticipation.

I’ve seen those signs in her before, many times.  She’s always held back, always denied me.  Her chest rises and falls with her breathing.  The skin of her neck is flushed.  Her pupils are dilated.  She moistens her lips with her tongue.

Above all the other indications, I can smell it on her.  The delicate, unmistakable scent flows over me.

Desire.

This time, it is coupled with the one key element that has always been lacking before—permission.

Reaching out, my fingers grasp the collar of her lab coat, and I pull her down.

Fabric tears.  I barely register my actions as her lab coat falls in pieces to the floor.  The rest of her clothing follows quickly, shredded beyond repair.

She gasps as I flip her over easily, pinning her beneath me and pushing her legs apart with my knees.  I have no interest in foreplay.  I already know she’s ready.  At this moment, all that matters is getting my cock inside her as quickly as possible.

I shove my shorts down just far enough to free my dick.  I lean over her, wrap my hand around the base of my shaft and press it to her opening.  I push forward, feeling her body give way as the head of my cock penetrates her heat.

Wrapping my arms under her shoulders, I hold us face to face.  I look straight into her eyes, half expecting her to tell me to stop, but she says nothing.  With one hard thrust, I bury myself in her.

My head explodes in a series of bright, white pulses of light.  My skin burns and vibrates.  I hold myself still, and for a moment, I believe I’ve actually been electrocuted.  The initial shock of merging with her fades just enough for me to gather my wits.

Staring into her eyes, I move in rolling, rhythmic thrusts.  Riley grips my biceps and stares back at me.  Her mouth is slightly open, but I don’t move to kiss her—not yet.  I just watch her eyes as I move inside of her.

Our bodies may be connected below, but our souls are joined in our eyes.

Sex with Riley is nothing like fucking the hookers.  My experiences with them are nothing more than a physical release of sexual frustration.  Being inside of Riley is completely different.  I don’t want to come—I don’t want this to end.  I would be willing to endure anything else as long as I can feel this way again.

Arching my back, I pull almost all of the way out of her and then slide forward again.  Riley’s eyelids flutter, and she gasps as I do it again and again.  Watching her is too much—I have to look away or I’m going to be finished.

I tilt my head back.  Through my partially closed eyes, I see my reflection in the two-way mirror.  Is someone watching us?  Maybe there is no one there today.  Could that be why Riley has acquiesced?  Would she be in trouble if someone were to see us?

I regain a little control and focus my thoughts back on the woman below me.  I run my hands over her sides, her stomach, and her breasts.  I caress her shoulder and her neck as I press my mouth against her lips and taste her with my tongue.  I kiss down the front of her neck and over each collarbone, running my tongue along her skin.

I find one breast with my hand, cup it, and run my thumb over her nipple before I take it into my mouth.  Riley’s moans become more audible as I lick and suck at first one and then the other.  She runs her hands up and down my back and bends her legs so she can push against the bed with her feet.

Pulling back, I wrap a hand around her knee and pull her leg up to give myself a better angle.  My penetrations go deeper, and Riley squeezes her eyes shut as she tilts her head back.  Her shoulders press into the bed, and she arches her back as she cries out.

The sight is glorious.  It nearly brings me to tears.

Pressure is already building inside of me.  I don’t just feel it in my cock and balls.  The tension spreads through my legs, my stomach, and my chest.  It’s tempting to just let go—in fact, I would be content to stay right where I am for the rest of eternity—but I don’t want this to end quickly, so I fight against the need.  Guiding my cock slowly, I penetrate completely with each stroke, and Riley begins to moan beneath me.

With my hand still wrapped around her leg, I lean forward and kiss her shoulder, her neck, and her ear.  I want to taste every part of her, discover every nuance of her skin.  Her breath is warm as it escapes from her mouth in sharp gasps, and she digs her nails into my shoulders.  Though my skin registers it as pain, I crave more of it.  I tilt my hips, pressing hard against her pubic bone.  I can feel her shudder as she pushes against me.

She cries out and nearly lifts herself off the bed.  I feel her body clamp around my cock as she claws at my back.  My balls tighten and my stomach quivers.  I’m balancing on the edge, but I can’t hold back any longer.

When I come in her, it isn’t just the physical tension that releases.  My body feels instant relief, and my mind feels liberated.  Everything I have been through up to this point no longer matters.  It’s brought me to this moment.

Dropping on top of her body, I wrap my arms around her and hold her close to me, wanting to hang on to the feeling.  I’m afraid if I let go, it will all slip from my grasp, and I’ll never feel this peace again.

I am completely and totally sated.  I could have run a marathon, fought off a platoon, and spent hours lifting weights and not have been any more exhausted than I am right now.  Beyond the exhaustion there is satisfaction—deep, warm, and comforting.

This is what bliss is.

Riley’s smell is different, too.  It’s still sweet, but there’s an undercurrent of something else I hadn’t noticed before.  My cock twitches inside of her, and I realize her scent is now laced with mine.  I touch the top of her head with my cheek and inhale deeper.

“Sten, you’re crushing me.”

Slowly, I pull out of her, push myself up, and roll to one side.  I start to position myself to give her enough room next to me, intending to hold her closely as long as she will let me, but my plans are quickly thwarted.

Riley immediately pushes herself off the bed.  She reaches down to her torn lab coat, but there isn’t enough of it in one piece to bother with.  She sets the remnants on the table and walks quickly to the cabinet where she dresses in clothing far too big for her.

She says nothing as she wraps her arms around herself and rushes out the door.