Page 28 of Her Alien Boss

My body is humming with need. My mind is running wild. I’m sure I’m staring blankly because I can’t manage more than that right now.

“Am I, uhm, doing this right?” I ask. “The work, I mean?”

“You’re doing well,” Arkon says with a knowing smile that contains a lot of approval. Enough to scare me. I may not be certain as to how good I am, but I know he is enjoying doing it to me.

“It just feels like I’m not really doing anything? It feels like stuff is happening? But I’m experiencing it more passively?” I put all my concerns in question form so as to make them more plausibly deniable.

“You are doing a great deal. You are becoming aligned with the machine. Or at least, you will be once I run a proper calibration sequence,” he smirks.

“That thing that was touching me was the machine? The actual machine I’m here to learn to work with?”

“A sexual interface provides the kind of sensitivity and specificity that any other controller couldn’t hope to replicate. When we are finished, you are going to be one with it, you will be able to control many things,” he explains patiently, much as he has before.

“What kind of things?”

“Anything from robots to ships, and beyond.”

“From sex?”

“That’s a reductive understanding of it, but yes, it’s a solid one too. We’re training the machine to read your body’s most sensitive responses. Your thoughts, your feelings, your desires. There will be little between you and the machine once the synthesis is complete.”

This sounds incredible. I’ve seen a lot of amazing tech, but I am starting to think this might be the biggest score in human history—and even better, I am going to have full control of it. I try not to look too pleased or too sneaky. I am probably failing in both regards.

“You look less flushed,” he says. “Are you feeling more normal?”

“Whatever normal is, I guess I am feeling it,” I say, knowing that response is less than entirely helpful, but going with it anyway.

“Good,” he says. “Back to work, then.” He lifts me up in his four hands and deposits me where he wants me to be. He makes short work of the straps, putting each of them across my body securely and snugly, checking that it’s not too tight and not pinching.

I am confused again. Maybe this is just work to him. He’s got a very workmanlike approach to such things. Even when he flipped my skirt up and lowered my underwear, there was something about it that felt businesslike.

I am in a combination of ongoing shock and arousal as the machine being operated by this handsome alien sets about mapping my responses. I know a calibration sequence when I feel it.

It tests my clit first, vibrating gently, and then more intensely until I buck and writhe uncontrollably. Then it stops immediately, and the same process happens in my ass. A slow vibration that intensifies over a period of about a minute, followed by a squirt of what I guess is lubrication, and a very slow thrusting motion.

“What?” I gasp.

“Settle, pet,” he murmurs. “This is for your own good. You will want the computer to know appropriate parameters when I put you in time out.”

“The hell is time out?”

I shouldn’t ask questions like that. They only lead to answers I don’t want to hear.

“When you misbehave, and it is already obvious that you will, you will be put into a sensory chamber. Your head will remain outside it, as will your legs and arms, but your torso will receive various stimulation. It is also possible for you to be bred in such a chamber.”

I stare at him. I’ve seen contraptions like that on websites back on Earth. Places I probably shouldn’t have been looking at except for I was curious and kind of bored and they made me aroused sometimes when they weren’t weirding me out.

What this guy is describing is essentially a full body stockade, or a…

“You’d put me in a fucking box?”

“A Fucking Box might be a better term for it,” he allows. “A little crude, but humans sometimes respond to direct communication better. Yes. If you keep acting out and getting caught for things you know better than to do, I will strap you inside an enclosure and fuck you until you’re an apologetic little human.”

I bite my lower lip and try not to look too turned on by that.

Arkon laughs. “By the gods!” he declares. “That wasn’t even a threat as far as you are concerned, was it? You want something like that to happen!”

“I do not,” I deny hotly.