She felt a spike in her blood pressure every time they used that word. Her carotid artery throbbed so forcefully she could hear it in her ears.
Her heart rate increased when one of the attendants selected a small baton from the tray, holding it up and speaking to no one in particular in the language they had exchanged a few times. Decisions were made in silence, and Sonya found herself guessing about their communication systems.
But the thoughts flew from her head when the object began to make a low-pitched vibrating sound and glowed, as though energized and possibly hot. The attendant held it carefully, increasing her fear of it as he rotated toward her and moved it ever-closer to her pelvis.
She felt the mild heat radiating against her skin, the muted buzzing sound sending vibrations through the air that stroked her skin and agitated her desires and fears. The mix was potent and intoxicating. She didn’t know if the creatures were trying to build suspense and fear, but they seemed to be. He held the wand over her skin and swept it in a small pattern above her mound, circling lower and lower, watching her as her breathing became shallow and rapid. She lifted her head to watch him lower it to her skin.
Her muscles tensed, and the fear inside her squeezed, stretched, and burst when the wand came into contact with her rigid body, and she felt… nothing more than a sensual vibration and a warmth that bordered on uncomfortably hot.
Her eyes were drawn to her pubic mound once she realized it would not be painful. Her mouth fell open as the sparse pubic hairs seemed to disintegrate, disappearing with a crinkling sound so faint she thought she was imagining it. A very short burst of heat spiked through each hair follicle, and then the sensation was instantly gone.
On the heels of her relief, a fresh fear rolled in and snaked through her veins with her arousal: the hairs were gone without even so much as a burning sensation or smell. The wand was disintegrating material into… nothing, as far as she could tell. And it was so close to her most intimate parts, a dangerous, possibly lethal power, hovering right over her mound.
She tried to pull her knees together. It was a reflex, but the assistants reached calmly for her knee joint and seized them with the same understated strength that Rychor had exhibited. They didn’t apply much pressure, but she knew she couldn’t overcome, match, or even try their strength.
The attendant was finished with this part of the examination, and her completely bared pussy was now totally exposed. He moved to the front of the platform and pressed a gentle hand against the inside of her calf. Holding out a hand, he requested something in his language.
One attendant pressed sensors to her skin on her temples and at the back of her neck. One of the others picked up a tool, which she saw as he passed it to the other. It was undoubtedly a speculum.
She drew in a breath, anticipating the intrusion and the humiliation, red heat spreading across her cheeks and at the back of her neck as she pictured the scene. All of them watching. Their hands felt unfamiliar and unlike Rychor’s touch. She closed her watering eyes when the cool tip of the speculum grazed her entrance.
“You will not feel any pain,” the attendant said. “Only pressure.”
The speculum slid into her easily, and she cringed with embarrassment because she knew why: she was so wet form Rychor’s treatment of her that it required no lubrication. They were surely assessing this, and many other things.
The pressure was familiar, like any doctor’s exam, as the speculum was inserted and spread open. But the spreading continued, stretching her until she felt the pressure swelling into her anus, making something touch upon the place that Rychor had found that had pleasured her so much, and in such a humiliating way.
It grew and grew, and was just becoming uncomfortable when it stopped. She opened her eyes when it did, and saw objects being passed over her body… wands of strange sizes and shapes. She lifted her head again. “What are you… what are you doing?” she demanded.
The attendant looked at her, an object suspended in his hand. Then he touched the back of his neck.
“The commander has instructed to me to explain that you will be subjected to a variety of tests. Medical information will be gathered while the parameters of your pleasure are explored. You will not feel pain. You will not be—” the alien cut himself off, and then finished, “Upset.”
Whatever Rychor’s—or the attendant’s—intentions, the omission of the bothersome word “distressing” was more distressing to her than anything else they’d done. Could they read herthoughts?
Her neck was getting tired, but still she strained to look at what they were doing. An attendant moved something beneath her head to support her neck.
“Oh no, I don’t—” she began. He looked down at her. “It is a test. Some humans are pleasured by watching.”
“Uh… no, not me,” Sonya said quickly, though she faltered a little even in her own mind. A twist of angsty pleasure wormed in her lower abdomen, causing the attendants to exchange a look and one of them to press the back of his neck. She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes.
In response to whatever was exchanged then, the attendant at her head gently placed his hands on her head, rotating it back to the center and tipping it so that she was looking down at what they were doing to her. She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut, though curiosity burned inside her, and an odd desire made herwantto watch, or maybe… be forced to watch.
As if reading her mind, the attendant at her head moved his fingers gently from her temple toward the corner of her eyes. He stroked her skin gently, and then pulled it slowly toward the sides of her face. The motion was benign, not sensual, but as her eyelids were forced to crack open and she was made to watch the exam in detail, her humiliation deepened, along with her arousal.
The aliens seemed perceptive to her responses. Not the things she said or the way she tried to shield herself from humiliation, but herrealresponses. Deep in her core, where her lust really lived. When a cold bloom of arousal spread through her lower abdomen and throbbed in her pussy, they knew.
They held up various devices for her to see. If her pulse quickened in fear, and a throb of sexual desire followed it, they applied the device to her.
Some were long, thin wires that caused mild discomfort before initiating a deep, interior sensation that made her writhe within her own skin. Vibrations throbbed from larger instruments and drove her wild, heat and cold made her shiver with delight. Each procedure took her very close to a point of pain that she feared reaching, but then subsided just as she reached a pleasurable discomfort.
Some tests seemed purely medical in nature. They went on and on, and she was forced to watch them, which only added to her humiliation.
At last, they retrieved all the instruments and the floating tray was pushed away by one of the attendants. The one holding her head relaxed his grip on her temples, and she closed her eyes.
“You will now be fed a series of images through a cerebral imager,” the attendant at the foot of the platform said, adjusting the speculum, which remained inside her. “Your biophysical reactions will be measured. Simply relax and react to the stimuli naturally for best results.”
She didn’t have time to be alarmed, because her mind was instantly hijacked. There was no other word for it: images and sensations filled her head, as if they were real. Her eyes flew open, because the experience was shocking, and the images persisted over her own vision, as though the two were laid over each other. Sounds seemed to generate in her ears, but like the images, they had an unusual quality, like they came from within and not outside of her body.
