Compromised Interests - A Preview

Compromised Interests -- A Preview

b. jaxjack1980

Author's Note: The following story is entirely fictional and comes from the author's imagination and creative efforts only. Any resemblance to real-live people, living or dead, or to any real-life places. businesses, events, or situations are entirely coincidental and do not truly reflect them in any way. This world is a part of my twisted fantasies and thought experiments. I take credit for all mischief and mistakes that reside within it! (Aside from the last couple of lines of text that reference a couple of real-life inspirations/creations.) Any characters engaged in sexual activity are 18 years of age or older. Mature and adult themes explored (see tags)

Chapter One: An Unhealthy Fascination

"... ahhh... ahhhHH... ahHHHH.... AHHHHH.... AHHHHHHHGAWD..." screamed the nearly naked young woman in anguished ecstasy as she finally succumbed to the unrelenting pressure supplied by her lovely body. Vibrant green eyes framed by exquisite lashes rolled into the back of her head as a mane of striking shoulder length silky blonde hair with red highlights (encased in a plain ponytail) whipped up violently, several blue-hued facial and neck veins of varying sizes bulging out from a typically smooth, porcelain ivory surface.

Only now, the usually pristine skin of her face, neck, and a good portion of her upper torso had turned a bright shade of reddish pink as a result of her exertions. Similarly, its smoothness was marred by the aforementioned vein activity along with her body's corresponding muscles straining and clenching in tandem. Paradoxically, these temporary blemishes only seemed to enhance the already appealing woman's loveliness and (sexual) appeal. The contrast of ugliness with beauty made for a striking combo, one highlighting and enhancing the other in perfect harmony. And then in a blink, the wonderful balance was broken, lost to time as a series of overworked systems reached their limits and could not continue any longer, instead they sought to return to a level of rest and recovery; her final wail signaling an end of her current experience, but not an end to her present ordeal.

Feeling completely spent, the woman's head dropped back to rest on the cool, metallic table's surface; her heart-shaped, pale pink lips stayed apart while a small streak of tears streamed from her still clenched, closed eyelids. A slightly smaller, but still detectable trace of wetness also trickled from her aching vagina as taxed, twitching muscles spasmed sympathetically in a reflexive vain attempt to close the enlarged opening still present between her equally exhausted pussy lips. The stubborn gaping of her vaginal walls seemed to reflect her still present state of arousal, her state of unfulfillment, her twisted yearning for more. "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," the words escaped her dry lips, part proclamation, part conflicted plea as she licked them wantonly in a display of complete surrender.

"Excellent, that was a very illuminating trial run. Well done, Becca," a richly, cultured voice broke Becca's brief reverie, followed by some rapid, deliberate, scratching sounds as pen was put to paper. "The new experimental neuromuscular and sexual nerve stimulators worked far better than I could have hoped. I guess I can chalk some of that up to having such a young, healthy specimen to work with," he added with a knowing laugh. "In addition, the improved sensors and probes worked brilliantly together collecting a rather robust set of data," the deep, disembodied voice continued while the subtle clicks of a mousepad could also be heard. "I just need to gather some additional information from your biological responses along with some supporting visual evidence, fill out some demo info, and then we can take a break, okay?"

Realizing that he was actually waiting for her affirmation, Becca took a moment to take a breath, attempting to clear her muddled thoughts and emotions before answering. "Oh-oh-kay," Becca managed to stammer hoarsely, a noticeable lack of conviction in her voice, eyes still shut tightly.

She heard a clattering of wheels before she sensed his presence looming over her. Powerful, latex clad hands gently pried open her eyelids one at a time, revealing each time a plain, dark homely face with unruly white hair tightly packed in an unflattering up-do. A pair of technologically advanced goggles with clear lenses covered a pair of equally dark, inquisitive eyes as they looked down on her prone form. "Please focus on me Becca," the man ordered and as she complied, a low persistent hum emitted from the device accompanied by a slight glimmer crossing across the lenses illuminating a series of incandescent numbers before disappearing.

"That's a good girl, thank you."

She felt an unwelcome, unfamiliar sense of contentment upon earning this faint praise. She usually wasn't one to seek approval, especially from the males in her life. Yet, nothing about her current situation was usual for her, she reasoned to herself.

The rest of the examination proceeded relatively quickly. Eyes and hands travelled down her body, paying particular attention to her breasts, vagina, and anal cavity. Those large, powerful hands teased her nipples, cupped her breasts, and probed both of her openings. Further intrusions by unseen objects seemed intended to take additional measurements of her vaginal and anal status. Becca was prompted to follow a series of humiliating commands to clench her muscles around both sensitive regions and earned hums of approval in the process while stirring her flickering arousal, resulting in a few involuntary groans of pleasure as an unwelcome result.

"Almost done, just need to collect and sample your vaginal secretions before taking your temperature rectally," her clinical tormentor announced after removing the devices from her cavities, causing a feeling of both relief and excitement.

"Oh, oh-kay," Becca repeated, clearly only focusing on earning her freedom and a well-earned reprieve from his clinical foundlings that still had managed to generate an unwelcome response from within her.

The process of collecting her secretions was no less demeaning as several Q-Tip swabs were used to collect specimens from her clitoris and both sides of her vaginal walls. Once finished, the middle-aged man unsheathed his left hand and slipped one gnarled finger inside her vagina while simultaneously slipping a lubricated thermometer in her anal passage. Becca felt her muscles clench involuntarily at the dual intrusion, the pleasing fullness still new to her. After wiggling said finger around, he withdrew it and flicked a tongue out to sample the liquid coating it after pausing to take a deep inhale first.

"Hmmm, that is quite a pleasant aroma and taste, young lady," he remarked. "Yes, you could bottle that and earn yourself a pretty penny," he remarked off-handedly as he wrote down some additional comments. Becca couldn't help but blush at the words. "Sorry, bad joke, just hang tight and let me get those last few pieces of equipment removed from your body before I release you. Again, I appreciate your infinite patience and understanding, tolerating an old fart like me."

Becca soon found herself rewarded with her freedom and given a luxurious, comfortable robe to cover her nude form. She groaned as she stretched her body to work out some kinks from her body and slowly made her way off the table as she covered herself.

A dark hand helped steady her and guided her to an unoccupied chair. "Good, now that we got that out of the way, let's get some basic demographic information gathered before we break for our much-deserved meal."

"Okay," Becca repeated again as she seemed incapable of utilizing any other words, despite the apparent intelligence hiding behind her emerald orbs.

"Okay, Great." her interviewer stated while clapping his hands together with relish. He clicked the side of goggles, reactivating the audio and visual recording devices located within.

"This is Dr. Damian Robinson, the time is 1742 on Friday February 14th, 2025. We are currently situated in my downstairs basement in Eugene, Oregon after successfully completing our first experimental procedure with an individual who will be identified henceforth as subject 113357. I will be collating the following personal information for classification purposes only and it will be later recorded and encrypted in a private secured database for authorized eyes only. Right, let's get started. Please state your full name."

"Rebecca Leigh Johannsen."

"Age?"

"27 years old."

"Race? Ethnicity?"

"Caucasian, Dutch Irish."

"Height, weight, measurements, cup size?"

"5 '7, 135 lbs, 34-26-32, B, sometimes C-cup."

"Occupation? Education level?"

"I'm currently assigned as a junior investigator in the FBI's National Sexual Crimes Task Force. Attended college at Duke University, graduated with honors as a double major in Criminal Psychology and Human Sexuality with a focus on Abnormal/deviant tendencies."

"A girl after my own perverse heart," Damian chuckled drily. Quite an ambitious and accomplished career path, I must say. Must not leave much room for dating or a social life, a damn shame for someone as beautiful looking as yourself."

Becca couldn't help but find herself blushing at the rapid-fire number of compliments the older gentleman was aiming her way. She had always had difficulty accepting praise, fighting with a rather strong case of imposter syndrome growing up with a pair of older, more decorated siblings.

"(Cough!) Right, let's get back on track, Damian said as he picked up on her embarrassment. Number of previous sexual partners? Current relationship status?"

"Four-no-five past sexual partners, Becca corrected quickly. She always initially forgot to include that brief, regrettable fling with a past female senior partner: an older distinguished individual who had taken advantage of her blinding hero worship. God, she had been so naive and gullible back then, she thought to herself. Still, the experience had not been an entirely horrible experience, an interesting real-world application of her academic studies, Becca mused fondly as she recalled their frantic couplings. Suddenly, she realized that she had let her mind wander into dangerous territory as she felt her body heat up again and struggled to get her thoughts back on track.

"My current relationship status? I'm-I'm-I'm..." Becca faltered as she hesitated, uncertainty and regretful anguish marring her lovely features. What was her current relationship status? That was a loaded, complicated question that she found herself having difficulty coming up with an appropriate answer for at the moment, tears threatening to form again, this time for entirely different reasons.

"Hey, it's okay, it's okay. Let's stop and take a break here," Damian said soothingly as he shut off the recordings immediately upon detecting her distress and comforted her. He embraced her in a hug while gently stroking her hair like a parent soothing a troubled child. "Tell you what, I've got a succulent pot roast upstairs with a decent Italian red to pair it with. I think it would be a good idea for the both of us to get some good food, good wine, and just take our minds off things for a while.

Yes, I think that's what we'll do, he concluded by himself. Decision made, Damian pulled Becca's unresisting form from her chair and gently guided her up the stairs. On autopilot, Becca followed Damian mindlessly and soon found herself exiting the door upstairs, Damian's hand gently cupping her well-formed ass directly from behind as they went up.

As the door shut after the pair, Becca's phone, laying atop her folded clothes (FBI issued) along with her shoulder harness and firearm, began ringing.

"You are the best thing... You are the best thing... You are the best thing... to ever happen to me..." continued to play while a familiar smart-mouth red-suited figure appeared on screen making a heart emoji gesture with his hands while an intimately memorized number flashed below it.

(To be continued...?)