Chamber Six

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Almost as soon as the door had slid shut behind the exiting Lieutenant, the remaining officer began to fondle her chest with both hands. The woman on the table did not visibly react, which in a way was quite a same, but given that she was more than a little preoccupied with what was happening between her thighs, I could very easily forgive that lack of response.

It had been a while since I had last witnessed two women being intimate with each other. Then again, this situation could not exactly be considered as "intimate;" if anything, most people would consider it to be "kinky" since restraints and a small sex machine were involved.

Officer Francesca reached to the machine and changed the program. Both vibrators retracted and more lubricant was added to the bound woman. While the thick vibrator had not been completely removed from her body, there was apparently enough of a lack that she squirmed involuntarily, her body attempting to be refilled.

She got her wish, with the relubricated vibrator suddenly being violently forced back inside her. She screamed again, her body rigid as it tried to deal with the unexpected penetration. I could clearly hear the thick vibrator assaulting her from the inside, even though it remained in its fully-embedded position within her, meaning that its power level had been greatly increased.

She screamed again and again, her body practically convulsing on the sturdy table. The myriad straps kept in her position as she spasmed uncontrollably, not truly fighting her bondage but absolutely giving the restraints a thorough workout.

I found that I was stroking myself a bit harder, a bit faster. My breathing was heavier. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my head. A groan escaped my lips, and for just a moment, I closed my eyes, focusing on the sensations radiating outward from my erection.

I opened my eyes again just in time to see the smaller vibrator dipping once again. It had also increased in power, its sound unmistakable, its purple tip visibly shaking rapidly, and when it finally pressed firmly on the bound woman's clitoris, the result was pure bliss. I barely heard the command to reduce the intensity of the spotlight to only ten percent.

When I finally could fully focus on the monitor again, I saw that Officer Francesca had removed all of her clothing. Two naked women were in Chamber Six, one effectively dominating the other. The contrast between them was great: Officer Francesca's prominent height versus the captive's short stature; the short-cut hair as dark as space itself versus the flowing blonde strands of the bound woman; the dark brown eyes filled with lust versus the bright blue eyes filled with carnal need.

After washing away the sweat and giving the screaming and thrashing captive a little more water to drink, Officer Francesca mounted the table and straddled the bound woman's chest. I was curious about what the officer would do, and when she began to openly masturbate, I smiled to myself.

While I cleaned the mess I had made on my stomach and lower chest, I watched, fascinated. One woman was slowly masturbating, seemingly ignoring the plight of the captive beneath her. One woman was being sexually tortured and by now certainly mindlessly close to a climax which she could not achieve, and thus practically unaware of the impending release of the officer above her. It was yet another contrast between these two women, a contrast which served to keep my erection from truly fading, although I knew that I would not be ready for a second round quite yet.

To her credit, Officer Francesca took her time. She was able to practically ignore the frenzied woman between her legs and slowly increase her own arousal. Sometimes she would strum her clitoris. Sometimes she would simply stroke her labia. Sometimes she would dip one or two fingers inside herself. Sometimes her hands would completely retract from her sex and instead caress various parts of her own body. Sometimes she would pinch and tug at a nipple. Through it all, any sounds Officer Francesca made were masked by the screams of the captive.

Another message chime sounded from my left wrist. "I hope you're enjoying this, Captain. It has certainly been a while."

Samantha was right: It had indeed been a while since I had last enjoyed any sexual pleasure. The last time was with her, about four months earlier, just before the declaration of war had been officially made. The fact that she had thought to send me that particular message made me wonder if she had excused herself from the lab to return to her quarters to monitor the events in Chamber Six and also enjoy a few orgasms of her own.

...orgasms which, thanks to her research, the frenzied captive could not achieve for at least four more hours.

Officer Francesca's body began to rock back and forth over the screaming woman. It was clear that she was close to climax. With her eyes clamped shut, she jabbed several fingers as deep inside her as she could reach while her other hand was busy furiously making tiny circles on her clitoris and pressing hard on her mons.

If she made any noise, I could not hear it, but being a professional, she likely was no louder than one of Commander Ghart's pet mice. To my amazement, Officer Francesca was a squirter, her hot lust streaming forward just enough to bathe the captive's face and momentarily interrupt the screams. The way her body shook visibly afterward, it was clear that such a strong and copious release was an intense experience for her, and that only her professionalism gave her the strength and the presence of mind to dismount the table and collapse on the floor so she would not potentially endanger the woman with the information we needed to extract.

I was just about to disengage the feed from Chamber Six when I heard another coherent word from the captive:

"Please!!!"

Standing to finish my cleaning, I smiled to myself. It had taken roughly an hour to get to this point, to the point where the captive was begging. This was the greatest progress we had made since she had been brought to the ship.

"'Please' what?" Samantha's voice filled the chamber with the sound of a giant speaking in a utility closet.

"INEEDTOCUM!!!!!"

"No."

And thus the orgasm denial truly began in earnest. Even if the captive did not provide the information within the next three hours or so before the first extension of the suppression, it would be a very interesting and entertaining and fulfilling time indeed. But if we needed to perpetuate the suppression, I wondered just how well the captive's mind would handle being denied an orgasm despite constant stimulation for an entire ship's day...