Sinaya's Journey

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A sex-crazed doctor is forced to perform her duties.
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Her name used to be Dr. Sinaya Martin. She used to be able to give medical care, diagnose diseases, and do all the duties expected of a medical professional. Four men looked down at her as she slept, drugged into a coma. Each remembered the feel of her sleek body, the sound of her moans of helpless passion, and felt a tug at their groins even as their stomachs dropped. They were stranded in space, and the only one of them with any medical knowledge was now a hopeless sex addict after a brush with something... alien. They alternated asking questions, but none had any answers.

"Can we fix her?"

"Fix her? Is she broken?"

"Drugs helped before..."

"She's the doctor. Do you know what to give her?"

"Do we want to fix her?"

"Who's gonna be the doctor then?"

"Can we keep her like that and have her be our doctor too?"

"If you need to be worked on, do you want her drugged up or sex-crazy?"

They stood in silence after a while. The captain was calculating their need for a doctor against the trouble of one lust-maddened woman and four men alone in the confines of a spaceship. They had their mission, which would hopefully occupy them enough to keep them from fighting over Sinaya (though she had demonstrated that one man alone could not feed her addiction), but they needed a doctor who was ready quickly, not one who had to be woken from a coma and immediately brought to orgasm to clear her head, or have the lust dulled with drugs while she worked. If they tried to keep her awake, however, he didn't even know what she might do, or what measures they would have to take to keep her under control. Ultimately, there was no way to make the decision, so he told them that she would remain unconscious for the time being until he could think of a solution, and God help any of them if they had any sort of emergency.

The interplanetary gate was being set up on schedule, but each passing day was a risk that there could be an accident requiring immediate attention, and the relatively safe tasks were all but exhausted. Also, each day increased the chance that one of them would attempt to wake the good doctor and take advantage of her state, before a solution was found.

Captain Roening struck up a conversation with David Warren, the engineer, Rick Fedaye, the computer technician, and Gavin Harris, the security chief, one after the other, each out of hearing of the others on the fifth day since the ship had stopped. He specified some things he needed from each, and swore them to secrecy, all of them unaware of the others' involvement.

The interior of the Selene had a sort of soft-edged, fuzzy quality when Sinaya first opened her eyes. She couldn't remember anything at first, not her name, not her mission, not the reason behind the heat rising in her groin. She gradually became aware of the need for pleasure, and her hand began to stray towards her clitoris almost of its own accord. Cold, unyielding metal stopped her fingers in their quest. Confused, she glanced down to see that a metallic garment covered her like a pair of panties, preventing any access to her private parts. She could not even snake a single finger inside, trying on both the left and right sides. Growing frustrated, she finally looked around and saw that she wasn't alone.

"Doctor Martin, good of you to join me."

The captain kept his tone professional, reminiscent of their relationship prior to the orgy in which she had seduced the entire crew one after the other. He could not deny the lust rising in him, though. It was inevitable, with him in total control of a woman who was wearing nothing but a chastity belt and a doctor's lab coat, with lust, embarrassment, and rage fighting for dominance on her face. He thought of the special functions that he had had incorporated into the design of that device, and how he would soon be demonstrating them, and his arousal quickly doubled. Could he convince her that this was merely a professional necessity? Would it matter?

"You seem confused. I assure you, there is sense in this."

Sinaya's hands were rubbing all over the belt now, finding that it was equally immovable in the back as well, but also appeared that it could open at the critical points. She looked at Roening quizzically.

"That belt is to keep you under control, because we need you as a doctor. None of us knew if you would still be... the same when you woke up, so I put this on you. If you are still, uh, incapacitated then we'll know in a few minutes, and the belt will stay on."

Sinaya listened, but her mind was only on getting the belt off and finding something, anything to fill the emptiness between her legs while she rubbed herself to orgasm. She realized that was exactly what Roening was expecting, and showing it would make him keep the belt on. She looked him in the face and tried, simultaneously, to seduce him and convince him that she was not attempting to suppress an inferno of desire welling up inside her.

Roening returned her stare, seeing the desire she was trying to hide, and trying to hide his own. He resisted the urge to lick his lips as her dark skin flushed darker and began to glisten with sweat from the effort of keeping her hands still. Her face appeared impassive, but her black-pearl eyes were burning with arousal and anger, and she was still trying to inspire a similar lust in him without betraying what she wanted. Minutes passed, and without any relief or anything to distract her, Sinaya was nearly panting. She spoke for the first time, struggling to keep the huskiness of extreme lust out of her voice.

"What happens to me if I can't control myself?"

Roening smiled, and began walking towards her, knowing that his closer presence would strain her control even more.

"The belt stays on. We take care of your need enough to keep you able to work as a doctor when we need you, and I suppose we'll take care of our own needs as well... unless you object to being used that way...?"

She knew she should feel angry, but what she felt was a nearly physical pang of desire pulsing through her body when he said words like "need" and "used" with special emphasis.

"How are you going to take care of your needs with this belt on?" she asked in a shaky voice.

Roening's smile became a grin, and he held up an electronic device as he explained some of the features Warren had installed.

"This remote control opens the slots on the front and back, as well as some other functions. To use it, I must have my thumb on this scanner, which makes sure that it is my thumbprint to keep anyone but me from using it."

"I suppose it would be in my best interest to get on your good side, then."

Sinaya could no longer hide the heat building inside her. She dropped to her knees as she spoke and began stroking Roening's erection through his pants while undoing the clasp that would free it.

"Tell me more about these 'features,' captain."

Roening groaned at her attention and continued.

"There is a vibrator built into the belt, with adjustable intensity. We will use the lower intensity to provide you with the constant low-level stimulation you need to perform your duties... the higher intensity can probably bring you to orgasm by itself. This will give us a system of rewards to help keep your behavior in line."

He felt her lips close around the head of his penis as he finished talking, then he found himself hard-put to keep his balance as she bobbed her head vigorously up and down the length of his shaft, demonstrating an enthusiasm he had never before encountered. He reached down and took hold of one of her breasts, roughly pulling on it to yank her mouth more forcefully onto his manhood. The treatment made her moan in pleasure, reveling in being used. He thought of turning on the vibrating function to bring her pleasure as well, but realized she would perform with or without it. Instead, he spoke to her as he had never spoke to a lover before, understanding at last what it meant to have a pleasure-slave.

"Do you want to cum, you greedy bitch?"

Sinaya grunted affirmatively, without stopping her aggressive attempts to bring him to climax.

"And what reason do I have to make you cum?"

She let out a despairing moan, but kept up with her efforts. The captain decided to demonstrate another of the belt's functions. He stopped mauling her exquisite breast long enough to turn a knob on the control. Sinaya felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her clitoris, somewhere between pleasure and pain, that caused every muscle of her midsection to spasm. It was like an orgasm, but without relief or pleasure. She began a series of muffled screams as the sparks of electricity continued to shock her every second, but still kept giving the captain oral attention. The sound and feel of her screams put him over the edge, and he gripped her hair tightly to hold himself in her throat as he shot his seed. Even as the semen pumped down her throat in a series of strong spurts, she kept running her tongue up and down his shaft while the electricity ravaged her body. Roening pulled out of her dripping mouth and caught his breath for several seconds, while Sinaya crumpled to the floor, overcome by the continuing shocks. When the captain finally stopped them, the heat returned with a vengeance, the pseudo-stimulation only making her more desperate for true relief. She writhed on the floor, her lab coat open, her hands roaming from tweaking her small dark nipples down to her crotch to futilely try to find a way to reach her swollen clit and then back again, while her legs opened and closed uncontrollably. Roening considered opening the small door to let her masturbate herself while he watched, but decided to test out the vibrator on the belt.

The vibrations started off very weak, but Sinaya's reaction was immediate as she clenched her legs together and played with her nipples, moaning softly. Roening slowly increased the intensity of the vibrations, studying her reactions while telling her more of her fate.

"We have a room prepared for you, where Security Chief Harris has constructed secure restraints for when we don't need you and can't afford to supervise you. The shocks can be made ten times worse than the ones you felt, likely enough to cause you to fall to the ground from a single jolt. That would only be used if you become a danger to yourself or us. I will hold this control to keep any of the rest of the crew from abusing you, though I will allow them to use your body, and I will try to arrange for you to be satisfied enough to make this bearable to you."

The vibrations had become very strong, and the matter-of-fact way that Roening described how she would be used as a sex-slave pushed her excitement over the edge and led to her climaxing loudly. It was a long, drawn-out orgasm, a testament to the torturous process that had built up to it. As he lowered the vibrations, the captain turned on the electricity again, shocking her muscles into responding further and artificially extending the pulses of the orgasm. Sinaya collapsed, completely exhausted.

Over the next few days, the crew fell into a routine. Sinaya would wake up from the vibrator being turned on to full power and brought to climax, having spent the night with it on the lowest possible setting, the only way she could actually sleep. She would then be released from her wrist restraints and would orally service any of the crew who wanted their morning erections taken care of, usually at least two of them and often all four. Then the openings on the chastity belt would be opened and she would have a few minutes to rest or pleasure herself. At breakfast, a combination of the lowest vibrations and the lightest shocks would allow them all to eat uninterrupted. After breakfast she would either be left bent over with her neck and wrists clamped in a metal stock fashioned from her exam table with both openings available, or the captain would take the time to play with her alone, depending on his work schedule. His favorite game was to restrain her arms behind her with handcuffs and have her straddle him while he alternately turned on the jolts of electricity and the vibrations, using those two tools to control the speed with which she brought herself up and down on his manhood and the clenching of her muscles. He found it most pleasant to watch her pretty face contort with mixed pleasure and pain, but he also did it with her facing away so that he could take her anally. She seemed to be able to climax easily from penetration in either orifice, especially since most of the stimulation was provided by the vibrator. After working hours, she was made available to any of the four men who wanted to play with her more, usually with more focus on bringing her orgasms, with the aim being to exhaust her to the point of being able to sleep. The captain found himself with less and less to do; he had the powerful disciplinary tool of being able to allow or disallow sex to any of the crew members. More and more, his days involved only sex with Sinaya and no actual work. The mission was coming along fine without any more need for an authority figure.

Roening had always been a self-assured, confident leader, but he had only just discovered that the same authoritative nature that had recommended him for his current position was also hard-wired to his sexual preferences. He had spent his whole life trying to simultaneously prove he was better than others, while avoiding and downplaying the reputation for arrogance and racism that is often associated with German ancestry. Here he was, though, sexually dominating a dark-skinned woman, and he could not deny that that detail of her heritage increased his pleasure. Out in the depths of space, beyond any authority higher than his own, he felt no guilt over something others would call racist. A court of law would probably call it rape, criminal misuse of authority, and wrongful imprisonment, but he wouldn't have done any of it if he was not beyond the reach of all help. If they didn't need a doctor, she could have stayed comatose, if she wasn't the only doctor, she could have got some sort of treatment, and back in the peaceful confines of civilization, there were clinics for sex addicts. He knew what he did would be judged as immoral, but he also knew he had to do it, and there was nothing wrong with enjoying his duties. Besides, he hadn't chosen her because he thought she would make a more appropriate sex-slave than a light-skinned woman. In fact, every person on the Selene was selected by a board with no input from him. The Global Collective Government had searched the far corners of the Earth to put together this crew, and the physical attractiveness and/or skin color of the doctor had no special bearing on her selection. Yet, he couldn't deny the feeling of power that was nearly as strong as the physical sensations when he was with her.

It went on that way for weeks, until Roening could no longer think of any new perversion to subject her to. He began to approach their sexual sessions as a scientific experiment, keeping track of her responses, reactions, and orgasmic potential. He took to measuring her clitoris to gauge her arousal, timed and counted her orgasms, and made her perform sexual and non-sexual tasks to see what combinations of stimulation and deprivation left her most able to function. Her chastity belt needed to be periodically cleaned, as she was constantly dripping the juices of her arousal no matter whether she was deprived for days or had just finished a screaming orgasm. He had it modified to include sensors as well, so that her climaxes could be documented, with a general idea of length, number, and relative strength. The mission had all but faded from his mind. He got up in the morning thinking only of exploring the limits of Sinaya's body and caring nothing for the limits of space.

She stood, bent over the steel table that had been converted from a doctor's exam table to a sort of bondage device, though currently she was being examined. Because the chastity belt was off, her neck and wrists were locked into an apparatus like a medieval stock, with her feet cuffed far apart to opposite legs of the table. The only movement she could make was a slight writhing of her hips, and she was doing exactly that. After so long with her womanhood clutched in the tight embrace of stainless steel, it was uncomfortable to have nothing but a slight breeze touching her down there. So she bucked her hips helplessly, trying to bring her clitoris in contact with something. The doctor... no she was the doctor... the captain was going to measure her clitoris soon, so at least the measuring device would touch her then. She was confused because she had been left in her cell without relief for two days, and the captain had started wearing her coat during these sessions. The smell of her needy vagina reached her nose, both increasing her arousal and creating the feeling that she should be embarrassed. It was pungent after being confined for so long, and in her previous life, when she controlled her sex and not the other way around, she would have been ashamed to have anyone see her so unhygienic. Now, she had to rely on doctor... no captain Roening to clean her private areas, because if left to do it herself, she would only rub herself to orgasm after orgasm until her fingers or clitoris were numb.

Roening noticed her heady scent as soon as he returned with the micrometer. The smell of an aroused woman had never been offensive to him before, and though it was a stronger musk than he had encountered in his life before leaving Earth, he thought of the circumstances, created by him, that had resulted in such a concentration, and it made him smile. In fact, as he bent to watch her twitching sexual organs for a moment, he inhaled deeply, feeling the pheromones from her body course through his blood and increase his own desire. He made a mental note to study the effects of her secretions on himself and her, but today's experiment was already decided.

Two days before, he had had her tied to the table in exactly the same way, also after two days of deprivation. He had measured the length of her overly swollen clitoris with the micrometer, and had used a voltmeter to test the conductivity of her flesh. He theorized that higher conductivity meant a higher level of blood flow, in turn an indicator of arousal, but he didn't really know. He did see it vary somewhat, although differences in the visible engorgement of her clitoris were far more indicative and easier to measure. He had assigned a scale, numbers from one to ten, based on the lowest and highest numbers he had seen. Although not a scientist, he recognized that having no "normal" woman to compare her to was a detriment to his experiments, but he was at least finding out how she responded to different treatment. So he had measured her, and unsurprisingly found her arousal maximized, according to his scale. Even if she was completely satisfied, she reached her maximum again within twenty-four hours. She had reported actual physical pain at that level, and he could see her visible distress at the moment. Two days ago, he had thrust into her from behind, remaining in place while she eagerly bucked her hips. He had used a stopwatch to mark her first orgasm at 30 seconds, then pulled out to measure her tension again. She was at eighty-five percent of when he first measured her. He thrust in again, this time orgasming with her at two minutes, and measuring her dripping clitoris at sixty percent. He had then stepped around to the front of the table to have her use her mouth to make him fully hard again. This cycle had continued until her arousal faded enough to make it impossible for her to climax without additional manipulation, which took around an hour, six orgasms for her, three for him, and the tension in her clitoris measuring around thirty percent. He had put the chastity belt on her at that point and ran the vibrator at maximum until she orgasmed three more times and collapsed within her restraints, whereupon it was removed again so he could confirm that her arousal had diminished to its minimum. After that, she had woken in her cell/room with the belt firmly in place and it had been a long two days waiting for the experiment's conclusion. Roening intended to repeat the process, but see what difference it made with ice being carefully applied to her sexual organs in between orgasms. The thought had left him nearly constantly aroused the whole two days, though it was nothing next to what she felt. Even so, it was a legitimate curiosity that drove him, a need to see if there was a better way to control her rampant sexual needs in case they needed her to function normally. He had already found that low level shocks killed her desire until they stopped, after which the need returned even worse than before, but she was only able to perform simple tasks with such a constant distraction. Likewise, indulging her wants would eventually get rid of all the tension, but she would be exhausted in the process. Perhaps the ice would work, he thought, but either way, the thought of putting ice on a helplessly bound woman's genitals was giving him a painfully intense erection.

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