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"Here." Rhys didn't let up, calling him over, "there's something I've wanted to run past you."
The distaste was immediate as Ethan approached and Rhys turned his monitor towards him, porn openly playing on the display. A blonde woman writhed in pleasure against the sheets, the cock of an otherwise unseen man lubricated and pistoning inside her ass, wonderfully generous tits jolted with every thrust. Ethan stopped and considered whether it was too late to make an excuse and leave, unconcerned now with sleighting Rhys. However as the camera panned up and revealed the face of Taymont's public health expert, Dr Eleanor Armstrong, the surprise caught him in place.
"Jesus, Rhys, does Nell know you're showing anyone this?"
Armstrong had been the answer to Ethan previously wondering which woman would be the first to be paired with Rhys, and he didn't attempt to hide his unease, finding the show he was being given to be crass at the very best. Just creeping into her 40s, every interaction Ethan had had with Nell had painted her as the picture of professional refinement, so to see her wildly grinding against what he presumed was Rhys' cock was more than a little shocking.
"She came around to the idea eventually."
The answer left enough of an unpleasant sense of ambiguity that Ethan reached forward and hastily turned the screen back away from himself, the smallest hint of anger rising in his voice, "what the fuck do you mean eventually?"
Leaning back in his chair, Rhys held up his hands, as if to prove lack of hostile intent. "Hey now, don't be like that. I just thought that if I were to share you might appreciate the gesture enough to scratch my back in return, if you catch my drift?" The glare Ethan gave pushed him to continue, the light cockney of his accent playing at an apologetic tone. "Nell took asking a few times but once she warmed up to the idea it was all good."
"You really don't make that sound as convincing as you could be."
Rhys levelled his gaze at Ethan and then let out a laugh as he arrived at some sort of insight, although the sound managed to set Ethan even further on edge. "Fuck, oh come on Ethan you're not that slow are you? You do get how this works right? We are literally in their heads," he gestured up towards his own with a finger to illustrate. "Sow enough seeds and what you want starts to become the most gratifying thing in the world. They all knew that when they bonded to us. They enjoy this, all of them. You might not like it but that doesn't make it less true"
Ethan felt hot, anger and guilt and disquiet churning up his insides. He didn't think Rhys was right. His own sense of decency wouldn't let him believe that was what he was doing and he'd convinced himself that everything had to be so much more mutual. He refused to accept that women like Nia and Evie would just give up their minds to him like that, chose to think this almost certainly said more about the underlying misogyny of men like Rhys than the reality of things...but then the claim was still dancing around the edges of possibility and Ethan's own doubts enough to unsettle him.
"I don't know if I agree but even if I did, so what?" Ethan's tone was decidedly far from won over. "You want me to talk Farah Hassan into getting off on the idea of me trading porn of her with you?"
"Well...I wouldn't put it quite so bluntly."
If Rhys thought that was direct, the next words out of his mouth were as blunt as he could manage. "Go fuck yourself Rhys"
The look on Rhys' face managed to also find anger as Ethan turned from him and Ethan remembered that men like that rarely took rejection, humiliation or even just being told no very well. And so it wasn't a particular surprise when the southerner called after him, looking to twist the knife as Ethan left.
"Fine, forget Hassan. I'd accept Evie instead."
Ethan didn't do rage, but it was all he could manage not to turn back and punch him.
*****
If it hadn't been for the increasingly terse messages from Nia wanting to know where he was, it's likely that Ethan would have taken a much longer walk than the hour-long one he used to try and clear his head. With the disquiet Rhys had brought back up to the surface the idea of going straight to imprint on another woman he'd never met wasn't something he found easy and even as he arrived he still found himself on edge.
It was the first time he'd seen Nia smoking, standing in the hallway outside their honeymoon suite next to an open window, in a half-hearted attempt to keep any fire alarms from going off. She had told him that she only did it when she was stressed, which given the calls he'd missed he didn't exactly blame her for. Neither did she seem to swear outside of the bedroom (where it was near impossible to get her to stop) so the curse she addressed him with only further emphasised her agitation.
"Fuck, Ethan, where were you?" Her expression might have been beyond annoyance, but her tone was laced with as much concern as frustration.
Alongside Nia in the corridor was the project's camerawoman, Sarah, one of the founding members of Lukas' Team Kaminski. The petite brunette was clearly already finding this awkward, removing her glasses and pretending to need to clean them as if it would make her presence less overt.
Ethan sighed and struggled to pick his words, "I'm...just struggling to get my head around a few things. Again. I needed to take a walk and think everything over."
A large part of him had been concerned that seeing Nia might make things worse. He'd let himself dwell for a little too long on the implications of what Rhys had said and how eagerly Nia had picked up on the idea of getting piercings for him. It felt impossible to know where his desires ended and hers began, and he hadn't been able to tell if being around her would just end up driving the guilt home, especially as he had such a small sense of who she was before he met her.
However, while it was guilt he felt looking at her, it wasn't the way he feared. Instead he felt a rush of shame that he might be letting her down right now, a powerful, visceral sense of duty to her that he was failing to live up to. Was that the Gemivax? Or was that just him? Was she in his head as much as he might be in hers?
And if she was, did he even mind?
"You could at least have answered one of my calls, sent a message, anything other than just fucking disappearing for an hour" she replied. Her annoyance showed through again, and given how well she kept control over herself he could only imagine how pissed off she actually was. Seeming to catch the conflict on his face, she stepped in closer and straightened his shirt for him, using the gesture to reign in her own feelings and slip back into control of things. When she next spoke her voice was firm yet sympathetic. "It's understandable to have doubts but whatever caused this, we really do not have time for it right now."
"I know, I know, I'm an idiot," he accepted with a deep edge of self criticism. He closed his eyes and took a breath. "This is all just...running away from me a little again. Maybe we could just take a pause. Let me catch up to where I need to be for this."
It was Nia's turn to sigh. "Ethan, Farah got a dose of Gemivax ninety minutes ago. It's not as simple as just waiting."
He felt an extra bit of weight settle in his stomach, although the statement shouldn't have come as a surprise. Farah Hassan was joining Project Envoy as their on screen talent, the sportswoman-turned-presenter selected as one of the faces of Gemivax, and everything about this encounter had already been painstakingly, repeatedly, negotiated and discussed over the last few days. That included Farah's preferences and the infection risks that meant she was being vaccinated before he ever stepped into the room with her.
The emails and Zoom calls they had communicated in had seemed like a bizarre cross between online dating and the world's most deranged job interview. Her likability shone through in each snatched online encounter they had managed, and her enthusiasm for being part of Project Upstart was palpable. It was even her suggestion that Sarah was here to film things, noting that they should really have good footage of her being vaccinated and imprinting in case they needed to use it. He'd taken a while to be won around to the idea but the result was that everything about this was being carefully choreographed, for both their sakes. From the positions Farah was happy to use, to what she'd be wearing and how she didn't want to be topless on camera. And Ethan had absently fucked it all by leaving her primed for an hour an a half.
"Shit, Nia..." he struggled for words, impressed that he kept managing to find new ways to feel guilty.
"If you're about to apologise then it's not me you owe it to." Nia saw the look he was still wearing like a heavy weight, body language guarded, and did her best to soothe him, a hand slipped into his to give a squeeze with interlocked fingers. She might not have been the softest of presences, but there was something reassuring about the gentle firmness of her conviction as she spoke. "You're a good man Ethan, better than I think you realise, but you're going to have to learn to let go and accept this sooner or later."
"And if I can't?"
She gave one of her knowing smiles, like there was a joke only she was in on. "You will. Because you're my partner, and I'm not going to settle for anything other than your happiness." They kissed, and Ethan found his concerns thawing, although not melting entirely. If this was how Nia Clarke-Mills still was then perhaps worrying about who was in charge of who missed the point entirely?
"It doesn't sound like I'm being given much of a choice does it?"
He felt Nia's hand let go of his, moving instead to rub against the front of his crotch as her eyes gleamed with provocation. He hardened instantly under her touch, as if she knew how to hijack his arousal. "By me? Absolutely not. I need you to go and make sure Ms Hassan is unable to believe how lucky she is to be on my Team Knight."
She gave his dick a final squeeze, and shoved him towards the suite's door where Sarah was waiting. The mousey camera woman forced herself to shake off any lingering awkwardness from the conversation, taking a moment to explain the camera set up and what she needed from him. It essentially boiled down to lie back and don't get in the way of Farah.
Ethan paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and the words Evie had said when they each got their own dose of the vaccine came back to mind.
'Alea Iacta Est'
In this case the die had been cast long before he'd got there, he just didn't know what number it showed yet.
The bedroom was how he'd left it that morning, although a static camera and several lights now crowded the room, directed attentively at the king bed and the woman lying upon it. Farah rested up against the pillows already stripped to the simple black underwear that had been planned out in advance, although her sports bra was pulled up slightly, one hand massaging an exposed breast while another was thrust inside her panties. She hadn't noticed Ethan enter, eyes closed, face rapt with a dreamy expression, the trace of her fingers visible through black fabric slowly curling inside of herself.
The south asian woman had to be at least as tall as Ethan, lean muscle taut with pleasure as she writhed luxuriously on the bed. It was an odd experience to see someone that had previously been distantly familiar now laid out in bare flesh before him, a world of contrasts to the woman who had previously only existed on screens. Every image he'd previously seen of her, her hair had been worn in a neat ponytail, but now it had been pulled free, a cascade in black over the sheets. The tanned, almost over-generous swell of her tits didn't match the picture of her he had in head and he realised how much effort she must have taken to conceal their size and stop them being too much of a focus of people's attention. Nor had cricket's regulations allowed him to realise she had several rings pierced around the edge of both ears. His final surprise was the large tattoo covering the side of one thigh, the stylised head of a lioness staring out at him, framed by the bold lines of an Indian mandala.
Sarah closed the door behind them, and the near nude desi woman on the bed finally realised she wasn't alone. There was a chuckle as Farah opened her eyes, a mixture of horniness and relief as she saw Ethan, continuing to give her cunt several more strokes.
"You really know how to keep a girl waiting, I was beginning to wonder if I was getting stood up." She pried her fingers out of her underwear before he could respond, bringing them to her mouth to suck them clear with a pleased little moan, before sitting up to adjust her bra back into place. "Not that I mind a chance to get warmed up. Fuck, do you have any idea how good this feels?"
"Sorry Farah," Ethan apologised, finding himself another social situation he didn't have a manual for. "This isn't really the best way to make a first impression, huh?"
"Honestly? I've had worse first dates...Please tell me you aren't just going to stand there."
Her hand continued to run absently across the inside of her thigh, finding it hard not to keep touching herself even as she tried to regain a hold on her modesty. Ethan began crossing the room towards her, and she bit her lip in anticipation, squeezing her legs together. Her attention suddenly shifted over Ethan's shoulder, and he was reminded that they weren't alone, Sarah having picked up a second, smaller camera to follow them with.
Farah gave a small, almost absent wave in the camera woman's direction. "Hey again. Sorry again if this gets weird."
"I've filmed worse," Sarah deflected, deadpan, although Ethan (as ever) found it hard to tell if she was being sarcastic. "Pretend I'm not here."
"Easy enough, I'll just imagine I don't have studio lights in my face right now too then," Farah joked back. "And try and be kind to me, I don't really know which is my good side when I'm being fucked silly."
Ethan couldn't help but laugh, impressed by how casually the woman in front of him was attempting to deal with things. And he was grateful, finding her relaxed attitude managing to deflate some of the nervous energy he'd managed to bring with him. Now within reach of Farah, needy hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt.
"You're even cuter in person, but he clothes need to go," she instructed. "I want to see what I'm being given to work with."
He obliged, disrobing as he clambered onto the bed. He remained acutely aware of the camera's presence looming behind him, even knowing that Sarah would be keeping her distance due to the danger Ethan's sexual fluids posed her now she was bonded to Lukas. A lot of the advanced stipulations were as much about him as they were Farah and his initial response to the thought of being filmed like this was one of discomfort, although now they were here he realised he was getting a perverse amount of gratification from the audience. That was a new kink to add to the list.
Farah caught his glance back in the direction of the camera with amusement, given his original reticence during their planning. "You almost look like you might be enjoying this?"
"Warming to the idea, I guess."
She pressed herself up against him, a hand eagerly straying to his crotch as she placed a kiss on his chest. There was another laugh as she deftly stroked him and he grunted in appreciation. "This thing's going to absolutely ruin me."
Straddling him, Farah firmly eased Ethan backwards until he lay looking up at her on the bed. Even this position had been agreed on, the plan for Farah to ride him to completion so that the cameras could easily keep her in frame from above the shoulders. She breathed heavily, seeming to reel lust-drunk on top of him. Watching her chest heave, it was all Ethan could do not to reach up and free her tits, settling for running his touch up her thigh instead, prompting a throaty moan.
Farah shifted her panties to the side, hair trimmed into a thick yet neat strip of dark curls flecked with excitement. It was the unexpected glint of a barbell vertically piercing the hood of her clit however that caused his own arousal to lurch, his cock left impossibly hard at the sight of her.
"You like that," she asked, teasing the metal between the tips of two slick fingers. "My clit used to be this shy little thing until I got it done."
He reached out as she spoke, groping the pleasant heft of her arse without bringing protest and manoeuvred her towards his cock.
Farah continued, delirious enough with the serum in her system that her tongue ran away from her, verbose in her anticipation. "I loved the idea of something no-one else could see, no need to justify to my parents or the public. Loved the acknowledgement of the filthy side of me that was there if someone just bothered to peel back the layers and...oooooh SHIT!"
As Ethan's cock filled her she fell forward. One hand hammered against his chest in an attempt to brace herself as an orgasm rippled through her. Toned thighs clenched and her hips rocked. Hair fell about her face. She swayed against him, fucking steadily yet eagerly through the climax. Moaning, gasping, laughing.
"Oh that's not fair," Farah eventually said, and Ethan wasn't sure if it was for him or for the cameras. Her hips kept bucking, running straight out of one orgasm in pursuit of another ever as she tried to wrestle her hair out of her eyes. "Nothing should be allowed to be that good."
Ethan found himself wavering, knowing that he was meant to lie back and let Sarah get the footage they'd agreed on. But with Farah grinding away on top of him it was all he could do to not drag her down to join him, to pin her beneath him and rut like beasts. He clung on, pawing at sheets, almost scared for his own composure if he let go. As with Evie and Nia couldn't tell how much the serum was clawing at his control and how much was simply a reaction to the goddess sheathed upon him.
It didn't help when Farah let out a frustrated moan and reached for her bra. "Aaah, to hell with the cameras. I want to enjoy this..." Her tits bounced free as she unclasped it, thoughtlessly casting it across the room. Exposed, they were quickly pushed against Ethan, hard dark nipples dragging across his own chest as she leaned in close and kissed him. "Sorry Ethan. I know we had plans but, ugh, I can barely think right now. I don't know if I want to think."
Things felt like they were staggering towards the pornographic. If Sarah had a reaction behind her camera she wasn't showing it, with what Ethan could see of her face a picture of concentration. He marvelled again at the fact he was enjoying the lingering attention, finding an extra layer of spice added to things.
Farah caught him looking, drawing his own face back towards hers, and kissing wildly again, either fighting for attention or putting on a show, or both. "I want her to see you fuck me. Let them all see what you're making me."
Feeling the last of his resolve slip from his fingers he obliged her. With a surge he moved, practically hurling her against the bed as he reversed their positions. He plowed into her from above and her pussy sang. Farah desperately tried to give as good as she got, heavy, needy, a cacophony of kisses and thrusts, grasps and curses. The camera watched and Ethan fucked.
They were both hot and breathless by the time they reached their mutual peak. He'd known from the moment she mounted him that he wouldn't be able to last long and his orgasm built on him with the subtlety of a thunderstorm. It was more than he could do to keep his eyes open, leaning back and releasing inside her, jerking over and over until his head swam with relaxed tension. He had a dim sense that Farah was crying out, but his ears rang and everything narrowed to the heat of her cunt clenching around him.
