Chapter 1

I lightly stroke the cheek of the young woman I am standing over. My beautiful Maimoona—Moona, as she likes to be called—the daughter of an old friend, and a young woman I had come to care for deeply since the time she had unexpectedly appeared on my doorstep a few short weeks ago. She is bound to the massage table, sweating and heaving, after experiencing her fifteenth consecutive orgasm since we started.

I peer over at my lovely assistant, and Moona’s lover, Jessica. Jessica is clad in a long, white lab coat for the occasion, and is holding her two-in-one laptop in tablet mode. She’s clutching the stylus in a white-knuckle grip, and jotting notes with wavering eyes.

“Fifteen?” I mouth in her direction.

Jessica nods slowly, and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, before turning her eyes back to the tablet. I can see she’s fidgeting a little, and her pupils seem awfully large considering that the all the lights are on. If I had to guess, I’d say Jessica was in a bit of a state, too, though nothing like young Moona on the table.

I turn to Moona. The last couple orgasms sounded as if they might have been difficult to say the least, but she still has her tennis ball clutched in a death-grip, letting me know she’s not ready to give in. I smooth back some of the sweat-soaked hair that is plastered to her forehead, as I move my lips close to the side of her head. I speak slowly so that she will have a better chance of understanding me in her current state.

“The procedure is almost finalized, Earth girl,” I say, trying to work a little mad scientist into my voice and still remain clear. “Soon we will have harvested all of the orgasms we need and you will be allowed to recharge. Until then, only five more to go, my pretty.”

I even give a little maniacal laugh at the end of my speech for added effect.

Moona moans, and tries in vain to move, but she remains held fast by the crisscrossing spider web of ropes running along the entire length of her body. Her voice is muffled by her balled up panties I had placed in her mouth at the beginning of our adventure—her idea.

It sounds a little like Moona might be trying to say something, so I reach down to tug again at the tennis ball she holds in her left hand, because that’s the only way she has to communicate. She squeezes the ball hard, refusing to release it. With that, I know she is still alright, and that her protests were all part of the elaborate game we had constructed for this session.

If she had dropped the ball at any time, I would have immediately removed the panties from her mouth, so that we could discuss what was wrong. And if the situation warranted immediate action, I had a pair of blunt-nosed medical shears on a nearby table to cut away the ropes. But as it was, she seemed content. Well, as content as can be expected for a poor, unfortunate Earth girl ensnared, and slowly being drained of her life force through the inducement of multiple consecutive orgasms.

“Five more, little Earth girl.” I pick up the vibrating Magic Wand again and flip the power switch. I select the high setting and press firmly between her legs. I figure there’s no chance I’m going to squeeze five more out of her any other way. And this was her fantasy after all—being abducted by aliens bent on harvesting her orgasms to sell to the highest bidder on their otherwise pleasureless planet—and she deserved to have them all be screamers.

“Come for me, little Earth girl,” I said. “Come for me and replenish our reserves with your orgasmic energies.”

I push the pulsing rounded head of the vibrating toy hard against her glistening crotch, and Moona lets out a low moan that increases in volume the harder I press. I watch her legs twitching as much as the ropes will allow, heels pounding on the table. I wonder what it must feel like for her, if there was any pleasure left or if this was now simply a matter of wanting to finish the journey she had started without giving up.

With my eyes on the tennis ball, I move the vibrating wand slowly upward, ever closer to her overstimulated clitoris. Even without looking, I know I have found the spot, because Moona’s long, low moans quickly transform into short, sharp shrieks. She begins thrashing and shaking with abandon. I know she is coming, and the contortions of her face let me know it is a perverse mixture of pleasure and pain for her.