The chest she mentioned her mother might deliver was also in the bedroom, the lock was keyed to either my or Fiona’s implants, and it had trays inside that expanded when opening it. It was highly organized and included quite a few things I hadn’t put on the list, which worked for me.

  By the time the tour was done, we were launching and heading out to the FTL line, only twenty minutes later than our original departure time.

  Five long days alone with no one but Fiona for company, things were bound to get a little crazy.

  Given our late lunch and it being early evening, and our workouts and swimming time being scheduled for mornings and early afternoons, she didn’t have much trouble seducing me into taking her straight to bed. Really just standing there did it for her, especially with the fight, risk of death, and adrenaline crash. There was nothing quite like crazy and wanton life-affirming sex.

  The next morning started out like the last, but as soon as I woke up I took control away from her. It was domination day, so I grabbed her hair at the sides of her head and started to work her up and down my cock. Her eyes were burning with lust and excitement as I forcefully moved her tight sucking lips up and down my cock.

  She seemed to really enjoy it, so I took it up a notch and started to thrust up as I pushed her head down, knocking at the back of her throat and making her gag slightly with each and every thrust. Her eyes were determined and her tongue nimble as she sucked and worked for my pleasure. Another thumbs up through eye contact, so I started to hold her down.

  “Swallow, baby,” I ordered her, and then grunted as she took me into her throat for the first time.

  I held her there watching her carefully, then pulled her up so she could take a breath, and started to fuck her face a little harder, and she not only took it but learned quickly how to relax and swallow so I wouldn’t gag her with every stroke, which also made it better for me.

  Then I was draining my balls into the hot wet paradise of her mouth. Her throat moving rhythmically to swallow with each and every pulse.

  She giggled as she rolled off of me and panted to catch her breath.

  I asked, “So?”

  She bit her lip, “I liked it. It thrilled me to be out of control and have no choice but to pleasure you with my mouth. I didn’t like it best I don’t think, not for blow jobs, I think I prefer to be in charge of your pleasure and the pace, but I like it enough that you can do that whenever you want. I mean, I’m hot and needy right now, so it really works.”

  I kissed her lingeringly, sweetly, then manhandled her roughly into the doggie style position and took her with authority. That she loved, far more than just being submissive to my gentle guidance. Save blow jobs, which even that she’d liked, she preferred and got off hard at being physically dominated through manhandling. Throughout the day I also learned she loved to be held down, to feel trapped, and to have her arms pinned so she was denied the joy of touching me during sex. That really all set her off.

  So basic physical domination was an overall win, almost by a landslide and it was her current favorite as far as basic sex. I didn’t consider any of that to be fetish or kink territory, rough insistent sex was kind of normal, I was fairly sure.

  Then we did our daily workout, sparring, had breakfast and a shower, then went swimming.

  When we were drying off, I took the opportunity to take Deidra’s advice for the first time, and forcefully pinned Fiona against the wall, ripped down her bikini bottom, and fingered her furiously to orgasm while looking sternly into her shocked and wild eyes. She’d really liked that, and I think I even confused her when I didn’t take my pleasure. I just sucked my fingers clean of her satiation while staring into her shocked and pleasure addled eyes, then went back to drying off, like nothing had even happened. I didn’t even need her input, I knew she’d loved it and it drove her crazy.

  The basics of verbal domination, no shaming, just orders, clearly wasn’t her thing when I introduced it later that morning. She’d followed my orders and instructions, quite enthusiastically at first, but it didn’t do anything for her really, and that was more than fine. Her exuberance had been about trying something new, not about what we were doing.

  No, the difference was obvious, between ordering her to her knees, or grabbing her hair and forcing her to her knees. The former she was just happy to have my dick in her mouth, the latter had her breathlessly panting for my cum. There was no doubt about it, that verbal domination was a dud, and it wouldn’t become a part of our sex life at all.

  Our marathon after dinner was a mélange of everything she loved so far. Forceful, gentle, all with me in charge. The next day would start the truly kinky things.

  Sex wasn’t all we did, I was holding her and caressing her constantly, and we were getting to know each other over meals. She was also a decent martial artist, her body very toned and in shape, though it was impossible to see at rest. Her supple young body looked soft without extra padding when she was at rest. She was a little stronger than the average female as a half-nymph, maybe as strong as a man who didn’t work out.

  Clearly, earth magic was her strength in a fight, but knowing how to fight could save her long enough to bring that magic to bear, so our martial arts sparring also became training sessions for her, which she enjoyed.

  We were in our own world those first five days, and I had to say she was a hell of a woman. On the shallow side she had it all tied up, gorgeous beyond belief, hot little body, loved to fuck constantly, and was even a master chef in the kitchen. On the deep side she was intelligent, exuberant about life, as interested in me as I was in her, and a master at manipulation I was learning. It wasn’t hard for her to drive me crazy and make me take her, even if I knew she was doing it. It wasn’t manipulation with dark intentions, on the contrary I enjoyed the sparring aspect of it, and it made her my equal despite her easy nature when it came to sex.

  Nymphs literally couldn’t use sex as a counterweight to the men in their lives like human women did, at least not by withholding it. At least twice a day I was the one pulling her up short that way, to make sure she learned to control her appetites and enjoy them, not to let her appetites control her.

  I’m going to shorthand the next four days of experiments on the rest of our five-day trip to avoid overly bogging down this account with all the sex I was having with Fiona. Nymph, a true nymphomaniac, and it was her time to discover that aspect of herself. Not that I thought for a second that she’d slowdown in the sex department afterwards.

  Anal day on the second day was a success across the board. I suspected Nymphs were just built for sex by their very natures, so were natural three-hole enthusiasts, as opposed to human females who only rarely took physical pleasure in the act. She got real pleasure from it, alone. Each step had her more enthusiastic for the next, and by the time I was taking her in the ass with my cock, she was cumming constantly for me. The last step was a no-brainer, DP, and when I added a thick vibrator to her pussy she passed out from the orgasms and woke up in a dreamy haze of bliss about ten seconds after that.

  The third day was a partial success. The masochism day. She liked a hard spanking during sex. Spanking outside of sex looked like a failure at first, as she was frustratingly unable to go over, but after I pushed her over with my fingertips on her sex she’d told me it was worth the initial frustration as the powerful orgasm at the end of it mixed with the stinging and throbbing pain. That was the limits of her enjoyment of pain however, she hated having her tits mauled or spanked. So strictly spanking, but not necessarily with my hands. She seemed to enjoy the paddle, rod, and riding crop well enough too.

  The fourth day was pathetically short in experimentation, and we went back to what she liked the rest of that day. Shaming and humiliation were not her thing, at least not verbally. Just like verbal domination, but it fell even flatter and was a total turn off for her. I say verbally because there was an aspect of shaming in the act of passive and forced exhibitionism, and if she was anything like her mother, I believed she would love that part. I couldn’t be sure until we tried it that first day on the station. But yeah, total dud, and I was glad of it. I didn’t really like calling her dirty or degrading pet names either.

  But we’d had to try, guiding her through her self-discovery wasn’t about me or my kinks, it was about finding and defining hers as she gained mastery and control over those urges. That meant leaving nothing to question and trying it all at least once, no matter how distasteful I found some of it.

  The fifth and last day was another total win, bondage. She loved the feeling of being helpless and held down, and that was magnified further by being tied down, cuffed, gagged, and used. It was also a convenient time to explore an aspect of domination we hadn’t yet, which was orgasm denial. She fought it at first, my stern orders not to cum, and I’d had to give her some firm swats and glares to even get her to try it. She did it, and really seemed to not like it, until an hour later when I finally gave her permission to cum. She came like a freight train and passed out again, just like she did for post spanking orgasms.

  Orgasm denial was also not so incidentally, a way to work on and increase her control over her nymphomaniac instincts. If she could deny her own orgasms while I spanked and fucked her while she was tied up, then she could deny herself of sex when it was important to do so.

  She’d also never once that five days, as she’d promised me, uttered the word applesauce. She trusted me, and at the end of that five days our relationship was growing intense. I wasn’t just protective of her for shallow reasons anymore, I was growing to care for her deeply.

  Control was something even I was struggling with at times. She was just too tempting, and I could never get enough of her. I wasn’t sure who was looking more forward to exhibitionism day when I showed her off at the station.

  Regardless, that morning I dressed her in a short mini-skirt and no panties, up top she had on a skintight halter top that was basically a band going around her breasts, with two thin shoulder straps. She was also obviously not wearing a bra. I mean, her delicate pink nipples were big, even when not tightened with arousal, and the nipple bumps were painfully obvious on the pink halter top. It also showed off her bared stomach and half her B cup cleavage. No underwear or bra, small shirt and short skirt, the only other article of clothing she had was black calf high boots with four-inch stiletto heels.

  She said softly, “I’m excited, and nervous. I’ve never been less than properly and conservatively dressed in public before. Showing my body off in these clothes… well I don’t know.”

  I nodded, “We’re about to find out, and if you don’t like it we’ll come right back. If you do, we’ll arrange for you to flash your pussy at a stranger at a coffee house or something.”

  She giggled nervously, her eyes bright, “Right. How do you feel about it? I’m also not sure the progression completely works for this category.”

  I thought that through, trying to feel it out, “I’m honestly not sure. I’d lose it if another man touched you or fucked you, baby. But seeing you like this, hanging on me? I’m just not sure. A part of me wants to protect you from it, dress you properly, the protectively possessive side of me. There’s another part of me that wouldn’t mind showing you off, getting you hot, and taking you knowing they can never have it.”

  She bit her lip, “Okay, well only one way to find out.”

  “You said the progression might be off?”

  She shrugged, “My mother never dresses like a slut in public, nor exposes herself accidentally on purpose. But she loves cumming in public. The risk of getting caught, the shame at the idea of being caught, but no one ever notices because of who she’s married to, there’s a thrill in that idea for me too.”

  I frowned, “I’m not sure that’s exhibitionism by definition. If you don’t like being seen and you don’t get worked up by all those men staring at you and objectifying you, then we cancel the entire series. But we can still put an egg in you dressed conservatively, part of a risqué semi-public sex kink, though you really don’t want to be seen or caught, kind of thing. If you really don’t want to be seen, that’s not truly exhibitionism. It’s a kink about the chance of being caught doing wicked things in public.”

  She nodded slowly, “I get that. A separate public based kink. I guess if I do enjoy exhibitionism then we’ll put that one off and actually sneaking in sex in public without being seen, until another day.”

  I nodded, “Fair. If it helps, you look really hot, baby. I’ve also already infiltrated the station’s public monitoring systems, there’ll be no proof of you walking around like a hot and ready slut.”

  She grinned, “Good to know. You take such good care of me, Damien.”

  I kissed her softly, and then caressed her back and hair.

  “Sure about this?”

  She nodded, “Let’s go. I am excited, just really nervous too.”

  We headed for the airlock, and then went into the station.

  The outer docking rings had temporary quarters for rent, for anyone getting a ship overhaul presumably. Or a convenient place for a secret meeting between businesses. But otherwise it was all about the ships being docked. We moved directly toward the center, which had all the shops, bars, clubs, restaurants, sex workers, exotic dancers, and gambling centers.

  She had a hand around my arm, and she was walking very close to me with a confident and sexy swish of her hips. Any nervousness appeared to be gone, in fact she looked entirely bold and thrilled by all the attention she was getting, especially the men and even some of the women who were staring in shock at her huge nipple bumps, sexy toned legs, and some even managed to look at her beautiful face.

  I pretended like it was just a normal day, though I was vigilant in my duties and painfully aware of all the stares. Honestly, it didn’t do anything for me to have my woman looked at, but it wasn’t about me. I consoled myself with the idea that even if exhibitionism was one of her kinks, it was far too risky of one for her to enjoy it often. Not as the next prelate and current duchess of Patience.

  We’d already discussed that very thing over breakfast, and today was the only exhibitionism going on, no matter how it turned out. As far as true exhibitionism I mean, we might play with other things under her conservative clothes, or risk getting caught doing things in semi-public, but no outright showing off her body on purpose, for the shaming thrill of exposing herself to strangers to wind her up for wild sex with me.

  Point being, before I got off on a tangent, was I couldn’t afford to ignore everything around me, so in my vigilance against attack I was noticing everyone who was enjoying the view. Fiona noticed too, and she was absolutely eating it up. The attention was clearly turning her on, and I knew her well enough to know she was enjoying the slight shame of the base thrill in showing off her body. Completely different than verbal shaming which she hated.

  “Let’s get a coffee, Fi.”

  She smirked, “Of course, Damien.”

  “Any shops catch your eye?”

  She nodded, “Let’s hit that club later, after dinner?” she waved at a place called Dreams, “You still haven’t proven to me you can dance.”

  I grinned, “Fair enough, and it’ll be my pleasure.”

  She winked, “As to other places, let’s just tour the options first this morning, then decide. We have three days here, no need to rush.”

  We picked up a couple of coffees, and I pulled her over to a seat in the back of the place and put her in a chair facing the front, then sat next to her and pulled her into my side as I took a sip. Essentially, she was in the perfect position to flash anyone coming through the door.

  She was obviously nervous again, but I could sense the flush of shame and desire after she did it the first time to a man in his thirties, who turned red in the face as he stared for several seconds. Then she did it again twice more, and I could hear her getting breathier and breathier with desire. Her nipples were also at full size, which made her tight shirt beyond lewd in nature.

  She leaned close, and whispered in my ear, “I want you so badly right now. I think I need to be punished for being such a bad girl, and for showing off what’s clearly yours. I totally get why mom enjoys making other men hard now, with innocent hugs and flirts if not in this way. I feel so wicked and hot, I need you, Damien.”

  Okay, at that point I was hard.

  “Control yourself. Enjoy the shame for a while, while we go for a walk around the station’s center. When I finally spank you for being a naughty girl and pound you into submission, it’ll be worth the wait.”

  She panted, then bit her lip with determination, “Anything you say, Damien,” clearly both disappointed and thrilled I was forcing her to put off the pleasure for a while.

  Which is why it shocked her, when my hand slid up her leg and firmly pushed the vibrating egg into her sex. She let out a sweet little pant, then looked at me with wide eyes while I turned it on low and stood up.

  I smirked as I pulled her to her feet, and we continued to drink our coffees as we walked around and window browsed all the options, from normal stores, bars, and clubs to places that catered to all the different vices, though mostly gambling and sex. The egg wasn’t vibrating fast enough to get her off, just fast enough to drive her completely mad with need. I also only left it on a few minutes at a time, and she’d never know when I was going to hit her with it which also drove her crazy with lust.

  Her voice was always sweetly and exuberantly warm, but that morning whenever she spoke she sounded like a breathy and sultry whore. Her nipples were constantly hard, and she was so turned on there were beads of sweat in her cleavage and her eyes were a bit glassy with need. She honestly looked and talked like a hot mess, and everyone noticed that was close enough to hear her voice or take her in, in detail.

  Some stared for a few seconds and moved on. Most looked twice. But it was the ones that stared in shock and obvious attraction, only to look her over with a knowing smirk or disgusted glare on their face, that drove her crazy the most. That got her the most turned on. The ones that judged her even as they enjoyed the view. In short, the ones that shamed her and dismissed her as a trampy slut, even as they couldn’t quite help but look and react to her beauty and body.