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Ryland Grace looked down at his specimen. He was still getting used to his specimen being able to look back. Simon stared up at him with a mix of arousal and trepidation. Grace was used to seeing that. He seemed to inspire that feeling in Simon often.
“Okay, open.” He instructed. The subject complied and Grace used a gloved finger to lift Simon’s top lip away from his teeth, then ran a swab back and forth over his gums. The gloves weren’t strictly necessary, his fingers had been in much messier places in Simon than his mouth, but some habits died hard.
“Now the other.” He directed. Simon turned his head so one cheek was pressed against the sheets below him, and the one with the mutation and scarring was revealed to the bright exam lights overhead. Grace had ordered them specially installed in the bedroom. He wasn’t embarrassed about it. The Eridians didn’t know that normal humans did not require extra bright blue-white lights for their typical sleeping arrangements. Except maybe Rocky. Rocky already knew he was a freak. The alien was too, so Grace trusted he would keep it to himself.
“Hm.” He grunted in annoyance. Simon had forgotten to pull his hair back into a cord before they began like Grace had asked. Shame. He had been behaving well so far, too.
He capped the sample jar containing the first swab, gently brushed the strands away from Simon’s waiting second row of teeth, then reached down to pinch his nipple roughly in retaliation. He held it for several seconds, counting slowly in his head and pinching tighter as the time passed.
Simon shifted beneath him, clearly trying to control his movements and breathe through the unexpected pain. Or maybe he had expected it. Grace had been working hard to train him. He was taking his punishment stoically. Grace liked that.
He nodded, let go, and pulled another swab from the sterilized tray next to the bed. Simon released his shoulders and sank into the mattress. That was pleasing. Grace liked when science came easy to him. He took a similar sample to the first, sliding the swab along Simon’s new set of gums before locking it safely away for future study. He pulled out a third q-tip and Simon’s breath hitched, his stomach muscles jumping as he involuntarily flexed in anticipation. He knew what the third swab meant.
“Hold still.” Grace chided him. Simon was trying, and the slight movement of his breathing wouldn’t bother Grace’s work, but it was fun to watch him try and fight his reflexes so he could please. Grace liked that, too. This swab was longer, the cotton puff on top slightly larger. The other ones would have worked for this purpose, but Grace thought a bit of drama was warranted on occasion. Why not make his test subject squirm a little? Grace liked that the most.
He brought the swab down between where Simon’s cheek parted around the extension of his mouth, but he ignored the sharp teeth poking through and probed deeper. He was careful. There was no need to rush or damage his specimen. Not yet.
He guided the stick further into the opening, reaching through into the main part of Simon’s mouth. He would never be tired of examining the way Simon’s second set of teeth led uninhibited toward the back of his throat. It was erotic seeing something so deep be bared so plainly to his ministrations. He would never be tired of examining Simon, period. He was possessed by the spirit of curiosity. Possessed by the need to understand everything about him and explore. And he was possessive in return over his findings. His biological sample. His Simon. His.
He carefully glided the swab down Simon’s tongue, collecting saliva gently. He was being reasonable. For now. Simon breathed deeply and evenly, keeping his mouth relaxed around Grace’s intrusion. The teeth rose and fell around his hand with each breath, occasionally scraping softly against the flexible material of the gloves. It made Grace shiver in anticipation. He allowed himself to pause and appreciate the minute movements. There was no rush to this work. He could sink in and appreciate every moment. Simon probably wouldn't agree that there wasn’t a rush, he didn’t get his reward until the end. But his mouth was otherwise occupied so he wasn't capable of voicing his opinion. Grace would have punished him for sharing it anyway. Simon would have liked it, but Grace still had a lot of work to do.
Speaking of work. He moved his attention away from the fangs and back to Simon’s throat. Gosh, his beautiful throat. Grace wished he could lick it. That would be a test for another day. He eased the tip further down. Simon’s tongue reflexively came up at the invasion, but was immediately forced back into unnatural relaxation. Grace hummed again, pleased this time.
He gathered enough saliva that he could have been done. He could have retreated and could have been satisfied. He wasn’t. He pressed in more. Moved away from Simon’s pretty pink tongue and swabbed over the delicate skin of his tonsils. Simon’s gag reflex kicked in before he could fight it away. Grace understood. He did.
He doled out punishment anyway. He kept the hand invading Simon’s mouth through his cheek steady as he reached with his other gloved hand down to Simon’s chest. He lightly scratched over the nipple he had battered before as a friendly reminder of what was to come, then moved to the unswollen bud that had been previously neglected. It was the same tantalizing shade as Simon’s tongue. He could make it darker.
He pinched and Simon whimpered. Ryland offered him the grace of not correcting him for the further transgression. When he was sure his subject was compliant again, he released the tender flesh and rubbed in apology. He didn’t like to hurt Simon. He mentally corrected himself, he did like to hurt Simon. And Simon liked it when he did. He just also needed his experiment to be in a state of control. It wouldn’t please him to skew the results after all this work they had put in.
He appreciated the already bruising skin on Simon’s chest, then focused back on his purpose. Time to escalate. He steadied himself and Simon’s jaw with the hand no longer busy with discipline, and pressed the swab deeper. Tears sprang to Simon’s eyes. He kept breathing steadily. Grace liked that a lot. He bet he could get the other man sobbing by the time they were done. He cried so attractively when he was trying not to disrupt Grace’s efforts.
He pressed harder. Deeper. He knew it hurt. He liked that most.
He continued his torment of Simon until the cotton ball was soaking, engorged and provocative against the abused skin of the model’s tissues. He was satisfied with his incursion. He had his sample and he had the man underneath him ready to beg for something else violating his throat instead. He could grant a small amount of reprieve. He pulled his hand away from his exploration and Simon fully relaxed beneath him once again. Grace carefully capped and labeled the sample, ignoring his growing need for something else now that his need for answers had been satiated.
Once he tucked the vials safely away, he returned his attention to his lab rat, but this time did not focus solely on his maw. He examined each beautiful part of Simon. From his capable hands, splayed wide and resting down by his side in supplication toward the sky, to his elegant feet. His toes were twitching in anticipation. It was cute.
Simon’s cock stood proudly away from his stomach, hard and needy. His dark eyes followed Grace’s movements across the room eagerly. The trepidation was gone. He loved what came next, for as much as he suffered through it.
“Open.” Grace commanded. Simon’s mouth fell wide, back to the position it had been in before with the single difference of his tongue stretching out in a sensuous arc. Grace loved that he could see the way the muscle strained through the opening in his cheek. He decided the quick obedience deserved a reward. He ghosted still gloved fingers over Simon’s erection, gentling from root to tip. The supple material of the gloves catching on the sensitive skin and making Simon shiver.
“Good boy.” Grace praised. Simon shivered harder. He was such a good boy. Grace couldn’t wait to ruin him.
He peeled off the gloves slowly in a perverse strip tease. Pitch eyes drank in every movement. With a flick he discarded them, then brought his hands together in a clap that caused Simon’s nostrils to flare. Time to begin the next segment.
He pressed his thumbs into the vulnerable skin of his subject’s underbelly. Firmly, but bearable at first. Then deeper. Harder. Meaner, in the same way he had pressed the swab into Simon’s throat. The subject took what was given to him. Grace noted that there were no new tears. Simon was trying so hard to be good for him.
He kept the pressure steady now that it was just this side of agonizing and rolled his thumbs up the length of Simon’s impressive body until they came to rest at the base of his throat. He briefly contemplated wrapping his hands around the thick column of his neck and squeezing until he got a reaction. Hm. That would be a fun experiment for another time. He lifted the pressure from his thumbs, but before Simon could exhale in relief formed his hands into claws and raked hard down the length of skin he had just traversed.
Simon choked on his shocked inhale. Grace was pleased he had gotten to observe his subject with obstructed breathing after all. That was a pleasant and unexpected surprise. He observed as red welts raised on Simon’s tan skin. The expected reaction, but thrilling nonetheless. Sometimes repetition of an experiment wasn’t to promote new discovery, it was just for fun and to reinforce congruity.
Grace was content to move on. He undid the fastening on his pants and shoved them away. He hesitated over his shirt, but decided it would be better to get it all out of the way before his body got ahead of his brain and tripped him up later. He removed the rest of his clothing, then climbed onto the bed and positioned himself over his specimen. If he dragged his cock along the hard curve of it’s pectoral muscles to leave a rewarding streak of precome there, then that was his own business. Clearly an important part of the scientific process.
He settled his bent knees on either side of Simon’s head, resting carefully back onto his chest. Simon’s patient mouth still lie submissively open and welcoming. Grace raised his hands to the other man’s face. One hand gently cupping a smooth and unblemished cheek in a gentle caress. The other trailing over beautiful and flawed skin. Simon had told him it was tender. He only took advantage of that to be mean a little.
He scraped lightly over the scarred skin, slicing his nails just enough to elicit an open mouthed gasp. Science really was magnificent. There was something so majestic about the thrill of discovery. Each new reaction meticulously added to his comprehensive understanding of Simon and what made him tick.
He curled forward and pressed a careful kiss over the teeth protruding from the side of the subject’s face. How he loved them so. He wanted to worship them. He wanted to wreck them. He straightened and unceremoniously jammed his thumb into the closest fang, pushing it up into the gums, enjoying the feel of the soft tissue faltering under his hostile attack. It was fun to see how the mutations reacted to outside stimuli. It was fun to see how Simon reacted to him. Grace mentally filed his pained grunts away with the rest of the information he would review later. He would relish in it. He was relishing in it, now.
“You’re doing magnificent.” Grace acknowledged as he relieved the upward pressure. It couldn’t be said that he didn’t take good care of his things. Sometimes positive reinforcement was an appropriate response.
He was leaking where he bumped into Simon’s chin. He decided he didn’t want to wait any longer. Experimental stage over, now time to draw a conclusion. Grace raised up to angle himself nicely, then held himself steady in one hand while he used the other to lift Simon’s lip. He glided the tip as close to the other man’s gums as he could in a repeat of the routine he had followed before with the sample kit.
He took a slight detour to drag himself over the edge of Simon’s mouth and the sharper teeth that extended there. His subject remained motionless underneath him except for the slightest tremors in his straining muscles. He knew he had to be careful here to avoid serious injury to himself, but the feel of the smooth enamel gliding against him was heady and addicting, and Simon would never hurt him. Not like Grace did to him.
But Grace didn’t like being hurt, and Simon did. He liked being reminded that his place was here, underneath Grace. Under his body, his care. He was safe on Erid except for the pain that he willingly submitted to, and craved receiving from someone he trusted to dole it out carefully and intentionally. He liked carrying marks that proclaimed him as cherished and owned. Ryland would gladly give him whatever he needed, and if he got to have his own play while he was at it, then they could both reap the benefits.
The next sample in the routine was from the back of the tongue. Grace fed his cock into Simon’s eager mouth and marveled at how overwhelming it was every time he claimed what was his. Simon’s eyes closed in relief, and Grace threw his head back and groaned at the feel of hot and wet and dangerous. He held that position for a moment, reminding himself that he didn’t rush earlier, and he shouldn’t rush now. His argument with himself was probably a losing battle.
He brought his hands up to comb through Simon’s rich hair, scruffing tantalizingly along his scalp. “You can touch yourself. You’ve been so patient for me. Such a good job staying still and listening.” He crooned.
Simon’s eyes darkened as he stared back adoringly. That was always an enjoyable variable to observe. His plush lips were stretched obscenely around Grace, holding him soft and loving. He was so delightful.
“Move with me. Stroke when I do.” Grace ordered. “But don’t come until I say you can. You’ve been obedient so far. We wouldn’t want to change that and ruin the outcome.”
He felt Simon shift below him, presumably following directions and grasping his own erection. Grace didn’t bother looking back to check. He knew Simon would listen, and he could tell by the way Simon’s neck was straining and the specific shade of red it had turned how he would appear. Hard and leaking and wanting. Waiting. Resplendent. Repeating experiments meant he had a lot of previous data to rely on. Simon was always beautiful for him.
The third sample was from the soft palate. He knew Simon could take it. That he would like it. That they would both like it. He rolled his hips forward and sank incrementally further into the slick, warm, grasp of Simon’s mouth. He pressed until he bumped the soft skin at the back of Simon’s throat. When Simon responded with intentionally even breathing and a slow pump of his own cock, Grace pressed impossibly deeper. That was so good. Simon was so good.
He loved examining the way Simon’s eyes rolled back in his head and his chest heaved underneath him. The way his shoulder shifted as he struggled to copy Grace’s slow and torturous movements where his arm was trapped between Grace’s thighs. The exam lights pulled every adored plane of Simon’s face in stark relief. Laid bare to Grace’s inquisitive scrutiny. The teeth on his cheek the most beguiling feature of all. Grace brought his fingers up to Simon’s jowl in another caress, fondling the fangs for his own amusement before slipping his first two fingers into the slit between them. He used the opening Simon had granted him to stroke along his own cock where it was still nestled inside his beloved’s mouth.
He allowed himself time to explore. Feeling the way Simon’s tongue met the veins on the underside of his erection. Observing each hitching breath his fingers could teasingly coax from the man. Running his digits along Simon’s cheek and then back to where his throat was straining to accommodate the incursion. He pressed there with his fingers, too.
Simon had started openly crying, now. Tears trailing silently and stoically down his handsome face. Grace loved that response. He removed his fingers and used that hand to clinically wipe a tear away. He inspected it where it mixed with Simon’s saliva then brought it to his own mouth for a lick. There was no particularly notable taste. Inconclusive evidence. Time to see if he could foster new reactions with dependent variables.
He leaned forward to get better support. One hand rested on the bed above Simon’s head, indenting the sheets tangled around them. The other clutched at the meat of his scarred shoulder. He could be generous. He dug his nails in until Simon was panting around him, desperate for it. Excellent. He rolled his hips, dragging himself out until he could see his tip peeking between Simon’s lips, glistening with spit in the overhead lights.
He had been patient and measured enough. He fucked back in briskly. Roughly taking what was his. Simon felt like heaven around him. He was stunning underneath him, where his hand had sped up to match Grace’s punishing pace. He pistoned quickly, unable to control his volatile reaction to the stimuli of warm perfection taking him in. He had teased them both for so long, he didn’t know how long he would be able to last. He was unconcerned. Simon would take it whenever he deigned to give it.
Simon was moaning around him, gagging and shaking uncontrollably. Grace didn’t care. He kept up his ruinous movement anyway. It just made his own pleasure all the more heightened. Simon’s hips started bucking, aborted movements where he tried to force more friction than his trapped position was permitting. Grace allowed it. Simon was getting close, and usually Grace would penalize him for that, but he was as well. He could let it slide for this once as long as Simon was a good assistant and didn’t come until he was told.
He plunged himself deeper, faster. Bumping against the back of Simon’s throat with each thrust. Gliding over his smooth tongue. Pleasure crested. He thrust forward as far as Simon’s jaw would allow, imagining the bones and joints creaking under his service. He fucked the first pulses of come as deep as he could, delighting in the way Simon struggled to swallow around him. He pulled back before he finished, pumping the last spurts over his specimen’s face, tongue still lolled open and waiting. Some splattered over the fangs. Breathtaking.
Simon stilled beneath him once he stopped, his entire body tensed and hand still wrapped around his cock waiting for the command that he could continue. Grace only made him endure for a moment. He had been masochistic enough.
“Go ahead. You deserve it. You’ve been remarkable.” He praised.
Simon’s head fell back in relief. His arm rapidly moved to resume the motion he had aborted before. Grace talked him through it.
“So beautiful. So good. So perfect for me. Exactly what I wanted. Exactly what I needed. Always so unique. So special. So mine.” He purred.
Simon’s whole body tensed, his teeth clenched, and he let out a low grunt as he came. Grace felt a warm streak splash across his back. Impressive. He loved it when his colleagues were competent.
He rested lightly on his knees while he let Simon come down. The other man raggedly sucked air in and out to try and control his breathing and reactions. Even now he was being so obedient.
When he had returned closer to his baseline, Grace eased off to stand over him and observe. He analytically surveyed the work they had done. Stripes of viscous white fluid painting the expanse of Simon’s darker skin. He loved when science and art melded. He ran his hands soothingly over the other man’s muscular body, manipulating his limbs to be more comfortable. He paused to rub in the semen he came across like a brand. He could admit that he was possessive. He could admit that he didn’t care. Simon welcomed it and that's all that mattered.
Simon relaxed into his touch, humming in pleasure when Ryland gentled over a particularly sensitive area. Grace inspected each crevice. He appreciated the outcome of their labor and how well Simon had behaved. He was a good subject. This was an example of someone that was not a staggering waste of carbon. He had behaved quite well. Certainly within the parameters of a successful experiment. He would have to see if he could replicate the results of this trial sometime, they were very pleasing. Call it scientific curiosity.