She awoke lying on a bed. It took her several slow eye blinks to register the fact.  There was shuffling movement nearby, but that seemed unimportant right then.

Everything… feels so slow. That’s not right, is it?

She contemplated her arms, which seemed to stretch away from her into forever.  What seemed to her like several yards away, strong leather cuffs held her wrists in a tight embrace, far apart and at roughly a level with her belly button.  A metal cable locked to the cuffs extended down and over the side of the mattress, holding her arms out to the sides of the bed.  She could feel the tension of the cables as she was held firmly by them, though really without noticeable discomfort.  

More out of curiosity than anything else, she tried to pull her hand free.  She was surprised to find that she could not produce any movement in them.  Not even a finger wiggle.  With a concerted effort, she managed to get some movement out of them but the cable assured that it was only a token tremor.  The hands seemed to float out there without really being connected to her, like they were alien to her body.  

She had a moment’s thought that she really ought to be concerned about this, but the thought drifted away.  Looking up, for the first time she saw the man looking at her from the side of the bed.

“Hello,” He said simply with a kind smile as he jotted notes onto a clipboard.  She liked his smile, even if he was maybe a little on the heavy side for her liking.    

She tried to respond, but found it difficult to form the words.  With a lazy grin, she responded. “Hi…  umm….”

She looked at him with a quizzical expression. “ My…  hands…?”

“Are they uncomfortable?” he asked, checking the side nearest him.

She shook her head slowly, the effort imparting an unpleasant spin to the room.  She bit her lip as a little girl might when unsure about the question.

He placed his hand on hers.  “Can you feel me touching your hand?”

She thought about this for a second, and decided that she could though just barely, so she nodded.  She looked from his kind face to his white lab coat.  He looked and sounded like a doctor.  A nice doctor.  You always do as the nice doctor says.

“How about… here?” he asked, and she couldn’t see where he was touching her, but couldn’t feel anything either, so she shook her head ‘no’.

He took a penlight out of the pocket on his white lab coat, and shined it into one eye, then the other.  It was painfully bright, but she patiently tolerated it like a patient must.  

“Very good, you're coming along splendidly.  I’ve got a few more preparations to make to get you ready, and then we’ll begin.  Alright?” he asked in that kind, soothing voice of his.

“Ok,” she said reflexively. He smiled warmly at her as he reached across her and unbuttoned her jeans.  As he pulled the zipper down, a small quiet part of her sent out a feeling of indignation.  But the floating feeling came back over her in a wave that washed her objections away.  

I’m playing doctor, just like when we were kids.  Playing doctor, yes.  Pretty Polly Patient.  Doctor’s orders.

But… my name’s not Polly is it?   No…   

She thought about her name as she watched peacefully while he took her sneakers off.  She saw more than felt the act of their removal, the sensations seeming to fade away somewhere below her knees.  Someone else’s feet were now shoeless, toes in white cotton socks a world away.  He pulled down her socks, tugging them neatly from her feet until they were fully exposed.  The socks he rolled up and placed neatly into the sneakers.  The sneakers went onto a white counter top on the wall opposite the foot of the bed.

She tried to wiggle her toes but could get no reaction, but she believed him when he said that would all be better soon.

It starts with a ‘C’.  Oh, what is it! C, C, C…. Ca?  Ca, Ca, Ca…

“Hmmm?  What was that, my dear?” he asked from the bottom of the bed as he arranged some odds and ends next to her legs.

She thought about that.  What was he asking?  Oh… my… “…name.” she said, not realizing that some of her internal dialog was making its way to the surface. It must have leaked out.

“Now, now, pretty girl.  Don’t worry too much about that.  It will all come back to you in time,” he said soothingly.  He got a grip on the ends of her pant legs and with a few tugs, she felt them begin to slide off of her. One last tug and off they came. She distantly felt the cool air across the tops of her thighs.

“You have lovely, pretty yellow panties,” he observed as he drew a white sheet over her, covering her right up to her neck.  It made her feel better somehow.  It made her feel less exposed.  She didn’t even mind it too much when he reached under the sheet and slowly worked her panties down, out from under her butt, and then down and off her legs.  He folded up the jeans, rolling the panties up in them, and onto the shoes they went.

He considered her for a moment, and then he shook his head as if he’d forgotten something.  Turning to a small side table covered with various implements, he selected a pair of sheers.

“….every time…” she could hear him mutter.

He reached under the sheet again, and she could feel some tugging here and there on her shirt, up one side and along the sleeve.  He moved to the other side of the bed and repeated.  Just as she found herself getting bored, contemplating the texture of the ceiling, he moved with a flourish.  Like a magician, with a few smooth and gentle tugs he pulled her ravaged lavender top out from under the sheets in two pieces.  

The girl with the Ca for a name giggled a little, drunkenly. Her head lolled to follow him as he folded the remnants of the shirt and placed it on the pile. As she looked at the remnants of the shirt, a thought occurred to her.

They don’t match…

What it meant, she could not say.  She chased the thought, and found herself beginning to float away peacefully into an inner void.

Returning to the preparations, he approached the bottom of the bed again with two heavy leather ankle cuffs and a long, stainless steel bar.  His rummaging around brought her back to herself.  

She found she was able to feel some sensation in her feet.  She felt the cold and strong leather as he wrapped it around each of her ankles in turn.  He pulled the buckles tight on each one before applying a small lock from the pocket of his lab coat.  Looking out at her hands she could see the same sort of lock securing her buckles there, and another that locked the steel cable’s looped end to a D-ring on the cuffs.

She tried to move her hands again, and could manage a bit more, but again, it would be to no avail in any case.  The cable was not to be argued with.

Feeling her legs being repositioned drew her attention once more to his preparations.  He locked her right ankle to a loop on one end of the steel bar.  She tried to move her leg, and succeeded in raising a knee up a bit.

“Ah ah ah!  No moving right now,” he chided as he pulled her leg back out straight. She felt chastised and confused, as he moved on to the other ankle.  Here, he stretched her leg far out to the side to where the bar ended, and locked that ankle to the spreader bar, her ankles now about four or five feet apart.

“Do you remember how I promised we would play Doctor?” he asked, as he tied a length of rope to the loop in the center of the bar.  He pulled the bar down towards him, stretching her legs out, before he looped the rope around to one of the bars at the bottom of the bed and knotted it off.

“Nuh uhh,” she replied shaking her head.  She really couldn’t, although… something about playing doctor seemed familiar.

“Well, I did promise. And you’re being an excellent patient right now.  One more thing and we’re ready for your examination.  Are you ready to be my model patient?” he asked, and as he walked up one side of the bed, his hand traced up her leg from the ankle to her knee, and higher, denting the white sheet and tucking it in underneath her leg like a tight fitted legging.

She didn’t know how to respond, but he seemed to want her to say yes, so she did.

“That’s my good girl.” He said, and she felt pretty good about that, even though she was a little worried about the game that they were going to play.  She wanted to be good. She seemed to feel that it was important that she be good for him.  But she worried that she might not know the game.

While she thought about that, he slipped a strap of cold leather under her neck, and before she could register what it was, he was buckling on a thick collar.  The doctor proceeded to lock cables to d-rings on either side of her collar.  Then he ran the cables up to the sturdy metal bars at the head of the bed. Pulling the cables evenly tight, he applied upward tension onto her neck before securing the cables back where she could not see them. She realized that the tension of the cables to her neck and head counterbalanced the tension of the cables that held her arms out and down, so that she could neither move down due to the collar nor up because of her wrists.  She felt herself held down tightly, stretched at every corner, unable to move at all.

As he walked around the other side of the bed, he tucked the sheets under that leg, and where her legs ended, he took a moment to tuck some material under her buttocks from the front.  The effect made her feel like she was being held all along the insides of her legs, the sheets tucked in tightly seemed restrictive yet comforting.  While she considered these sensations she realized that his hand lingered at the tops of her legs.  He cupped her front and gave it a little squeeze that made her feel very self-conscious.  

Looking down at her feet was much more difficult now with the traction of the collar.  It applied tension to the underside of her jaw.  She tried and this time, successfully wiggled the toes of both feet, though sluggishly.  Her head collapsed back to the bed in exhaustion.  He noticed her movements as well, seeming very pleased as he approached her right foot.  She felt him run his finger up the bottom of her foot, which ticked and made her giggle and withdraw her foot.  

“Good, good….”  He moved to the other foot and repeated, and once more the same reaction.  “Good!  Your reflexes are intact, and you have most of your sensations back.  However, it will be just a bit longer before you have full voluntary use of your muscles again.  But that’s no problem, because now we’re all set to play Doctor properly, aren’t we, Pretty Polly?”  

She frowned, and concentrated, craning her neck forward again against the tension of the collar to look at him directly.  “I’m not Polly.  I’m… Ca….   Ca… uhmmmmm….”  Her face showed her consternation as she struggled for her name.  Eventually her head got too heavy and she let it down in frustration.  

“Don’t concern yourself too much about that.  Right now we have an examination to conduct.  It’s my opinion that we’ll need a very thorough going over.”

Realization dawned on her that she had been drugged.  As she felt his hands on her leg, running slowly up and down the inside of her thigh, she felt absolute embarrassment that the thought had not occurred to her earlier.   

I laid there while he tied me up, she realized, and berated herself for letting it happen to her.

She felt his hand sliding up her leg, over her crotch, where he paused once more to give her a firm cupping squeeze, before moving slowly northward.

Her face showed her distress.  

“I suppose that I could give you another dose of your medicine, if it’s troubling you too much.  It has a very calming influence.  Would you like another dose?” he asked her kindly, while his fingers trailed slowly up her front towards her breasts.

Drugged… again?  She realized that she now craved some semblance of control, and asking the Doctor to send her back down to the state of mind that she had just crawled out of would be bad.

Slowly she shook her head.  

“No?  Well, if you can be a good patient, then we’ll go on without it.  You probably won’t remember much of this anyway, if that’s of some comfort,” he said as his hands finished meandering about her belly and settled in, gripping the sheet firmly.

She steeled herself as he began to tug the sheet down, pulling it from the level of her belly-button until inch by inch first her shoulders, then her fine boned clavicles were exposed to the air.  Somewhere within her, an additional sense of self began to reassert itself.  With a shock she realized that she was completely naked under the sheet, with only the thin white cotton between her and the Doctor.

Looking around, she took note of everything for the first time.  The walls were of cement painted bright white.  The fluorescent lights overhead hanging from a cement ceiling.  The bed she was in was an old hospital bed, the kind made of metal with strong chromed steel bars for a headboard and footboard.  It was to these that she could see her spreader bar secured.  The metal side rails held the cables that secured her hands.  She could not see far upwards enough to tell where her collar was attached to.  

Counters, cabinets, and equipment trays lined the nearest wall.  All of it looked like something out of the 1950’s. All, except for one thing.  At the side of the bed, hanging from the ceiling, were three large modern computer panel screens, all of them currently dark.

As the sheet was drawn downwards, she could feel both of her nipples become rock hard, pressing into the rough cotton. The friction of the sheet rubbing up against her exposed and stiff nipples generated a white-hot feeling that she could not prevent from penetrating deep within her.

The upper parts of her breasts were slowly exposed as she watched with growing dread.  Just before her nipples were unsheathed, he stopped, taking the opportunity to play with them through the starched white cotton.  Rolling them, kneading them between fingers and thumb, she heard her own sharply indrawn breath, and felt her clenched fists still as weak as a kitten.  His expert attentions made her breasts and her knotted stomach muscles ache all the way down to the apex of her forcibly spread legs.

She moaned involuntarily at the unexpected stimulation, and tried to move her chest out of his reach.  She found the tensions of the cables and the lingering effects of the drugs in her system too much to overcome, as he continued to fondle her. She managed only to lift her shoulders from the bed momentarily before she lost her one person tug-of-war.

She watched as he slowly lowered the sheet to her bellybutton, her breasts fully exposed now.  Her areola hardened in the cooler air to match her thrusting nipples as his hands returned to her breasts.  Circling each areola from the outside, his lightly tracing fingertips raised gooseflesh across her body.

“Nnn…No. S-S-Stop!”  she whined, flexing her fingers and trying to pull back against the spreader bar with her feet.  She managed to raise both knees a few inches off the mattress this time.

“Stop? I’m afraid it’s much too late to stop the procedure now.  You’re all prepared, after all. And I know that deep down inside, you want this to continue.”  His hands proceeded to massage her abdomen, fingers moving down her flanks with his thumbs along her midline. She felt weak and helpless in his strong gripping hands. She wanted to refute his statement, but she found she could not form words.

As he brought his hands down lower, they hooked under the sheet and dragged it down with him.  It traveled down past her bellybutton.  His large, strong hands possessively encircled her waist just at the point where the curve of her hips flared out again.  Beneath his massaging grip she felt betrayed as a small fire burned in her belly from the progression of his stimulation. It burned, wanting to be touched deeply, and she was ashamed. Suddenly, though, he stopped as the sheet was just coming level with her bikini line.

She realized that she had clamped her eyes shut tightly, and felt the first tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. There was no way that she could stop him.  She realized that she would, in every way, be examined.

She was further shocked as he leaned over and slowly, gently, began to kiss her nipples.  With a free hand he once again cupped her crotch. She let out a moan of frustration, sadness, and shame at her own self betrayal as she felt her body respond to his touch, his kiss, and his caresses between her legs. She was filled with the sudden realization… She could not feel any pubic hair at all.

I’m bare down there.  He must have shaved me!

He continued to pay homage to her jutting nipples.  She felt her breasts ache in turn, as one was abandoned while he paid a visit to the other. The cupping hand curled, and began to apply pressure, raking over her shaved and electrically sensitive skin on either side of her increasingly swollen lips. She felt a flare of heat run through her body as she sought to close her legs, but the spreader bar held the ankle cuffs well apart.

She was overwhelmed with sensation, as he traced kisses down her left breast from the nipple to the base, and then down lower.  All her attention became fixated on the trail of kisses that moved lower, and lower, following the path the sheets had taken.  She heard the sound of her own rhythmically gasping breath as her stomach rose to meet him in waves with each inhale. She could feel the heat rising within her as she fought it.  She could not remember ever feeling this turned on before and hated it.  Memory of any kind was far off in the distance, but she was sure she’d never felt such coiled heat or forbidding shame.

Suddenly, he stopped.  She could hear some shuffling noises nearby.

“I think you’re doing very well.  You’re coming along at a very rapid pace.  You’ve wet through the sheet already, which means we are ready for the next phase. We’re going to chart your progress for the remainder of this session.”

With his hand removed, she could feel the cooling wetness that had originated from within her.  When she dared to open her eyes, he was approaching her with a series of wires.

He began to apply electrodes across her chest, down her arms and legs, and at her feet.  A thin strip went across her forehead.  One was a strap that looked like a bracelet; he applied it just above her wrist cuff.

He pointed, and she noted that the monitors were all now switched on.  Various numbers and lines appeared one by one as the system started up.  

“These readings on the first monitor track your heart rate, O2 saturation, respiration, and galvanic skin response. Over here, the actions of the large muscle groups, and below, the smaller involuntary muscles.  There’s basic brain activity tracking on the third screen.”   Some of the lines had already begun to rise from their prior flat line display.

He scrubbed the inside of her left elbow with an alcohol prep pad.  “Little pinch here,” he announced, and she closed her eyes tight as he inserted the IV catheter into her vein.  When she opened her eyes again, the saline bag he had hung was dripping very slowly as he carefully taped the IV line down in three places.

“I’ll be mindful to keep you hydrated.  The tests tend to cause the subject to deplete their reserves.  Do tell me if you feel cotton-mouthed at any time.  If needed, I can administer medication through the line. Now, last of all… there’s one very special monitor that I’ll need to place.  It’s a bit more difficult to apply than the others.  I ask for your patience while it is applied,” he said somewhat apologetically.

He pulled a remote control from his pocket, and reaching up, she heard clicking sounds as he lowered and retrieved a rope from a pulley in the ceiling anchored above the center of the bed. The rope ended in a carabineer.  She watched, straining to see down her body, as he clipped the line to the center of her spreader bar before releasing the rope that secured it to the bars at the foot of the bed.

Moments later, she heard the clicking noise return as the rope was reeled into the pulley. When it had taken up the slack, she felt it tugging the spreader bar up off the bed, and with it her legs.

“NO! NO!! NO!” she screamed.  He paid her no mind as the rope clattered back up towards the ceiling, taking her spread ankles up into the air with it.  She tried to twist and turn, but it made no difference, as soon her ankles were held high over her midsection, and slightly behind the line of her hips.  Her legs spread wide forming a V in the air.  He let the line reel in, clicking away, until her butt came off the bed about an inch.

When the pulley stopped, she was gasping and crying, blubbering for him to let her go.  She dangled  from the spreader bar, her feet pivoting this way and that as she struggled.

Next he pulled from his tray a solid looking chromed steel rod about an inch around and 6 inches long, with a tapered rounded nose.  Around the rod at regular intervals were white squares embedded in the steel. The rod ended in a chromed ball followed by a triangular shaped flared end, beyond which originated a small bundle of wires.  She saw him apply lube to the length of the thing, and the ball at the bottom.    

She knew right away where that was going.  With her legs held in the air, the sheets had pooled down into her lap, leaving her ass bared in the breeze.  She wanted none of this.

“No… please…Don’t,“ she pleaded, tears streaming down the sides of her face and her hands balled into fists.

“My dear, please calm yourself, or I’ll have to give you another dose, for your own good.  I’d rather not, as it would affect the readings, but if you keep this up, you’re going to throw off the results anyway.  Now just take a deep breath.  When I say so, I want you to bear down gently.”

He bent to his task, paying her no further mind as she fought the cables and blubbered.  She could feel him applying cold, slick lube around the rim of her rosebud.  She began to emit a slow, steady moan of horror at her situation.

With what she thought might be a gloved finger, he began to penetrate her, pushing in generous gobs of lube ahead of his fingertip, and gently massaging the rim of her rectum from the inside.

She was finally able to get her breathing under control, but just barely.  Inside, she was in turmoil. As his finger made its way slowly around the ring of her anus, she began to feel warm.  Her muscles gradually released under his expert ministrations.  Just as she began to admit to herself that it was becoming distinctly enjoyable, he stopped, withdrawing his finger.  

 Suddenly, she felt a new sensation down there.  Instead of his finger, she felt the rounded, cold, probing metal slowly parting her sphincter ring. With a twisting motion it slipped slowly and smoothly beyond, up inside of her.  She could feel herself being impaled on cold metal, pressing aside her innards.  It felt impossibly long inside her, as onward pressed the cold metallic presence.  She moaned in horror as she could feel it wend its way into her guts. After a few moments, she thought it was over when she felt it meet some resistance at her bottom. Yet he continued to press it into her, the feeling of tension and resistance from her anus increasing.

The ball!  She thought.  It hadn’t looked all that big, but suddenly, it felt like a small planet being forced up her bottom. She felt the doctor take a firm grip.

“Ok, now, bear down.”

She felt him pressing the ball hard up against her bottom, and she instinctively fought it, clamping down against this new aspect to the ice cold intruder.

Accidentally, her instincts to expel the device caused her to bear down, which gave him just enough leeway to pass the anchor of the probe through her nether opening.

She felt it acutely as the ball slipped into her sphincter ring, sliding slowly past.  She grunted, feeling as if the air had been forced from her lungs.  Finally, the triangular flange rested perfectly up against the outer rim of her anus, the device settling deep inside her.  She fell back exhausted and sobbed quietly while the chromed intruder gradually stole her body heat.  Her rectum quivered in the aftermath of the insult, her pulse pounding in a circle around the protruding wires.

As she shifted and tried to get comfortable again she could feel the wires jiggling around while he hooked them up, the vibration transmitted deep into her bowels.

He proceeded to place some new electrodes across her belly, and one on either side of the insides of her thighs.  These had no wires attached to them, yet as he placed each one, new sets of lines on the display began to trend upwards.

“The probe is quite a piece of equipment.  It will track the muscle tone across your abdomen and pelvic region, and especially the deeper muscles of the vagina. It will also register the pressure and frequency of any rectal or vaginal contractions. And finally, it’s just really personally satisfying to administer!” He got a pleased gleam in his eye that made her blush and turn her head away.

“Let’s test it before we move to the next stage.”

She could not see past the wadded up sheet that had settled along the tops of her legs, but she could feel him rummaging around her crotch. He had unhindered access to her with her ass still slung in the air.  She felt him applying straps around the tops of her legs, trailing around her bottom before returning to her front.  He parted her outer lips and snuggled something smooth and cold into the middle of her Mons.  Several lines on the display began to edge up, and her heart and respiration rate rose markedly.  She felt him wipe off her perineum from the copious juices that she could feel making their way dripping slowly down the insides of her legs.

“I’m applying a stimulator to you.  Some call it a butterfly vibrator because of the side wings and straps that secure it in position.  It is hooked up in a feedback loop with the sensors, and is programmed to bring you slowly and deliberately to the edge of orgasm.  Your task is… to not have an orgasm.  I want you to resist it. It will start soon, so just relax.” He said, clinically and yet still with a hint of kindness to him that was at odds with her situation.

She waited in fear and anticipation.  A minute went by, then two.   He busied himself with a laptop, referring occasionally to his notes and clipboard, as nothing continued to happen.

Maybe it’s broken!  Oh, please let it be broken!

The lines on the display began to slowly return to their former levels… heart rate declining, respirations evening out, her various muscle groups returning to baseline.

I wonder which line is for which muscle?  She wondered, and then reproved herself for being curious.

He’s got me tied up here, spread, and penetrated for some sick pseudo-scientific research.  How could I be interested in that!  She hated herself for even thinking about it.  But as she tried to stuff her thoughts down, she noted that the lines on the display spiked up briefly, mirroring the renewed flash of heat and sexual tension those thoughts had brought.

As more minutes passed, in her exhausted state, she felt her somewhat still medicated mind begin to wander.  Just as she began to drift off into a light doze, she thought she felt something.  Just a slight tickle, right over her clitoris. She unconsciously shifted in a mindless effort to dislodge the vibrator.  Two lines on the display meandered slightly higher and then settled again, while another four lines began to slowly tick higher.

Those two must monitor my leg muscles, she thought. I wonder what those four are connected to?

They rose just a bit more and settled at their new altitude.  After a minute, just as she was getting bored, the buzzing became perceptibly stronger.  The four lines began to rise again, joined now by another pair, and she shifted again slightly and cleared her throat.  The sensation began to pulse gently, and she felt it acutely at the apex of her legs.

She was held at this level of light stimulation until several of her readings reached a new, heightened baseline.  The pitch of the butterfly rose again, becoming stronger now, sending pleasure radiating a bit further out across her pelvis.  Most of the lines on the display began to steadily tick up.  Her heartbeat notched up, as did her breathing.  She felt and heard two different tones of buzz in the vibrator that rose and fell separately, their frequencies crossing each other.  The sensation it imparted was like someone slowly stroking up and down her slit with a small but powerful bullet vibrator.

She reacted by trying to move her arms and hands to remove the offending stimulator, trying to close her legs, gritting her teeth as she moaned slightly.  Half of the display arced up in response, and she felt mortified that every little internal drama and body reaction was betrayed on the screen.

He has me tied up, he’s stimulating me slowly to orgasm, and even my own body’s reactions are laid bare before him!  I hate this!  I hate him!   A sob escaped, tears again leaking from the corners of her eyes.  Yet she could not take her eyes away from the display.  Could not help but see how her thoughts were accompanied by several sets of lines that rose sharply, and she realized that it was no coincidence.  She imagined him climbing up on the bed, gently parting her labia, and driving himself deep inside her in a single hot possessing thrust.  To her horror, nearly every line on the display spiked. She found herself fighting the bonds again, grunting and tugging, fighting what her own body had just told her.

When she came back to her senses, the vibrator again added more power, she could hear it and feel it strongly throughout her body.  Her legs began to twitch, her breath coming in gasps.

The last few lines that had been sitting quietly near the bottom of the display began to slowly undulate, forming a sine wave that went up… then down…  before resting and beginning again.  She knew intuitively what they represented, as she tried to even out her breathing, she watched as the lines drew lazy peaks that rose ever slightly higher.  She felt that tightening feeling deep in her gut, getting stronger with each buzzing passing second.   Like a monster that stalked her in the night, her orgasm was coming.

He wandered over, taking an active interest in her again, as he pulled the sheet free of her body.  For the first time, she could see the vibrator, a clinical looking chrome contraption. The black straps tightly securing it’s “wings” against her skin, the body of it shaped to dip down beneath the folds and nestle into her ridge. The cupping head of the butterfly was snuggled in around her erect and slightly protruding clitoris.  However, much of the sheath around her throbbing clit was still interposed between it and the burrowing butterfly.

Thank goodness, he didn’t get my nub fully engaged with that thing!  

As she strained to look down at herself, she saw the wires emanating from her backside.  As she took in the scene fully, registering her helplessness as she contemplated the machinery that he had attached to her, every line on the display took another step up.  She felt the muscle tension across her abdomen clamp down momentarily before easing up, and she grunted with the effort of holding back the inevitable.

Just when she felt she could hold the line, her versus the machine, he took a closer look at her buzzing intruder.  He made a tisk, tisk sound as he pulled her labia aside, and stretching her skin there a bit he fully exposed her clitoris before pressing the butterfly deeply into the folds.  She gritted her teeth and hissed at the full effect against her clit, no longer protected by its hood, while the slow undulating lines began to wave higher, their frequency tightening up.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, genuinely interested.

“Fuck you!” she spat back at him between grunts and her heaving chest.

“Maybe, after we’ve got all the data we need.”  He grinned, and reached over to toy with her nipples.  She moaned, responding to his touch despite herself.   The vibrator throttled back, giving her a brief respite.  She caught her breath as he checked off boxes and made notes.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“I… I don’t know!” she managed to get out between gasps.

“How old are you?”  evenly, patiently.

“I don’t know!!  OH!  Ungh!     Why are you doing this to me!?” she cried, small streams of sweat breaking out across her forehead.

“Right, right, you don’t remember.  You are part of a study of female sexual response.  You are, currently, our only member of an admittedly small control group: Unwilling Participant.  We had a number of volunteers to make up the group of Willing Participants. But our research grant could not have gone forward without some objective assessment of Unwillings.  Technically, there are two separate sets of tests for your control group.  Objective assessment, and later, Subjective assessment. Right now is the Objective assessment.”

“Objective?  Subjective?  But… what does that mean?  Let me go! Oh, let me go, I want to go HOME!”

“Of course you do, my dear.  That’s what makes your contribution so valuable. We’re about to start in again. Remember:  Do not orgasm, no matter how much you will want to.  Try to fight it!” he said encouragingly and beamed at her.  

She heard a triple beeping tone, which caused him to turn his attention to the monitors.  A new set of numbers appeared along the top of the first monitor… a ten-second countdown timer.  

-10-

-9-

-8-

-7-

…

She just had time to notice how her levels had dropped slightly and her breathing returned to almost normal, when upon reaching zero, the vibrator leapt back into action.  What was a gentle crossing of frequencies rapidly became insistent thrumming, the sensation singing throughout her body.

The timer continued past zero. It began to count UP.  Sweat streamed off her forehead and beads of it appeared across her chest. She could no longer make sense of the monitor displays, and she wanted to thrash her head back and forth to help hold back the rising tide.  

At the two minute mark, she felt rhythmic motions began to play across her pelvis, her hips thrusting in time to the beat of the vibrator.  Her feet scrunched up, legs cramping from the pure joy that screamed from her pussy.

She hissed and grunted from gritted teeth, and she knew that she could not hold out much longer. At three minutes, the vibrator accelerated to full power and held there.  She began to scream and yelp, her legs jack hammering.

“What’s your name?”

“Huh?  Ugng!  Ooohh… I… I don’t KNOW!”

He reached out and ran his fingers lightly, slowly, across her nipples, and it was more than she could take.  Every muscle in her body clenched with the power of her orgasm as it ripped through her.  She saw spots cross her vision.   The vibrator held her in its power for an eternity, leaving her feeling like she’d been in contact with a live voltage line.  Very quickly, a second orgasm piggybacked on the first one, the monitor tracking her contractions as her knees flexed, her ass rising up high off the bed as she twisted around the spreader bar and keened mournfully.  

The system held her in its grip for an additional 15 seconds while it tracked her reactions, milking her for all she was worth.  Finally, it concluded that she had fulfilled the first phase of the experiment, and began to throttle back down towards idle.  

She collapsed to the bed, her breath came in heaving gasps.  Head lolling back and forth against her collar, sweat streaked body coming down from its roller coaster ride.

It took a full minute before she was fully aware of herself again.

“Caitlyn….” she gasped out, then swallowed and caught her breath.  She stared at the doctor with fear and exhaustion.  “Caitlyn.  My name… is Caitlyn.”

“Yes, it is.  Interesting,” he said, and made notations on the clipboard.