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Shelly-Shock

By: Smokey125



SS31: "Shelly-Shock"

***

LesBDSM at its finest...or most depraved. 'S a fine line, I know. This story's not going to be everyone's proverbial cup o' tea. Please do keep in mind so you don't get caught off-guard this is an odd-numbered Smokey story, so there'll be some evil BDSM, extreme—girl-on-girl in this case—abuse and torture involved. This is going to be like "Bad Rabbit" meets "Hell And Back." Only, brace yourself...no tickling here. Yep, believe it or not, none. My sincerest apologies, but not to worry, it'll be back before you know it!

P.S. With a slightly more involved storyline, this will also come in multiple parts. So here is chapter/installment one.

***

April 21st, 4:03 p.m.

A tired, disheveled, pent-up Shelly Powell rang the doorbell of her sex therapist, Dr. Vixie Sharpe, for her bimonthly appointment. She had to place her hand against the door and lean on it just so she didn't lose consciousness and fall down. She was dizzy, she was exhausted, she was cranky, frustrated and grouchy. She was chronologically a spry 25, but right now she felt more like 52.

"Well, and good afternoon to you," Vixie said with a cheerful smile as she opened the door.

"Mmm..." Shelly muttered grumpily, stumbling into the doctor's office.

She'd been going to see Dr. Sharpe every other Monday, for exactly six months, and each more recent appointment—since mid-February—was more trying and challenging than the one before. She was bisexual, and when she'd first entered into a committed exclusive relationship with her longtime-friend recent-boyfriend Howie, she was entirely faithful. The last thing she ever wanted to do was cheat, but every day she was cursed by the temptation of the outside world. Her naturally highly overactive libido was stroked raw on a normal basis, pushing and testing her fidelity to its limits. At the same time, before going into this with Howie and possibly hurting him, Shelly thought it might be a good idea to see if she could just nab a therapist and handle this on her own first.

Her very first session took place on October 21st of the previous year. The treatment was anything but cheap, and Shelly was paying every penny of it straight out of pocket, but November and December saw her indeed a happier person. Up to a month and a half after the turn of the new year, Dr. Vixie had really helped her. She educated her on the details of her issues, about the typical urges and compulsions of the human mind, and gave her the sound knowledge that she certainly wasn't alone. She also taught her a soothing breathing exercise which she told Shelly to do when she felt her mind entertaining inappropriate thoughts. It, explained Vixie, reduced her heart rate to a calmer level and rerouted her thought patterns so she was less likely to think these negative things.

So Shelly went home and diligently did her homework, and by their next appointment, two weeks later, she happily reported to Dr. Vixie that she had in fact begun to see results showing, but she knew she still had a lot of work to do. She continued seeing her every two weeks. Luckily, though she and Howie were close, they didn't live together, so she didn't have to explain to him where she was going when it was time to see Dr. Sharpe. She still wasn't keen on telling him all this. She wasn't the most insecure person in the world, but if the situation were reversed, she knew she wouldn't be very thrilled about that, either.

She stuck to her techniques, tried to take everything in her life just a bit easier than she had been before last fall, and slowly but surely, her temptations decreased. She started to feel the comfort in simply chatting with a stranger as nothing more than potential friends. Christmas passed, as did New Year's, building Shelly's progress. She was beginning to feel really proud of herself.

Then, unfortunately, one week before Valentine's Day, she had a slip.

***

Two and a half months earlier

February 7th, 9:54 p.m.

Shelly worked at a coffee shop whimsically named Perx, halfway up Juniper Street, which paid her bills adequately enough, but didn't leave her a wealth of spare coin for leisure pursuits, and wasn't exactly the fulfillment of her dreams. Actually, she wasn't quite sure what she wanted out of life just yet, but it was neither here nor there. She had plenty of time to think about it. In the meantime, right now she together with her colleagues had Perx dolled up in hearts and rainbows. She was excited thinking about where Howie might take her and what they might do together a week from tonight. He was full of surprises. She liked him so much.

"Hey there."

She looked up to see an attractive light brunette girl she half-recognized as a semi-regular patron smiling at her.

"Oh, hi. Uh...did you enjoy your coffee?"

"Immensely." The girl batted her eyes at her flirtatiously.

A small red flag went up in Shelly's mind as she recognized this sign of particularly fond friendliness. She peeled her eyes off the girl and took a dishrag, wiping the counter down and going over receipts, whatever she could to avoid teasing this pretty lass back. Innocently flirting was okay as far as she was concerned, but she wasn't sure she trusted herself to let it stop there.

The girl took a step towards her. "I, uh...I don't know if you've noticed, but, I drop in here every now and then. But, um..." She added with a smirk, "Not just for the coffee."

Uh-oh...

"Shelly," said the girl, reading her nametag. "That's a cute name."

Oh, dear...

"Mine's Bonnie. Bonnie Cutler."

Just be cordial and professional. Keep it appropriate. The customer is always right.

"Well, thank you, Bonnie, it's very nice to meet you," Shelly smiled politely. "I'm glad you liked the coffee."

Bonnie nodded, leaning on one elbow against the counter. "Y'know, I'm, eh...something of a night owl," she explained in a seductive voice. "May I ask when your shift ends, Miss Shelly? I presume it's Miss?" she added, gesturing to Shelly's naked hands.

Shelly sometimes lied when she got nervous. "Oh, gosh, I dunno, it could be kinda late," she told Bonnie, as her supervisor Lora happened to be unluckily passing by. "I'm closing tonight, so, y'know..."

She of course knew full well what Lora said next.

"No, you're not, Shelly; you're off in four minutes, goofy!"

She gave Lora a glare as she started away. "Thank you, Lora!..." she snapped through clenched teeth. "I must've forgotten that!"

"Oh, fantastic," said Bonnie, unaware of her discomfort or intentional dishonesty. "Maybe we could get a drink? Or a bite to eat?"

Shelly watched as Bonnie studied her up and down. For a moment it almost looked as if Bonnie were undressing her with her eyes...but she put that silly thought out of her mind and decided she was imagining things.

She considered her options. Obviously, she knew which one was right and which one was wrong, but things weren't always totally black and white with Shelly. Everywhere she went, she found herself surrounded by both male and female lovelies. This everpresent situation coupled with Shelly's oversized heart bursting with affection equaled a challenging love life. She learned at an early age of the monogamous nature of exclusive relationships, and thought zip of it at the moment. It wasn't until she grew up that she realized this monogamy thing was actually going to be a tough cookie for her to get down.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be faithful; on the contrary, nothing would make her happier. It was the steady barrage of unwelcome, unbidden thoughts of playing the field constantly slipping into her mind that she had trouble getting around. She didn't want or invite these adulterous itches to invade her peaceful life, they simply swam into her mind. When she was single there was no problem. But when she was attached or dating someone, she felt terrible for being still drawn to others, almost as if by force. Regardless of the circumstances, she felt herself essentially living her very own Temptation Island.

The last thing she wanted to be was a bad person, but she felt like one. She understood as long as she didn't cheat, she had nothing to feel guilty about, but did she ever have to work and struggle like mad to keep from doing so. Especially when flirted with. Oh, that flirting. It was just so intoxicatingly flattering. Shelly was a very cute girl, and there seemed to be no shortage of volunteers to tee up on her. She read some thoughts fellow web users posted online. Most seemed in agreement that while admiring others was human nature, and a little flirting or friendly touching was acceptable, outright cheating was out of bounds. Shelly couldn't agree more, but it was still not enough to suppress her stirrings. It didn't seem fair. Even if she left America and traveled halfway around the world to a new home where polygamy and harems were a conventional way of life, she still didn't think it would bring her true happiness.

She looked back up at Bonnie. Oh, gosh, is she cute! thought Shelly. I'd better not look at her.

Focusing on her counter maintenance, Shelly finally answered her request. "I, um...I'm sorry, I'm kinda more straight than gay."

"Oh! Well, if you change your mind, I love men too," Bonnie said with a wink. "And, I'm a try-sexual. Y'know what that means."

Shelly regarded her with arched eyebrows. For a second she thought, Whoa, you're a freak. But she retracted it, considering that she too was bisexual, and whenever the idea of a threesome crossed her mind before, she'd automatically dismissed it, seeing it as far too much of an automatic risk that could lead to any kind of God-knows-what. The very idea intimidated her enormously. And frankly, this hot girl—who looked maybe just a year or two younger than she—was having the same effect. Bonnie was throwing a sexy little fright into Shelly, and what was more, she liked it. And that was bad.

Shelly knew she was going to regret this, but she brought her eyes back up to Bonnie's face, and also studied her. She took in a long refreshing drink of this tall glass of sweet tea leaning on her counter...and something inside tickled.

UH-OH...

She knew this could and likely was going to lead to trouble, but she didn't know if she could resist this invitation...

Oh my gosh... This was an exceptional case, as while Shelly received her fair share of flirting, admirers more often than not assumed she was taken, and so she didn't actually get asked out quite that often. It was a relief she enjoyed, but it did not strengthen her will to resist when someone did ask.

And even so, she didn't imagine having such a problem saying no, but she also failed to anticipate the possibility of being courted by such a stunning piece of work as Miss Bonnie Cutler. The girl had a remarkable pulchritude—in fact, she looked like she had dolled herself up today specifically for Shelly's benefit—and she also had ample aggression to approach and set the wheels in motion. This was a dangerous combination. And it was sucking away Shelly's self-control to discard the very enticing offer. Fast.

I cannot believe I'm about to do this...I must be out of my ever-loving mind.

She took off her apron, tossed it to Lora in the back, clicked the cash register, threw all her stray trash away, flipped up the flap separating the customers from the personnel, and stepped out.

"So, eh...where do you wanna go?" she asked Bonnie, matching her flirting tone.

SHELly!! the faithful part of her mind berated her. What the hell?! What do you think you're doing?!

Hush, she thought back. I'm not gonna let it go too far or get outta hand. Leave me alone.

She was not immediately left alone. Listen to me—does the following name ring a bell?: Howie...Robert...Feldman??

Of freaking course it does. I told you already, I am not, going, to cheat on him.

***

February 10th, 4:06 p.m.

"I cannot, believe, I cheated on him."

Shelly sat in Vixie's office, sobbing her eyes out. She wanted to kill herself. It paralyzed her inside to realize that she really didn't have as much self-discipline as she thought. She'd succumbed to Bonnie Cutler's charms, and it was just as much her fault as Bonnie's. She could have just declined her invitation in the first place, but she hadn't.

And now it was too late to fix it or take it back.

WHY the hell did I not just tell her I had a boyfriend?? she demanded of herself. I'm sure she would've backed off if I just told her. What the fuck is wrong with me, for God's sake?! I'm a whore. I'm a cheating whore!

She felt an overwhelming urge to belt herself in the stomach or smack herself silly, but she couldn't do this. Ever since she was a little girl, Shelly had harbored a particularly low threshold for any sort of physical harm or pain. As a result, an injury the benign magnitude of, for example, striking her knee against the dresser, or stubbing her toe, would have the same effect on her as a grown woman as most others as a baby or small child. To this day, in her mid-20s, even so much as dropping half a gallon of milk on her bare foot could bring about a groaning shout in her and a small fit of tears.

She wasn't actually supposed to see Vixie until the following Monday, on the 17th, but after her escapade with Bonnie, she dialed Dr. Sharpe's office as soon as possible and begged for the earliest appointment she could get, insisting it was an emergency.

Dr. Vixie Sharpe sat and listened as Shelly spilled her guilty guts. Personally, she wanted to feel sympathy for her, but as her therapist, she had to maintain a minimum degree of impartiality. So she had to merely sit and ask her questions about this terrible act, as Shelly wet down one of the couch pillows with her tears.

"Now, Shelly, did you have sex with this person?"

She nodded, face in the pillow. "As much as we could," came her muffled voice. "It was a girl, so we scissored and used our hands."

"I see. And what kinds of thoughts were going through your mind while this was going on?"

Shelly sniffled, wiping her nose. "I was thinking...oh gosh, this feels amazing, but...why am I doing it? Howie loves me...and it's like I'm...I'm..." She stifled her next sob. "...Like I'm tossing our relationship in the dumpster. I'm...I'm just so ashamed of myself."

"Did you tell this girl about your relationship with Howie?" was the next thing Vixie wished to know.

Shelly hung her head defeatedly with a toss of the hands. "No! Of course not! I could've, at any point...but apparently, a chance for a little excitement with somebody new is vastly more important than a committed relationship to a pig like me!" she grumbled.

"Oh, now, don't call yourself a pig."

"You're right; I don't deserve to be called a pig. Pigs are beautiful. I'm disgusting. Think of the ugliest thing you can, I'll be that."

"Shelly, would you say you and Howie are fully committed to each other?" Vixie asked.

"Well, I probably would've a couple days ago...now, not so much."

"Would he?"

Shelly thought a moment. "I wanna presume he would," she considered, "But I guess I can't know for sure."

Vixie pointed a single finger at her. "That's what you must find out," she advised. "In the meantime, if you're interested...this is a little unorthodox, Shelly, but I do happen to have a 100% guaranteed way to make sure you definitely do not cheat on him again."

"Oh, that'd be so great," Shelly sighed with a modicum of relief. "Not that I deserve to be forgiven, but what is it?"

Vixie stood from her chair. "Just a couple secs, and I'll grab it for ya."

She opened the door to her storage closet and rummaged for those few secs before locating what she had in mind. She turned back around and handed it to Shelly. "Here y'are, my dear."

What Shelly held in her hand was a bizarre-looking contraption made of wide leather straps. She hadn't seen anything precisely like it before. While she had an idea or two, she wasn't entirely sure what this was, but she also already wasn't sure it was necessary.

She returned her drying eyes to Vixie.

"Um..."

"'S very simple, my young lady. That right there...is a chastity belt."

Words momentarily failed Shelly. She stared blankly at Vixie, blinking several times.

Once she realized Shelly had no verbal response to this presentation alone, Vixie explained on. "The way it works is simple: we slap a super absorbent pad on there, you put it on, I lock it, hide the key, you go home."

Shelly's repetitive, expressionless blinking required a bit more effort as her eyes widened. As all her mental faculties shifted to processing this, she was left with no attention for her facial muscles. Gravity took over and her mouth dropped ajar.

"That is, of course, should you choose to wear it," Vixie wrapped up. "The decision's entirely yours."

"You mean...I...won't be able to take it off?"

"That's correct."

"But...doesn't that mean I won't be able to..."

"You may not be able to masturbate, have vaginal intercourse or cunnilingus, no, but you can still please your boyfriend using other methods: manual, pedal, oral, et cetera. And the presence of the belt will remind you of the reason it's there, psychologically discouraging you from engaging in any inappropriate acts with someone other than Howie."

"...But...Dr. Vixie...doesn't that also mean I won't even be able to pee, for crying out loud?"

Vixie raised a finger, readjourned to the closet and returned with a box of extra-absorbent sanitary napkins. "Hence, the pad."

"But what happens after I...y'know...?"

"I'll provide you with a supply of spares. And we won't fasten the belt quite that tight. You won't be able to access the inside of your vagina, but you'll be able to slip out the pad when necessary and replace it with a clean one. You can let me know if you need more."

All these explanations sounded reasonable enough, but there was one obstacle Shelly couldn't seem to get around.

"Yeah, a'right, but...what do I tell Howie when he asks...?"

Vixie let out an empathetic closed-mouth sigh. "Yes, well, I'm afraid I can't help you there, Shelly. I shan't interfere on personal relationship matters that are just between you and him. Now if you wanted to bring him in to see me, I'd be more than happy to talk to the both of you together. But outside of this office, no go, I'm afraid. "That's why I'm not forcing you to wear it, but merely suggesting it as an option. I know it seems a little extreme, but it is an effective technique to suppress frequent powerful and unwanted sexual urges."

Shelly studied the belt. Frequent powerful and unwanted sexual urges...well, that was definitely her problem, right on the nose. Vixie was right about one thing, she thought: it did appear extreme. But it also seemed her concern regarding the belt was lessening.

"Has, eh...has this worked for other people?" Shelly asked.

"Beautifully," stated Vixie. "It's clearly not for everyone—and not for everyone to come out into the open with—but a few have even written testimonials detailing their success with it." She returned to the closet once more and emerged with a single periodical clipping. "If you want, I'll read you one. This is from a Faith Higgins in Flemings. She says..." She read.

"...'This device is a must for any woman suffering thoughts and tendencies of infidelity. It's not cumbrous, and it does exactly what it's meant to. Within one week of wearing it I felt my urges dying down. The confines fit snugly between the legs without pinching or digging into the skin. It takes some getting used to, but once you do, you hardly even notice it's there. That's how uncumbersome it is. And it's made me appreciate my relationship much more and not take my partner for granted. I recommend it to anyone."


Shelly-Shock Ch. 02



SS33: "Shelly-Shock II—Showdown"





Shelly-Shock Ch. 02



"That being said," she continued, rising and turning to the wall to flip on the overhead light, "What we're going to do now is begin to go over our possible suspects, and stack up this examination against your recent memory of events. And Shelly," added Claire as she sat back down, "Please do not be afraid to tell me anything that you may remember having happened even fairly recently, at any point. Remember, literally any piece of information can be a clue."

Shelly was nervous. Her heart was beating faster and faster as her brain processed things. She began to lose focus on the things Detective Jones was saying. She was not even so apprehensive about her trauma at this point, but Claire's memory test had effectively brought back several pieces of fresher history in her life. And one of those pieces was her therapist, Dr. Vixie Sharpe. And as she thought further, she remembered the reason she had sought out her counsel. And she began to feel sick.

She was certain it might help to mention her, and she didn't want to hold out on Claire, as it were, but she knew she wouldn't be able to bring up Dr. Sharpe without explaining to Howie who she was and why she was seeing her. She supposed she could've made up some story, but she didn't like lying and wasn't good at it. Her attempts at lies were pathetically transparent. And the idea of telling him the truth made her nauseous. Yet she also knew she couldn't keep this a secret forever. And she knew Claire could use all the help Shelly could give her. It was quite the proverbial pickle in which she'd suddenly found herself. Her only quarter-eaten scone sat on the small dish in front of her with a fate of neglect. Her appetite was gone.

The logical voice in her mind urged her to just come out with it. To just purge herself. Even if you start crying your eyes out, she heard herself thinking, It needs to come out. You're not helping anyone by keeping it inside. And if Howie's heart is broken or he leaves you, so be it. He might scream at you, he might curse at you, he might even strike you, but Shelly, you have to bring it out, and let the chips fall where they will. You must tell them the truth. It's the right thing to do. Consequences aside, at the very least you won't be tormented by the burden of keeping it secret anymore.

Unbeknownst to her by this point, Claire was going on. "Now, what I've got here is some dossier info on these potential suspects. I know information alone won't help you, but I do also have some photographs and rough police sketches. If any of these looks familiar in the least, let me know," she said.

Shelly shyly raised her hand. "Uh, actually, Detective," she cut in, her voice squeaking, dreadfully awaiting the inevitable, "I-I just remembered, there is something I didn't tell you, as it turns out...something kinda...big."

Claire nodded. "Outstanding. Go right ahead."

Shelly looked down, trying to keep her voice audible enough to be heard. "Um..." she stammered, "For the, uh...last several months or so, I've been going to see a therapist." She shut her eyes. "Her name's Dr. Vixie Sharpe."

Claire's eyebrows rose. "I see," she noted, returning to the laptop document and typing.

"You've been going to a shrink?" Howie turned to ask, just as Shelly knew he would. "What for, hon? Is everything okay?"

Shelly trembled. "Uh...no, it's not." She felt tears coming on. "This isn't just any normal therapist. She's a sex therapist."

"A sex therapist?" Shelly could practically echo the words coming from Howie's mouth. "Why are you seeing a sex therapist? I know you haven't been wanting to make love a lot lately, but if I'm doing something wrong, Shel, please, let me know."

Shelly dropped her face into her hands. A faint whimper was her only reply. A moment later she felt her boyfriend rubbing her back. "Honey, what's the matter?" he asked. His unawareness of the situation squeezed the first tears out of both eyes.

What now?? she asked herself.

Spill it, her mind answered. Just spill it. It's the only way out now. Come on, Shel. Woman up. Talk.

She removed her hands and wiped her moist eyes. "Howie..." she sniffled. "Detective...I have something to tell you...and...it's bad," she warned them. "Really, really bad."

Howie's eyebrows arched in alarm. "Well, sweetie, for God's sake, how bad can it be?" he asked. "Did you...rape someone?"

"Um...no, but..." Shelly sniffled again. "Howie...you, eh...you remember, some...however long ago it was, when I asked you if...or, how you might feel about...having a...threesome, one day?"

It was Claire's turn to raise her eyebrows. Howie sheepishly removed his hand from her back and blushed just a touch. The detective felt the atmosphere tinged with a dose of awkwardness. She kind of wanted to ask them if they wished to be alone for a minute, sensing there was more going on here. But unfortunately, she was unable to do that until Shelly'd totally come clean.

Howie cleared his throat. "Mmm...yeah," he eventually agreed.

"Well..." Shelly continued tearfully, "There was a reason I asked you that."

Claire and Howie silently awaited the rest of the story.

"I, eh..." Shelly blinked repeatedly, lightly catapulting multiple tears onto her nose and cheeks. "I asked you that, to...um..." She covered her eyes once more. "...To alleviate my guilt...for...for cheating on you...with a girl."

Hands on her wet face, Shelly dropped her head and wept. The room was draped in silence, except for the sound of Shelly sobbing. Howie's blood chilled and his heart rate doubled, trying to process, hoping he had heard wrong or misunderstood. He was trying not to let this revelation sink in so his heart would stay in one piece. He anxiously gnawed on his nails and sank his teeth into his bottom lip, anything to distract his mind from what Shelly'd just said. Claire found herself lost in an unfamiliar moment of not knowing what to say or do right now. Now she really did feel obligated to give them some time to themselves.

Claire slowly pushed herself up from her chair. "Uh, please excuse me for just a bit, kids," she tactfully requested. "I'll give you a few moments; I need to adjourn to the facilities..."

She slipped out of the room. She wasn't exactly fibbing; she really did have to use the bathroom, but she thought she would thoroughly take her time now. This news was startling to her as well, and while it didn't directly affect her firsthand, she felt thrown off her game by it nonetheless. She could only imagine what was happening inside Shelly's and Howie's minds.

In her study, no further words had ensued until a few minutes later, when Howie finally asked, "...What did you say?"

Shelly shook her head, face blocked by her palms. "I'm so sorry, Howie..."

Howie's breath came out in uneasy sighs. He wasn't sure what to say, do or feel. "Well, wh—" He searched for words. He stood from his seat and paced about the room. "A girl? I-I..." Dozens of questions were pushing and shoving at the forefront of his mind, fighting to be first out. For half a second he hoped this could be a really unfunny three weeks-late April Fools' joke. But no one would be crying like this over such a thing. "But...why? Shelly, wh—I-I don't get it! Did I...did I do something to you? Did I not do something? Or...are you gay? Is this your way of telling me you can't go on with me anymore 'cause you're a lesbian?"

Well, there was a possible loophole, actually. If she wanted an easier way out of this, Shelly could have clung to this speculation, bent the truth a little and asserted to him that she was now officially and only homosexual, but...it wasn't true. She simply knew it wasn't—she was bisexual, and that was all to it there was. No. She wouldn't take the easy way out.

She raised her gaze, removing her face from her hands, but she couldn't look at him. "No," she shook her head. "I'm still bi."

"Then...what is going on?" Howie held out his hands. "What did I do wrong??"

"Nothing!"

"Shelly, it must have been something, for God's sake! Did I...di—..." He took a breath. "Is it because she's a girl?"

"No, How—"

"Because she can give you something I can't? Because she knows your body and your needs better than I do?"

"NO! Howie, please!"

"Shelly, I...I thought you l—"

He sighed and turned his back to her.

"You said you loved me."

"I d—" Shelly began to insist that she did, but if she were to be totally honest, she had to question that sentiment. There was no earthly justification for cheating on one's mate or significant other—none, zero, nil—exclamation point. If she truly, honestly loved the man, with every fiber of her being and everything that she was...this wouldn't have happened.

Shelly wiped her eyes and said the only honest thing that came to her mind. "I...I thought I still did, Howie...I just...I want more than anything right now to say I still do, but...I don't get to say that; all I have the right to say is I want to love you, but...I don't deserve you. You need someone faithful. Honest to God, Howie, I...I don't know why I did this to you.

"Except to say that I am, essentially, slime," she concluded. "I'm a cheater. I still need help with this, Howie. That's why I've been seeing this therapist. I wanna be a good person. I don't wanna hurt you or me or anyone else like this ever again."

For several moments, no one said anything, until Shelly finally dared to call out to him in a hushed voice.

"H—...Howie?"

Howie could tell she was begging for forgiveness, but he didn't think he could turn around just now. The only thing that kept his heart from shattering into a trillion sand-like grains was his curiosity of the circumstance. He reasoned there had to be a logical explanation for this, despite what Shelly'd just told him. He was in mental denial of the possibility that Shelly would simply have been with another person—gender regardless—of her own free will and sound mind. He could only believe he must have done something that either directly or indirectly drove Shelly into this other girl's arms.

He put his arm on the wall for support. Shelly saw him tremble and heard a weep escape him.

Her own heart imploded all over again. She jumped up from her seat. "Oh, Howie!" she cried, hugging him from behind. She knew he might wring himself out of her embrace, smack her arms away or display any number of even more severe reactions, but these were risks she was willing to take. "Howie, please don't cry!" she pleaded.

She didn't know what to expect next, but she instantly regretted asking him not to cry. He was entitled to any emotions he was feeling right now, but Shelly didn't think she could handle him crying. But the next thing Howie did was completely unexpected. To Shelly's insurmountable amazement and utter awe, he turned around and hugged her back.

She gasped. In a hundred years she couldn't have imagined this. Was he actually forgiving her? She was scared to ask, but she also very much wanted to know. If he was willing to give her another chance, she was willing to treat him like the king of her heart for the rest of their lives. But she didn't get the chance to find out. Just then, the detective reentered the room.

Seeing them embraced, Claire smiled. "Well, whether you two've made up or not, I'm glad you're hugging, at least," she said, resuming her seat and placing a box in front of Shelly. "I sensed you could use some tissues. Now then, Shelly," said Claire, "I'm sorry to hear about your misfortune, and if you're not emotionally prepared to continue, we can pick this up at another point."

Shelly sniffled, whipping a couple soft sheets from the box and loudly blowing her nose. She gave another sniff, blinked away her tapering-off tears and cleared her throat. "I'm-I'm sorry, Detective...I'm a big crybaby. But, I'll be okay. We can keep going."

"Excellent. Well, then, next I'd like to ask a few questions about your therapist, if I may. First of all, where's her office?"

"Um, let me see..." Shelly thought. "...7629 Crestview Highway, I...think..." She gave a small shrug. "That's probably it, anyway. I kinda just know the way to her place. After I found it the first time, I didn't pay much attention to the address."

"Okay, well, we can always look it up if necessary. Now, what part of town is that in?"

"Dunfair."

"All right, good, good," said Claire. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"Uh...gosh..." Shelly laid her hand on her forehead, which was beginning to ache again, just as it had early that morning.

"Would you like some water?" she heard Detective Jones ask her.

She nodded. "Yes. Please."

Claire had Camilla bring her a glass of nice cold H2O, and Shelly downed it like she was dehydrated.

"Shelly, if you need a short break, you can go and lie on the couch in the den," Claire advised her.

"No, no, I'll be okay," Shelly said. "That water really helped."

"Okay, good, then. So, can you remember your last appointment with your therapist?"

"Uh...I normally see her on Mondays, so...actually, it was probably yesterday," Shelly realized.

Claire's eyebrows arched again. "Aha. The plot thickens a bit," she commented. "So yesterday, you would have been in Dunfair, around...what time are your appointments normally?"

"...Usually at 4:00."

"Good. That possibly narrows down my list. Now think, Shelly. Can you remember anything else about yesterday whatsoever? About your appointment, about your daily agenda? Anything at all?"

Shelly's face went muddled as she tried to concentrate. Meanwhile, a thought popped into Howie's head.

He raised his hand. "May I jump in here for a second?"

Claire held out a hand to ask Shelly if that was okay, at which Shelly nodded eagerly.

"By all means, then," said Claire. "Have at me. You've got something?"

"Well, maybe." He turned to Shelly. "Shel, didn't you tell me your car suddenly was missing today, and you had no idea why?"

She let out a gasp. "Yes! That's right!" Shelly whipped her gaze back to Claire. "Detective, I have no idea where my car is!"

Claire chuckled. "I love amnesia cases," she said. "New pieces of info every so often. I'm not making light of your situation, Shelly, not at all," she quickly added. "This just happens to be very fascinating to me, all the random elements going on here.

"So, you were in Dunfair yesterday...at your therapy appointment...and I'm presuming you went alone?"

"Pretty sure, yeah...Howie's never come with me, today's the first he's heard of it, so I've clearly been at every session alone."

"Aha," said Claire. "And so you obviously had your car with you. And Dunfair, as you may or may not know, is a county rife with crazy law enforcement. You so much as look at someone the wrong way there, boom! Curtains. So, speculations are, maybe you unknowingly parked illegally, and your car got towed while you were inside. Now, if that's what happened, we can certainly look into the towing situation in Dunfair later on, and I should be able to get your car back for you then."

"Wow, you would do that?" Howie asked her. "That's so nice!"

"Yeah, thank you!" agreed Shelly.

"Not at all. But for right now, I wanna keep focusing on our case, if that's all right. Now, going with our theory that you were at therapy, and then when you came back out your car was gone, the big question is...what happened next?"

Shelly tried to think, but again helplessly shook her head. "I really don't know. I honestly don't. I can't remember!"

Claire held up her hands harmlessly. "That's okay," she assured her calmly. "It's okay, Shelly; that's what I'm here for. We are going to figure this out together, I promise you. Don't fret; you're in good hands here."

Shelly relaxed. "Thank you so much," she repeated.

"You're welcome. All right, so we've reached a temporary impasse with this piece of the puzzle, so let's put that aside for the moment and concentrate on our, eh...Academy Award winners here," Claire quipped, turning to her narrowed list of suspects in the Dunfair area. "Now Shelly, this may seem scary, but again, I'm gonna need you to be brave. Remember, these are only pictures and descriptions. You're one hundred percent safe with me. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Okay?"

She proceeded to show the girl a series of profiles of suspects based in and around Dunfair, and each one seemed less familiar than the last. After shaking her head obliviously for what felt like the fiftieth time, they had reached the last one.

"All right, just one more remaining," said Claire. "This lady here's pretty elusive, and not much is known about her, including her given birth name. We call her Jane Doe, because she goes by so many aliases..." She paused as she read aloud some of the pseudonyms used by the suspect. "...Tess Dunbar, Denise Singleton, Rosie Scarlet..." She shook her head with a wry chuckle. "We think most recently she's been going by Adrienne Turner, but no one knows her real handle for sure. What we do know is that she's been accused of the malicious misbehavior of posing as a scientist, in order to lure in victims to trap and torture, in her exotic, psychotic ways. Anyway..." She held up the photo to show Shelly. "...Ring any bells?"

Shelly leaned in to focus on the facial features once more, and was met this final time with a strange, unpleasant feeling of queasiness. As she stared into this woman's cold black-and-white eyes, something clicked in her brain. Her memory switch was activated, and her own eyes grew and widened in fright as terrifying recognition set in.

"Oh my God..." she whispered. "That...she..." She began quivering. As Howie and Claire regarded her reaction, she grasped the ends of her chair's armrests—not entirely unlike the way she did so in a much different chair twenty-four hours before—and pushed herself to her feet with an abrupt, terrified scream that bordered on a bawling cry, scurrying behind the chair.

Howie turned his concerned wide eyes to Claire. "...I think we have a winner, Detective."

Claire zeroed in on Shelly's fear-dilated pupils. "Shelly...do you know this person?"

Shelly returned the detective's intrigued expression and nodded. "I do! I do know her! I've-I've seen her...but...oh my gosh, I can't remember where! But...I..." She brought her voice down to a whisper. "...I think she was in my nightmares last night!"

The corners of Claire's mouth curled up into a triumphant smirk.

"Fuckin'-A."





Shelly-Shock Ch. 02



"Now, Shelly, keep in mind, hon," Claire said to her, "If anything else looks familiar to you at all, please do speak up."

Claire was putting on a bit of a brave front for the security of the kids, and she was indeed tough as nails, but deep inside, she was a little apprehensive of this confrontation—a healthy apprehension though it was. She hadn't been lying about the literally hundreds of bad guys she'd subdued in her career, but one of the most important lessons she'd learned early on was to never even think about getting cocky or overconfident. After several victories, it was increasingly easy to begin letting her guard down and underestimating opponents. And these were indiscretions which an adversary could sense and take potential advantage of.

They took their time down Crestview Highway, until Shelly pointed and announced, "There's my therapy office."

Claire got on her radio and communicated to the patrol unit they were pulling over for the moment. They took a short time-out in front of the building so Shelly could think back and attempt to retrace her steps. Now that she had been thinking more about it, she remembered being very sleepy in the appointment and coming out to find her car gone. Now having recollected this much, she thought she should be able to retrace a little further, so she closed her eyes and concentrated hard.

"I...don't think anyone was left inside, so I didn't know what to do," she half-guessed and half-remembered. "Then, I...seem to recall...eh..." She sighed, shutting her eyes and tapping her forehead. "C'mon, think, Shel!"

"Forgive me for stepping in," said Claire, "But, you obviously met our friend at some point last night—likely around this time, and she took you off to do with you as she would. Now what, if anything, can you recall about the journey to her destination?"

"Ummm..." Shelly pursed her lips and shut her eyes tight until something clicked. "OH!" she exclaimed, eyes popping back open. "I do remember something! I don't know how I just flashed on this, but right when we got to...wherever we were going, I happened to look around and saw something weird. It was a...I think, like, a fast food restaurant, and it had this sign up, and one of the words was spelled wrong...or at least it didn't make sense. I...I think it said...'Now that's...letter.'" She shrugged.

They thought about it for a second, before Claire picked up on it and snapped her fingers, pointing to Shelly.

"'Now that's letter'?...Fast food...'better!'" she corrected. "Wendy's' slogan! Whoever put the sign up was obviously preoccupied by finding the right letters, and already having letters in mind, and mistook the 'l' for the 'b.'"

"Wendy's?" said one of the officers. "Well, it's gotta be the one on Donaldson Road."

"That's right," added the other. "'S the only one in even remote walking distance from here."

The first officer took over. "So if she saw the sign right when they'd arrived, it must've been the old McArthur warehouse."

"The one on the corner of Donaldson and Cherrywood Street," said the second.

"That's the one," confirmed the first.

Claire beamed with an enthusiastic clap of the hands. "Excellent! Brilliant work, Shelly!" she praised. "Let's roll!"

It took them barely another three minutes to go around the corner to the warehouse. Shelly got a chill again in the presence of the frightening, colorless edifice and the bare, unleafed oak out in front. Claire and the officers were pumped. However, one concern captured Shelly's attention for the first time the evening.

"...What if she's not there?" she asked.

"We stake out the place," Claire answered. "This is what we do, Shelly. We have as much time as it takes. If need be, we can have a separate unit come to pick up you and Howie and take you home."

It needed not be. Not only was Adrienne there, what none of them knew was that she had stopped at nothing to lure, kidnap and torture yet another victim for her "experiment" this evening. For all the five of them knew, she took in new unsuspecting innocents every single day, abused them, drugged them and tossed them away like the refuse as which she regarded them. But what now to their wondering eyes did appear but the front door slipping open, and outside stepping Adrienne Turner herself. It was getting dark, but Shelly and Claire still recognized her white coat and black gloves in the glow of the streetlight.

"Oh my God, that's her!" cried Shelly, turning to bury her head in Howie's chest.

"She's coming out!" added Claire, grabbing her radio. "Suspect coming out, boys; off with the lights!"

Adrienne was heading back out to her van, which was fifty feet away, to grab a set of spare cables she needed. The rest of the street and intersection were all but abandoned. Camouflaged in the darkening night under a dormant streetlight, making sure they were parked in hidden seclusion with their headlights out, they quietly exited the cars. Claire determined her best and most direct course of action was to skulk up behind the oak and confront Adrienne when she turned to reenter the warehouse. When she saw Adrienne nearing her van, she called a quick meeting with the patrol officers.

"Radio for backup and watch the kids, boys. I'm going in solo first. I want this gal."

"Jones, it's too dangerous!" one objected.

"The hell it is. Read my lips: I...WANT...her."

The authority in her tone came through loud and clear, and the officers complied, doing as she asked. Adrienne reached the van and threw open the side door. Claire pocketed her walkie-talkie, drew her pistol and stealthily shadowed towards the oak as Adrienne was distracted retrieving her cables. Controlling her respiration in paced, noiseless breaths, she casted a glance around from the tree to view Adrienne still rifling through the back of the van.

Her walkie-talkie quietly buzzed. "Backup has been radioed for, on its way," one of the officers reported.

"Roger," Claire whispered. She inhaled, weapon at the ready, finger on the trigger, and crept out from behind the oak, following its shadow on the diagonal, inching nearer.

Adrienne located the cables and slid the van door shut. Just as she turned back, Claire made her move.

Click.

"Freeze, Turner!"

Adrienne whipped her gaze in the direction of the command to see a figure in the shadow. She instinctively knew who it was. She recognized the voice by so much as the two words. And she knew that she would find her one day, and so she'd been prepared. Undaunted, she smirked wickedly, approaching the spirited detective.

"Well, well..." she remarked, as if the whole encounter was perfectly casual. "At last we meet, Jones."

Claire returned her smirk with a snarl of her lips.

"Gotcha, bitch."

Adrienne knew Claire wouldn't fire—if she was armed and loaded to begin with. Her intimidation was minimal. Her only answer to Claire's victorious declaration was a sardonic chuckle as she surreptitiously placed her hand in her lab coat pocket.

"Don't bother trying to run, Turner," Claire appended. "It's over."

Adrienne grinned at her. "On the contrary," she growled under her breath. "I welcome the company."

With that, and without another word or second wasted, Adrienne whipped out her 800K-volt taser, finger ready and steady on the button, took split-second aim and shot.

Claire's brain told her lightning-quick reflexes to kick into gear immediately. She dove from the taser's path into a somersault, tracing a 70° angle to the side between her and Adrienne. She began to reclaim footing as Adrienne pursued. No time to stand, Claire hit the dirt, swept her foot and kicked Adrienne's leg from under her with just enough force to knock her off balance.

Adrienne was upended and joined Claire on the ground, landing on her back. The blow propelled the taser from her grasp. Claire scrambled on top of her, wrestling and holding her down with all her might. She couldn't take aim at her with both arms being occupied, holding on to Adrienne's wrists, so she threatened her verbally.

"Give it up, Turner!" she hollered. "You're surrounded!"

"You're bluffing, Jones. You know it, and I know it."

Claire arched her eyebrows with her returning snarl. "Oh?!" she counter-challenged. "Two more minutes, and my backup might have something to say about that!"

Adrienne abruptly grinned defiantly and sinisterly up at her. "Backup, you say?! Tell them the following!"

She sent her right knee up from the ground with blinding ferocity, directly into Claire's undefended crotch.

"OHHHHH!!" Wind temporarily knocked out of her, Claire was forced to relinquish her grip. "FUCK!" she moaned in distressed agony. Her face contorted into searing pain. As her hand went to grab hold of herself, Adrienne followed up the attack and flung Claire off of her. Her gun was tossed in the opposite direction.

Claire saw blood in her eyes. The shooting ache was unreal. In the twenty-something years of her professional career catching and fighting bad guys, she wasn't sure she remembered a single instance one of them had gone right for her vagina. She grabbed and squeezed it with both hands, trying to soothe the fiery anguish. Her pussy was metaphorically kicking her ass. She didn't know what actual hell felt like, but somehow, this literally hurt like it.

Meanwhile, Shelly and Howie were watching the struggle while being guarded by the patrol officers. Shelly was petrified for Claire's life, and Howie wasn't far behind her. The two officers were concerned as well, but they had backup on the way and they were under orders to protect Shelly and Howie. But something was about to throw a big wrench into the arrangement.

When she saw Adrienne's knee go into Claire's groin, something snapped inside Shelly. Suddenly, everything from the last night came crystal-clear. Suddenly, she remembered every single last detail. Suddenly, she remembered the restraint chair, the cold, rusted metal cuffing mechanisms on her skin, the electrodes pinching and shocking her all over...

...And she remembered the chastity belt severed from her body so her own vagina could be penetrated with an electric prod.

Torture...suffering...

Relentless terror.

All of a sudden, it was all right back at the forefront of her mind.

When Shelly Powell registered that knee slamming into her protectress' vagina, she felt the pain shoot through Claire and telepathically zap her. She felt the scorching anguish engulf her all over again.

And Claire was still reeling in pain...and Adrienne was getting back to her feet...

...And snatching Claire's gun.

And Shelly's eyes saw blood.

Adrienne's back was to them as her shadow settled and loomed over Claire. Her eyes opened to pool with horror. The dreadful reality dawned. She had lost. For good. She had virtually never lost before. But in this one anomalous instance in twenty-plus years of detective work, her foe had seized the upper hand. The battle and the war were Adrienne's. Backup had not arrived in time, and the officers were powerlessly watching over Shelly and Howie, as per her own orders. Everything passed before Claire's dizzied gaze as she heard the doomful words coming from above.

"Worry no more, Detective..." Adrienne leered, "...For you're about to be relieved of duty..."

All hell inside Shelly broke loose. Suddenly, no officer, boyfriend or anything else was going to hold her back. She broke through between the officers like a bullet, obliviously ignoring the ensuing outbursts and objections they hurled running after her, and sprinted full-force at Adrienne at the sound of the final threatening word.

"...Permanently."

"NOOOOOO!!" Shelly howled like a banshee, out of her mind with crazed rage, winging herself at Adrienne—

And tackling her with superhuman strength.

The gun went off as she made contact. Adrienne's aim was thrown only slightly off by the blow. Claire's hands left her crotch and she reflexively crossed her arms over her head...and to her amazement, she didn't die.

Shelly took Adrienne down, found the hand clutching the gun and bit it ferociously, sinking her teeth into the skin like a vampire famished for blood. She had the advantage, and Adrienne yelled and screamed for release, finally forced to drop the gun. This gave Claire the necessary few moments to get back to her feet and nab back the weapon.

"Spectacular work, Shelly—now get the hell OUT of here before you get hurt!" Claire exclaimed.

Her words clearly out of caring, Shelly did as she was told. While the officers burst onto the scene along with the girl, one of them had grabbed the taser Adrienne made the mistake of leaving. Claire motioned him. "Put her out!" she commanded.

One second later, Adrienne had no idea what hit her.





Shelly-Shock Ch. 02



"Now, I'll ask again," Claire said, condescendingly pacing her words. "You promise to behave?"

Adrienne had no choice. She nodded. "Outstanding," Claire replied, rewarding her by carefully removing the tape. "Now then, the first question I'd like to ask you is..." She quickly turned back to Shelly and Howie to put her finger to her lips, throwing them the universal "quiet" signal. Again, she returned her attention to Adrienne. "...Where might that little battery of yours be?"

This was why she had instructed the kids to be silent. They had heard the officer announce that they had in fact found the battery and were in the process of deconstructing it. Already with it in their possession, Claire was interrogating Adrienne of its whereabouts merely to mess with and torment her, and for really no other purpose.

Adrienne cleaned up the profane language, but offered no further concessions. "Forget it, Jones. You'll never make me talk."

"Oh, is that so?" Claire put the tape back over her mouth. "Well then, there's no point in allowing you to do so, now is there..." She changed her mind. "Actually, this one's losing its adhesion. Just a sec, Turner." She tore another piece, replacing the first.

Adrienne's only answer was predictable and routine. The next thing she heard Claire say was, "Hm...wonder what kind of reaction this gets then?" The next thing she knew, her left breast and nipple were treated to the terrible tase. Unleashing another epic scream, Adrienne tried to leap out of her skin, thrashing and stamping her feet the tiny bit she could manage.

"Ooooh!" Claire laughed, whapping her back to life yet again. "A good one!"

Shelly couldn't help it. She laughed right along with her.

"Oh, that karma, she is one fickle bitch, isn't she, Turner??" Claire commented in a syrupy voice. "Now let's try this again." Subsequently turning her tone abruptly hostile, she again ripped the tape off Adrienne's mouth, earning herself yet one more moan of anguish out of her, grabbed her by the chin, leaned down on her, and upped her verbal ante.

"Where's the fucking BATTERY?!"

Adrienne remained silent.

"Still not talking, huh?" Claire presented her with a few quick random zaps, in the armpit, the ribcage, the thigh, the hip, the other breast. This time they were privileged with the sight of Adrienne's uncovered mouth screaming for mercy and relief. Claire waited until her electrified body stopped vibrating and again seized Adrienne's chin, vigorously shaking her, dribbling foaming saliva onto her hand. She sprinkled in some nice humiliation, and added her own saliva, spitting on her, directly on the nose.

"How about now?!"

"Ifs infwide gahdammit!" Adrienne at last squeaked, lips smooshed in Claire's grip. "Ih my hwab!"

Claire grinned wickedly at her. "Oh, really?" she chuckled, rubbing it in. "Gee, I thought you said I could never make you talk! Huh?" She gave Adrienne the same few moderate smacks on the cheeks as she had waking her from her tased comas. "Huh??"

Adrienne shook her chiding hand away. "Fuck off, Jones. A'right, fine, you won. So what're you gonna do now, take me in?"

"Oh, that won't be necessary just yet, Turner. First we've got a little unfinished business to tend to. You see, we actually had the battery from the beginning. Our boys have been in the lab disarming it this whole time."

Adrienne furiously yanked on the ropes holding her to the tree. "WHAT?!"

"That's right," Claire affirmed with satisfaction. "So that little shockfest was...well, for nothing but fun, really."

Logically, Adrienne flew into a rage. "...YOU MOTHERFU—!"

Claire slapped the tape back over her mouth.

"Well, okay, not really nothing," she amended. "That was a little something we in the business like to call 'payback,' Turner. And it is with this in mind that I now turn you over to someone who'd like to say hello."

For the first time in over twenty-four hours, Shelly felt calm, content and in control. She had helped the detective capture their villain. The huntress became the prey, and in the process, Shelly had also saved Claire's life! True, she was out of her gourd in the moment, she didn't know what she was doing, but nevertheless, she herself had indeed rerouted that bullet from that gun. She'd rescued Claire, and now Claire and her team had subdued one of the biggest, longstanding targets of their work in years. Right now, it seemed to Shelly there was nothing they couldn't do together. Virtually anything appeared possible.

She approached Adrienne, stroking a single fingertip from her sternum down between her breasts to her belly, making the woman squirm from her touch. "Hello, Miss Turner. Remember me?"

Adrienne was silent.

"Oh!" Shelly giggled. "Of course, it must be a little hard to answer with that tape over your mouth. Detective, would you...?"

Claire smiled and ripped the tape off.

"My name is Shelly, Miss Turner," she told Adrienne. "Shelly Powell. You remember? Twenty-four hours ago, I was sitting in your building, naked, tied up, blindfolded...?...Hm, actually, almost how you look right now, in a way."

"Bit of a coincidence indeed," Claire chimed in. "I'd say at the very least this lady owes you an apology, yes?"

Adrienne gritted her teeth in humiliation, but she knew this would only get worse unless she cooperated.

She forced herself to croak out the words. "As you wish..." She paused to sigh. "I...apologize. Now let me the hell out of here!"

Claire and Shelly guffawed. "'Let me the hell out of here'?!" Claire repeated. "You know, Turner, if I didn't know better, I would think you actually expected us to do that!"

"Yeah, no," Shelly agreed. "I, uh...I think I need a little more than that, Miss Turner."

Adrienne growled under her breath once more. "A THOUsand apologies, Miss POWELL," she snapped, biting off each word.

"Oh, no, no, I'm sorry, Miss Turner, maybe I misled you," Shelly said, thoroughly enjoying and relishing the fun of messing and toying with Adrienne, just as Claire had been earlier. "You see, I didn't mean 'more' as in a stronger apology."

Shelly wanted to have some fun of her own variety. She wanted to "play." She illustrated her point by tweaking and playing with Adrienne's nipples, for starters. Adrienne again tried to wriggle away from her. Shelly responded by smacking and tossing her breasts about, making her emit small whines and outcries of protest. She let her hands go walking further along Adrienne's 5'8" frame, doing anything she could think of to annoy her: prodding, pinching, groping, slapping, tickling, flicking, spanking...

"Oh my gosh, look, her nipples are hard!" Shelly laughed. She playfully diddled Adrienne's erect nipples with her index fingers, punctuating the embarrassment with a high-pitched, "Dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee!!"

"AAAHH—GOD—FUCKI—STOPPIT!" Adrienne screeched, doing anything she could to avoid this circus of teasing irritation.

"Not yet, mean lady," Shelly answered. "I wanna hear you really beg. I wanna hear the magic word. I wonder if your coochie's as ticklish as your boobies!" Not giving her any time to register this thought or brace herself, Shelly dug her fingers into Adrienne's crotch and tickled the hell out of her vagina. "Gitchie-gitchie-gitchie-gitchie-gitchie!!" she teased.

"AAAAAAHHHHPLEEEEEEEASESTOP!!" Adrienne screamed like a five-year-old girl.

Shelly gasped. "Oh my gosh, she's getting wet!" she told Claire. She took a second out to slap Adrienne across the face with her vaginal discharge. "You are such a pervert!" she laughed. "This is fun, huh?! Hey, Miss Turner, you want a Hertz Donut?"

Before Adrienne had time to say, "...A what?" Shelly took a fist and winged her sideways with it, smack in the gut.

"UHHHH!" Adrienne groaned.

"'Hertz,' Don'ut?" Shelly chortled, prompting some accompanying laughter from Claire.

"Okay, kiddo," said Claire, in a tone that led Adrienne to believe things were about to be ended. "I think playtime's over."

"Aw," said Shelly.

"Yup," sighed Claire. "Looks like it's about time to wrap it up. Don't you worry, though, Turner, we'll make sure to give you a nice cell with some nice roommates that won't make life too rough for ya. Yep, gotta be fair after all."

While all this was going on, Howie had begun talking to one of the officers, who was picking up Adrienne's clothing which Claire'd whipped off her and tossed on the ground. He found a wallet in one of the pockets. "Well, this all needs to be run in," he told Howie, hurrying off. But a minute after he did so, Howie noticed something shiny and plastic had tumbled out of the wallet.

"Oh, uh, sir, you dropped someth—" he started to call out, but the officer had already left earshot.

"What's up, Howie?" asked Claire.

"Oh...this fell out of the wallet," said Howie, handing her the item. Claire inspected it.

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "Well, I'll be damned! Excellent work, Howie!" she said, giving him a congratulatory smack on the arm.

"What happened?" Shelly wanted to know.

"It would seem we've happened upon our friend here's, uh...driver's license," Claire sang to Adrienne in a mocking tone.

Adrienne gasped. "Hey! No! No! L-leave that alone! Don't look at that!"

"Oh, well, I was gonna leave it alone, actually, but now that you've told us to, of course, we have to look at it, don't we, Turner??" Claire stated matter-of-factly, having a look. "Or, as your identification claims as your real name—"

She couldn't read it out loud just yet. She had to blow a raspberry first. Adrienne was already turning red. Claire showed the kids. None of them would normally make fun of someone's real name, but rules changed a bit in the case of an evil person.

"NO way!" said Howie.

"Oh my God, you're kidding me!" Shelly cracked up.

"WOW..." said Claire. "No wonder you've got so many pseudonyms...Myrtle, Ursula, Droiksbooth!"

Adrienne looked to the ground, gnashing her teeth inside her closed mouth.

"Seriously, is this for real??" asked Howie.

"That is a valid license! The Department of Motor Vehicles doesn't lie!" Claire rejoined.

"Okay, so wait," added Shelly. "Myrtle...Ursula...Droiksbooth...M.U.D??"

"That's right, my friends," Claire summed it all up, "The woman's name is MUD. Literally."

Shelly almost hit the dirt laughing.

"Oh-ho-ho, the girls in the pen are gonna have a field day with this!" exclaimed Claire. "Oh! Anyone have a cell phone?"

"I do," said Howie, producing his. "You wanna call someone?"

"Actually, no, Howie; I'd like you to get a shot of us with our friend here."

"Aha!" Howie laughed. "Okay, my pleasure!"

Claire and Shelly stood on either side of Adrienne and put their arms around her shoulders. "Okay, everybody say, 'Myrtle!'"

Click!

"Goody! The world's gonna love this baby!" Claire grinned, though she had no intention of sharing the photo; she just wanted to torment the woman. Not least but last, she winked at Shelly, finger to her lips, handed her the taser and pointed to Adrienne's vagina. "All right. Well, we really do have to roll. You're gonna have a ball at the station bare-ass naked, I'll tell you that.

"Oh, but, uh, Turner—er, 'scuse me; Myrtle...before we do that, there is just, eh...one more thing."

The degradation couldn't get any worse. "What."

Claire turned to the girl. "Shelly?"

"Oh, yes. Um, Myrtle...I asked you earlier if you remembered me, did I not? And, as I recall, you didn't say anything. And, uh, I also seem to recall...oh, that's right—I learned this from you, actually—that since you didn't say anything when I asked..."

She mimicked Adrienne's cold, calculating, emotionless tone.

"That answer...is incorrect."

Claire jumped back in. "And you're about to feel the wrath of every vagina you ever violated, Myrtle."

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTTT!

The sound that came out of the woman's mouth blew everything in a block radius out of the water.





Shelly-Shock Ch. 02



"Oh, Doc, I think we're okay," giggled Shelly, all smiles. "Unless...was there anything else you wanted to talk about, honey?"

Howie chuckled. "I...believe I'm good for now," he agreed.

"Tee-riff!" said Shelly, slapping her thighs and jumping up. "Well, I am going to go ahead and take my lovely boyfriend out on a date! I will see you on Monday then, Doc, thank you so much!" She grabbed Vixie's hand in both of hers, shaking enthusiastically. As they headed off, Shelly was heard to cry out in joy, "This is the best day of my life!"





Shelly-Shock



She handed it to Shelly to look over. Wow, thought Shelly. Well, that did sound pretty impressive, she had to admit. But yet...

"Well, gosh, if this is really that effective, I don't wanna automatically rule it out, but...I can't take the key with me?"

"No. Shelly, if you had the ability to unlock it at any point, you might as well not even wear it in the first place, you see?"

"I...guess. Um...I dunno how I feel about not being able to have an orgasm, though."

Vixie nodded. "I can certainly see how you could feel that way. On the other hand, Shel, let's look at it this way. When you came here today, you felt terrible about what you did, right?"

Shelly mirrored her nod. "Of course! I still do!"

"Right. And if you got the chance to do it over, you definitely wouldn't, would you?"

"Yeah—no! No, I mean! Absolutely not!"

"Absolutely not. We're not gonna sugarcoat it, Shelly; you made a huge mistake. You did an awful thing, and your current state of mind appropriately matches its nature: you feel awful about it. So even though you did something rotten, you're not a rotten person."

Shelly dropped her eyes to the floor in shame at the reminder. "Thanks, Doc," she muttered, abashedly but appreciatively.

"So then, would I be correct in assuming that you feel you need some form of adequate reprimand to properly purge yourself?"

"I guess, but...you think this is enough to make up for cheating on someone?"

She nodded. "Personally, yes. And I'll tell you why. When someone breaks the law, what happens, they're jailed—for a period of time congruent with the severity of their crime. Now obviously, putting you in prison for cheating would be overdoing it a little..."

Shelly again returned the nod, getting it together. "...But just putting my vagey in prison...would do the trick."

The more she considered it from Vixie's angle, the more it made sense. She was right; spending time in an actual penitentiary, or mutilating her own genital organs in some way, that was too much. But merely blocking her pussy and taking away her ability to use it, or to experience any vaginal pleasure, let alone an orgasm, that actually sounded justifiable. It seemed sufficient to alleviate her, teach her her lesson and make her feel better about her misdeed. And the reminder would stick around, enhancing the visibility of that red flag that popped up when someone made a move on her. And it wouldn't cause her pussy any physical harm or damage.

She worked her lips up into a smile for the first time. "I'll do it."

***

March 3rd, 4:00 p.m.

It turned out to be very fortunate that Vixie had a cancellation on the 10th and Shelly got to see her, as due to temporary illness she ended up not being able to accommodate her on the 17th. They also weren't able to meet on the 24th, as it wasn't in their normal schedule. So they took a three-week break, their next session to take place on March 3rd.

In the meantime, Howie took Shelly out for Valentine's Day to a lovely little eatery called the Moonbeam Café. Shelly proceeded as normal, making believe everything was okay and just as before. Though when Howie told her, "Happy Valentine's Day, honey bunny, I love you so much," Shelly did have to mislead him into thinking that her tears were joyful, rather than guilty, to protect his feelings.

As their dinner wound to a close, keeping her dirty little secret inside became as difficult as saying no to Bonnie in the first place. Finally, she excused herself to go to the ladies' room, even though she didn't need to at all. She just peed into her pad, but if she never went to the restroom, Howie would start thinking something was up.

As well he should! said the part of her mind that reflected the thoughts of her conscience.

But, should he, really? asked the other part. I mean, we are serving our punishment with the belt, and won't it just make it even worse to spill the whole thing?

You're just being a coward! the conscience argued. He deserves to know the truth! And you don't deserve him if you're willing to do this and just keep it a secret. If you cheated on him and won't even confess it, you obviously don't love him like he loves you.

Don't say that! she pleaded with herself. I know I'm weak...and I'm a pussy...I'm a wussy. Okay. I am. But I do love Howie! I love my boyfriend! He's the light of my life! I realize that now!

Sure, now that you went behind his back and boinked a chick.

She told Vixie about all this conflict of reason going on back and forth in her mind. She explained to her how she ended up still not telling Howie what happened, but really felt like she should've.

"In the end, it all boils down to what Shelly decides is right for her, kiddo," Vixie told her. "We've already established that now that you've done this, you can't undo it. You know that. What's important to know and remember right now is that Shelly is her own person. You can't change the past, but you can learn from it and move on. And you don't have to listen to the naysayers who'll just judge you forever and say, 'Once a cheater, always a cheater.' It doesn't have to be true if you don't let it."

Shelly nodded. "Thank you," she mumbled. "I still feel crummy and slimy, but that really is nice to hear."

"Meanwhile, something you might try," suggested Vixie. "This may sound bizarre coming from a therapist, but—without it having to mean anything salacious—perhaps you can ask Howie—just hypothetically," she added, "What he'd think about...a threesome."

Shelly's eyes leapt open.

"Um...why, exactly?"

"To get his perspective on the situation. You're not actually doing anything of the sort, just discussing for now. Remind him that you're bisexual, and that you've been with women as well as men. If he doesn't like the idea, you'll want to put all thoughts of unfaithful intimacy out of your mind and focus only on him. If he's not sure how he feels about it, you've gotta respect that. But if he is interested, then you can take the discussion a step further."

"Yeah, but...then, wouldn't we be right back to, 'Why's my coochie under arrest here'?"

"Not necessarily. You can always add the disclaimer that you're not ready to do anything like this right now, but that you might be open to it in the future. And Shel, you never know how your partner might react to certain ideas. I don't know Howie, and I'm not predicting his reactions, and I know this is a reach, but the idea of you with another girl might just strike him as...really hot."

Shelly shrugged. "I guess anything's possible."

"So how's it going with the belt?"

She let out a sigh. "Oh...not too bad, I guess. I do miss touching myself a little, but I think you were definitely right about it helping my urges, 'cause now when someone cute smiles or waves at me, and I feel that little tickle inside, I remember it's there."

"Excellent!" praised Vixie. "Glad to hear it. Keep in mind, you have the power, and if your will is good, there's nothing you can't achieve. Well, we're out of time today, so very good work so far, Shelly. I'm proud of you. Keep it up, and I'll see you in two weeks."

***

April 21st, 4:14 p.m.

See her in two more weeks she did...then two more, then yet two more still, and by April 21st Shelly Alice Powell was beginning to beg Dr. Vixie to take the belt off. She felt she'd thoroughly learned her lesson, and at last could move on and be no more so plighted by her infernal temptations as to be unable to resist them. On top of which, far beyond merely missing being able to touch herself, at this point she was downright craving it. It was driving her crazy, and now additionally costing her sleep. She was crabby, she was seeing stars, and she was so mindlessly horny she was losing her senses. Not least but last, as an added bonus, she'd forgotten to charge her phone, and its battery was dead, so she had to leave it in the car so it could power up. Shelly was sure if she expressed all this to her therapist, she could finally convince her that her poor guilty vagey had adequately served its sentence and could be set free. But to her dismay and disappointed surprise, Vixie still disagreed.

"Shelly, you're doing such wonderful work on yourself, and as your therapist, I feel you still have a little ways further to go," she told her. "I don't doubt you've made some excellent progress, but in your current state of mind, I question whether you'd be capable of maintaining such impeccable control over yourself without the security of the chastity belt."

Oh, was this frustrating. "But Doc..." Shelly sighed, "This state of mind isn't due to me still grappling with these damn temptations. Maybe I wasn't clear on this before, in which case I'm sorry, but, it's due, to the belt!" she insisted, trying to keep calm. "I swear, you can take my word for it. No kidding, dead serious, I really really really really think I'm ready for it to finally come the hell off."

"Well, we'll discuss it a little more at the end of session," said Vixie. "In the meantime, how have things been going with Howie?"

Shelly took a breath. "Well...he was on vacation with his family for two weeks, so I guess in a way I kinda lucked out. I didn't have to worry about him finding out about the belt, or...y'know, but like I told you, he said he might kinda like the three-way idea, so..."

"Did he seem to like the idea of you being intimate with another girl?"

"Well, yeah...he loves women, so he figured two'd probably be twice as fun, but he had the same concern I did—that between the three of us, things might get weird...or someone's feelings could get hurt. So...I...kinda...still didn't tell him I fucked that Bonnie girl."

"Okay, well, good that at least you two are on the same page with the ramifications. Have you been intimate with him?"

"When we've gotten the chance," Shelly nodded. "I, um...I gave him a blow job, and he told me he absolutely loved me, and it, so that felt really good to be able to do, but then making him happy made me really horny, but I couldn't do anything about it. And I also couldn't let him know I couldn't do anything about it. And that didn't feel very good at all. I mean, Dr. Vixie, for hell's sake, I actually had to lie to him and say I was 'pumice'ing just to keep him from trying to touch me and finding out about the damn belt. God Al-friggin'-mighty, if this thing doesn't come off soon, I think I'll just gonna tell him everything and let the chips fall wherever."

The session dragged on, Shelly repeating her adamancy several times about wanting her sexual pleasure back already, so when they were almost finished, Vixie finally agreed to cut her some...eventual slack.

"All right, Shel, I can see how strongly you feel about this, so I'll make you a deal. I want you to give it just one more session span. Come back and see me on May 5th, and if you still feel the same way...I promise you we will then take the belt off."

Well, she wasn't crazy about the wait, but just knowing these would be the last two weeks she'd have to endure it immediately put Shelly in a much better mood. "OH, thank God," she breathed. "At last! Thank you so much, Dr. Vixie."

"All right, kiddo, see you in another two weeks. Keep up the good work, and God bless!" said Vixie, shaking her hand.

***

April 21st, 5:03 p.m.

The session ended. Vixie had to rush off, so Shelly took a few minutes in the restroom. She didn't need to do so to pee, of course—which was actually the one big perk of wearing the belt—the super-absorbent pad, enabling her to sidestep long restroom lines and drink as much liquid as she so desired. The other pro: not having to wear or wash any panties. But these two positives still remained vastly outweighed by the major cons at this point. Given the choice, she'd take a long bathroom wait over chastity in a second.

She splashed some cold water on her face, gulping down a few mouthfuls of it, and stumbled her way back outside. The building had to close, so the secretaries waited for Shelly to come out of the restroom before they let her out, locked up and departed. She took a moment to paw at her eyes, trying to get her vision to completely focus, and relocate her car. The cool breeze felt nice and extra cold on her wet face, and she smiled as she envisioned her future as an again-free woman in two more weeks.

Now, where did I park again?...

She looked around the almost empty lot, and her face morphed into bemusement.

Ummm...yyyyyyyeah. Seriously, no kidding, where did I park again??

She couldn't find her car. What was going on? She was exhausted, but she wasn't hallucinating. She was still lucid enough to drive.

Okay, car, this was cute at first, but really, you can come out now. I don't have the energy to go looking all over the place for ya.

She closed her eyes, blinked rapidly a dozen times and tried to retrace her steps. They were a bit fuzzy, but summoning the details reminded her she'd basically pulled into the closest space she could find. So she made her way to where she thought it was...

...And her mouth formed the words, Oh...no...

This...was not a parking space.

It was a red zone.

OH NO, she mentally moaned. She had parked in a red zone. And now, obviously, her car had been towed.

Oh, fuck me! she thought as she went into her purse. Stupid! Stupid, stupid, STUPID!! Shelly, you DOLT! she berated herself, ruffling through the handbag. You fucking moron! How could you be so stup—...WHERE the hell is my goddamned phone?!

She suddenly looked up with horror-filled eyes as she remembered her phone was dead, and she'd let it sit and charge...in the car.

Her footing went unsteady. She felt as if all the wind had been knocked out of her. The building was closed; no one was left inside.

Oh, great job, Shelly! she thought, infuriated at herself. Why didn't you just go ahead and lock your keys in while you were at it?!

Feeling defeated, she sat on the ground, face in her hands. Her open purse sat between her legs, directly in front of her cursed chastity belt. She was doomed, she thought. She had no way to get home or anywhere else, and no way to contact anyone. Right about now she felt like the biggest loser in the universe. She couldn't believe her misfortune. Ri-fucking-diculous, she thought. Do I seriously deserve all this?? Was what I did two entire months ago really that horrible?!

She figured her only option was to wander around until she could locate someone she had to hope was a nice person who could give her a ride. Or find a pay phone. But right now she didn't have the energy. She needed a little cleansing first. She needed a cry.

Face still in her hands, she felt her fingers getting necessarily wet as her body began to tremble.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been weeping on the ground before she heard the faint echo of footsteps approach. The next thing she heard was, "Excuse me, young lady...are you all right?"

She looked up and blinked through her tears to see a lady in her 40s wearing a pair of black work boots, toughskin denims, a white lab coat, black gloves, a band pinning her hair behind her and a pair of eyeglasses on a chain around her neck.

Part of the reason she was so upset about her situation was that Shelly was and had always been a little afraid of strangers. But since she didn't have much choice right now other than to confide in one and hope for some help, she did so.

"Well, since you asked, actually, no, I'm not," she uttered, wiping her eyes and nose. "My car got towed, and my phone was in it."

The lady nodded. "Ah, now, there is quite the dilemma, isn't it," she mused. "Well, I am sorry to hear, but perhaps I can help..."

Her tone seemed to trail off, as if there was more to that proposal, but Shelly didn't care. "Oh, that would be terrific!" she said, standing up. "Thank you so much!" Finally, her luck seemed to be turning around. "So you can give me a ride?"

"Well, perhaps..." said the woman, her voice again trailing. "...That is, if you might be able and willing to do something for me..."

...Oh. Well, I didn't think asking someone for a ride was expecting too much, but...

"Oh, uh...all right, I guess...you want me to give you some gas money? I can do that," Shelly agreed.

"Mmm, not exactly."

"What is it then?"

"Well, why don't you come with me and I'll show you."

***

April 21st, 5:36 p.m.

Shelly followed the lady in the lab coat a few blocks away to an unlit intersection with a sizable, intimidating-looking building she'd never seen before, sitting ominously on the corner. The lady led her inside, down a dank hall and into a large, empty room with a solid white ceiling and walls, a marble floor and a ceiling light that must have been about a bazillion watts. It was so bright inside Shelly had to shield her eyes. And it smelled strange too, almost like rubbing alcohol in a hospital.

Shelly was a little frightened by this building and also this room, but the lady who'd brought her here seemed personable enough to help her if she just did this particular favor—whatever it was—for her in return.

"So what do you need me to do for you?" Shelly asked.

"I'll let you know in just a moment," she said, heading off in another direction behind Shelly. "Just gotta grab a few things first."

Shelly stayed put, a few inches in front of the now-closed door where they'd entered. She had only to stand and wonder what she might have to do for the woman. She of course had yet no idea where she was, much less what she was doing here. Oh well, she had to figure, the information would have to be revealed soon enough, right?

Meanwhile, the middle-aged woman who had taken Shelly to this place had adjourned down another narrow hallway sectioning off the room at the corner to Shelly's left, and then around another corner to a closet where she fetched the couple of items she needed. She performed one action, put one of the items back, and brought the other around to where Shelly waited for her.

Concealing the object left in her hand behind her, she reapproached Shelly. Shelly heard her footsteps reverberating down the hallway out into the wide open space in which she'd been instructed to wait. The woman returned. Shelly turned to see her suddenly reach for the switch and flick out the light. The room plunged into blackness as the woman whipped out from behind her back the miniature towel on which she'd sprinkled the alcohol, and seized Shelly's upper arm with her other hand.

Shelly didn't remember a thing that happened next.

***

April 21st, 7:48 p.m.

Twenty feet inside one of the equally large rooms adjacent to the empty gaping maw via which they had entered, in a wired restraint chair sat a naked, unconscious, blindfolded Shelly Alice Powell, head bowed comatosely. By the locked door sat a pile of the 25-year-old girl's clothing, as a bed of fabric, on top of which lay a severed chastity belt.

The chair's built-in metal restraints in its armrests and front legs were bolted and locked around Shelly's wrists and ankles, pinning her appendages down and holding her in place. The woman who had put her in this state permitted her a rest as she set everything up, before waking Shelly to participate in their...activity.

When she decided the girl'd had enough sleep, the woman picked up some smelling salts and waved them under Shelly's nostrils. When they twitched and she finally stirred back awake, her eventual reaction was normal enough under the circumstances.




Shelly-Shock



"...H—...w—...wha—...where-where am I??" she asked in alarm. "What happened??"

"Welcome, young lady..." came the middle-aged voice to her right. "...To my laboratory. My name is Adrienne Turner. Human behavior research scientist, and professor of physiological investigation."

"Laboratory"? Well, Shelly thought, that explained the auditory content of what sounded to her like electrical scanning, bubbling and leaking test tubes. Okay, so that took care of the 'where'...

"Well, w-what am I doing here?" Shelly asked next. "And why does everything...feel kinda weird?"

Fielding the latter first, Adrienne said, "Well, you're probably feeling a bit underdressed, and that's 'cause you're naked right now."

"What?!"

"That's right, up to and including that leather device muzzling your genitals."

Shelly couldn't move her hands or feet, but leaving that concern aside for the moment, she wriggled her ass back and forth to feel...

...Nothing but air??

Shelly gasped. "Oh my God, you...you took off my chastity belt??"

"That's right."

"Oh m—...oh God, thank you!" shouted Shelly in genuine gratitude and relief. "But h—...how? How'd you get it off? It was locked!"

"You'd be surprised what you can accomplish, young lady, with a simple pair of heavy-duty titanium shears."

Shelly paused, returning to the real important matters right now. "Whoa, b-okay, but, wait, wait, wait a minute, back up. Why am I sitting here naked, and why can't I move or see anything?"

"Ah, yes," came Adrienne's low, rough voice. "Well, you see, eh...your name, please, young lady?"

"Shelly..."

"Very good. Shelly, I've chosen you as the subject of my current experiment."

Whatever this experiment might be, Shelly didn't think she liked the sound of that, if it involved keeping her held down tight naked in a chair. She told Adrienne so. And while she greatly appreciated this woman prematurely liberating her caged, starved pussy, she didn't at all appreciate her restraining the rest of her. She was still unable to touch herself.

Adrienne's voice broke into her frustrated thoughts. "I understand how you'd feel that way, Shelly," she remarked. "But need I remind you, you did agree to perform the favor I asked of you in return for transportation."

Oh my God, this woman is nuts.

"A—...bu—...this is your favor??!" Shelly exclaimed, struggling against her restraints. "Look, lady—Adrienne, whatever—I didn't agree to this! I'm...I'm glad you took off my chastity belt, but this isn't cool! You can't keep me here like this! I've got rights, y'know!"

Adrienne chuckled. "'Rights,'" she repeated. "How precious. You're adorable, Shelly."

"Y—...my God, you're...you're crazy, aren't you?? Or...mad! You're mad! You're an actual mad fucking scientist! I don't believe this—I didn't think you people actually existed! What the hell are you gonna do to me?"

"Well, you see, Shelly," explicated Adrienne calmly, "We together are going to simulate what is known in the science circles as a Milgram test...together with my own, eh...personal twist."

Shelly waited a few moments before she said anything.

"Does that shed any light on things for you?"

She thought that name Milgram sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on from where. "Mm...no."

"Very well, in that case I'll give you your instructions. Beneath your fingers on both your left and right are series of three buttons, each in one row on both sides. Do you feel them?"

Shelly lowered her fingers to locate the tangible buttons. "Yeah..."

"Outstanding. You're wearing two attached earpieces, one in each, which will aurally feed you commands. The commands you'll hear will come in patterns of tones in an ascending scale. Three tones of separate pitches. The lowest tone will correspond to the left-most button on either side. The middle tone corresponds to the middle button, and the highest tone the right-most button. You see?"

Shelly really didn't want to do this, whatever it was, but she didn't see what choice she had.

Sigh. "Yeah."

"Good. You will be rewarded for each correct answer, and penalized for each incorrect answer."

Shelly didn't even hear the word "rewarded"; all she heard was "penalized." And she didn't like that one little bit.

"You will have five seconds to begin and finish answering. If you let any period of five consecutive seconds pass before finishing a response, it will be considered incomplete, therefore incorrect, and you will be penalized. Do you understand?"

Shelly nodded, feeling near tears. "Mm-hm," she whimpered.

"I will now play you the three tones, in ascending order, in both ears." Shelly heard her typing on a keyboard as she did so. "If you heard all the tones, answer by pressing the correct buttons in the order you heard them."

Shelly did so slowly and carefully, making sure she was pressing each one just correctly.

"Outstanding. The testing will now begin."

More typing, then Shelly heard her first command: a middle tone in her left ear, a low in the right, a high in the left. "Answer now."

Shelly's heart started beating quickly as she tried to make her fingers stop trembling, felt which buttons were which, and pressed in succession left-middle, right-left, left-right. She answered correctly. The tones did not echo in her ears as she pressed the buttons, so she would not know if she was correct until afterwards. Adrienne nodded, noted her answer, and proceeded to reward her.

What she had not told Shelly was what her reward or penalty would entail—per her own aforementioned personal spin on the experiment—as she wished for the subject's performance to be entirely natural and not initially influenced in one direction or the other. And so what Shelly could not see or detect were the wires protruding from the electrodes Adrienne had attached to her temples, nipples, palms, abs, inner thighs, her ass cheeks, her clit, and the soles of her feet...or the vaginal probe inside her pussy.

And she didn't know what to expect for replying correctly. Adrienne brought to her clitoral hood and activated...a Hitachi wand.

Shelly felt the Hitachi vibrator send a ripple of pleasure through her pussy on the low setting. She gasped.

"Oh, God!" she whisper-breathed as her head went back. That was the absolute last thing she could've seen coming. As so excruciatingly long as it had been since she was allowed to touch her pussy, even the slightest vibe provided by this magic wand and like lightning, back flashed the memory and feeling of such sublime, forbidden pleasure she craved and longed so badly after.

After five seconds, Adrienne took the wand away. "That answer is correct," she reported matter-of-factly.

"Oh my God, you mean I get my vagey pleasured if I'm right??" Shelly practically burst, suddenly much more excited about the experiment. She would almost consider this another form of infidelity, were it not for the fact that she didn't know this going in, and it was happening against her will. Therefore, she didn't feel guilty about it.

"Please do not speak while testing is in progress," was Adrienne's only answer to her question.

She fed her a second series of three tones and told her to answer again. Now eager to feel the sweet sensation of success, Shelly focused once more, pressed the buttons just as she'd heard them, and braced herself with a smile.

Sure enough, correct a second time. Adrienne again turned the Hitachi on her, this time adding an extra second for six total. When she again registered the heavenly vibe pulsing through, Shelly let out an ecstatic squeal, following it with a passion-engulfed moan.

Already going out of her mind, Shelly sputtered out a very thankful, "OhmygoshIlovethatpleasedon'tstop!!"

But Adrienne again ceased, prompting a sad, deprived groan from her subject. "Oh, please!" Shelly begged. "Please bring it back!"

"Again, Shelly, I must insist that you refrain from talking during the experiment," Adrienne reminded her. "Now, your next command." This time, the question included four tones. "Answer now."

Shelly calmed herself down enough to focus again, heart beating as she thought about the wonderful sensation coming back her way as she kept her streak of correct answers alive. She almost didn't remember the fourth tone, but she again performed to par.

She giggled giddily, turning into another yearning moan as Adrienne blessed her with seven seconds of Hitachi heaven.

"Oh dear God...oh dear God..." Shelly repeated over and over as stars danced in her eyes. "I can't believe this..."

The vibrator departed. Her next four-tone command came. "Answer now."

However, this time Shelly misjudged. She convinced her now-flighty mind that the last in this series was low, when in fact it was a middle-pitched tone. Still believing she was right, she pressed the buttons and again waited for the sweet treat on her pussy.

But there would be none this time. She'd answered incorrectly. With a total of fifteen electrodes on her nude body, Adrienne now reached for the battery where all the electrodes were connected. Setting the voltage level to three, she activated the battery and shot a total of forty-five volts of electricity through all the most tender, sensitized regions on the girl's body. Shelly replied accordingly.

"AAAAAAHH!" she yelled, expecting the vibrator. "What the fuck! What was that?!"

"That answer is incorrect," Adrienne told her.

It was?? Shelly thought, genuinely surprised. She really thought she was right on that one, just as with the others. Oh my God, and my penalty for getting it wrong is...electrocution?? She would have to pay a good bit more attention from this point on.

Her next command consisted of five tones. This time, Shelly matched the tones correctly, but unfortunately reversed the sides of the third and fourth. She didn't expect the vibrator quite as much this time, but really hoped she would get it.

She didn't. Adrienne increased the voltage level to four and gave her sixty volts.

"OOOOOOOWWWWFUCK!" Shelly cried in pain. "Oh, come on!" she pleaded.

"That answer is incorrect," Adrienne reiterated.

Shelly felt like weeping. But her next command came, also with five tones. She concentrated as much as she could, entered her response, heard Adrienne type the result, braced herself for three seconds...

...And was compensated with eight seconds of Hitachi euphoria.

"AAAAHHHHOOOHHHTHANKGOD..." Shelly breathed, drinking in the pleasure radiating through her. "Oh, please, God, yes..."

The Hitachi left her body. She squirmed and whined for it back.

"Your next command," was Adrienne's only reply.

Six tones played, which Shelly discerned as well as she could...but not well enough. Seventy-five volts hit her like a truck.

"AAAAAAHHHHHhhhhh!!" screamed Shelly, tears coming out, wrestling the restraints. "Oh, hell! That hurts, you bitch!!"

"That answer is incorrect."

"Yeah, no shit! Fucking psycho!" Shelly shouted.

"Next command." Six more tones. Shelly groaned, entered her answer, bit her bottom lip and shut her eyes as tight as she could.

She was correct. Adrienne now flipped the Hitachi up to its second setting and held it on her for nine seconds. Shelly's body locked. Her hands clenched into fists and her toes into balls on the floor. "Fuuuuuuck," she whispered, back arched, straining for breath and release. But the nine seconds were up, and away went the vibrator once more.

Shelly again sobbed, at the loss of the pleasure. "Oh God, you're driving me fucking crazy," she declared.

"That answer is correct. Next command."

Breaking pattern in her favor, her following question also consisted of six tones, rather than graduating to seven. Focusing with as much mental power as she could summon, Shelly intrepidly punched in her response, said a quick prayer and repeated silently to herself, "Please be right, please be right, please be right, please be right..."

Unfortunately, the fifth component of her current answer was erroneous. Adrienne zapped her with a monstrous ninety volts.

"Please beEEEEYYYYOOOOOOOOWWWW!" Shelly shrieked like a four-year-old child, head flipping back in agony. "FUCK ME!!"

"That answer is incorrect."

Both Shelly's mouth and pussy coughed up a bit of liquid. She wheezed and gasped, badly needing a deep breath. She could feel her muscles spasm. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could endure if it kept getting worse like this.

"Okay, M-uh, lady, look, I'm sorry I called you a bitch. Can we just stop now? I don't wanna do this anymore, okay?" she implored.

"Shelly, the experiment requires that you continue. It is absolutely essential, and you have no other choice."

"But I can't fucking stand this goddammit!" she screamed. "Don't you realize this is torture?! Please let me the hell outta here!"

"The testing will continue. Next command."

Her next command was also six tones. Keeping her mind on the pain, Shelly thought it through, entered her answer, waited...and to her relief and delight, Adrienne mercifully anointed her with ten seconds of level-two Hitachi salvation.

Shelly's breath caught in her throat as she absorbed the flaming passion. She guzzled down the saliva foaming in the corners of her mouth, squeezed her eyes shut and forgot about the time limit, starting to fantasize about just being able to come...OH, to come...

She tried to make each second last an hour in her mind, and she knew it wouldn't be right to focus on the fact that the vibrator was eventually going to be taken away, as by doing so she'd be denying herself her own pleasure. And she'd had waaaaaay more than enough denial to last her the rest of her life. Just keep answering right, she told herself. It's that easy. Just keep answering right and you have absolutely nothing to worry about, and nothing but pleasure to look forward to. It's...that...easy.

It wasn't that easy. She fumbled on her next command. Adrienne upped the ante once again. One hundred and five volts.

ZZZZZZZZZZzzzztt! "YYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEOOOWWW!!"

A mini-flood of tears exploded from Shelly's eyes, soaking the blindfold.

Adrienne's voice was direct and emotionless. "That answer is incorrect."

"FUCK you, lady!" Shelly boomed. "You're the worst! If I ever get outta this I am SO gonna destroy your ass."

"Once more, silence during the testing," Adrienne instructed. "Next command."

Shelly knew she had no choice but to comply. If she did nothing Adrienne would only electrocute her more. She whimpered and did her best to repeat the next, seven-tone pattern. By this point she was starting to expect nothing but shocks, but this time she got a good shock. She was treated to an eleven-second Hitachi pussy massage.

But after all this intense pain, even the pleasure was being bled into by the stinging ache. The ecstasy itself was starting to torment her. And yet, she couldn't get enough. Suddenly, she understood exactly what the old rock song "Hurts So Good" meant.

Her eleven seconds were up. Adrienne again took the Hitachi from her and Shelly let out an angry screech of aggravation. She pulled and wrenched on the chair restraints so hard she could swear her limbs were about to come off.

"Oh, fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Shelly chanted under her breath. "Please, more..." she beseeched. "Please put it back."

"Next command."

Shelly let her pleasure be her motivation. She paid extra close attention and repeated the following sequence to the finest of her ability. And again her determination paid off. Adrienne allotted her a generous twelve seconds of Hitachi bliss, and also this time rode the wand up to level three. Needless to say, when Shelly felt it, she went (figuratively) through the ceiling.

"OHHH! OHHHHHH! OHHHHHYES! OHHHHHHHH!!" Shelly rejoiced, howling herself into a laryngitic fit, hands helplessly in trembling fists. "Please let me come! Please let me come! PLEASE LET ME FUCKING COME!!"

She could feel it building, over and over, dying down and increasing again. She was going utterly insane. She never imagined these dimensions of both agony and pleasure existed. When she'd originally taught herself how to masturbate, and worked herself up to some impressive climaxes, becoming better and better at it all the way, she thought she'd found the secret to the ultimate orgasm. But this...in a million years of her wildest dreams, she never could have predicted this.

Yet, just as quickly as she'd begun to touch down upon her own private utopia, her dream transformed into a nightmare. Adrienne had given her the next command five seconds ago, and in her delirious, dizzy haze, she hadn't even noticed.

But she did notice being terrorized inside and out by a merciless hundred and twenty volts of hell.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!" she hollered as loud and forceful as the remnants of her voice would carry. It bounced off the walls with a haunting echo. Her face twisted into a portrait of intolerable suffering. Her head drew straight up and back as her mouth opened wide to let out a scream to rival all screams. Her eyes once again pinched shut extra tight. She couldn't take any more. Her brain was on fire. The shocks made her twitch and start to go numb. Her pussy was being stuck from the inside out with a million prickly needles. Soaked from the pleasure of the Hitachi, her practically destroyed cunt expelled and spat miniature splashes of her warm fluid, frothing effervescently at each piercing electrocution. Only her pussy got to feel the joy of the vibrator, but all the most sensitive flesh on her shredded body was assaulted by these inexorable lightning strikes.

"Next command."

The next set of tones was presented, but yet again, poor Shelly didn't even notice. But she did of course still have to pay the price.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!"

She bawled until her forehead ached. Now she knew how being tased felt, she had to presume. Every part of her was twitching and jerking uncontrollably. Surplus spittle drooled from her mouth. Her breasts were heaving and could've been squirting lactate for all she knew. Her heart felt like it could permanently stop at any point. Her cunt was pulsating with such wild bloody throbs her clit was about to burst. And her hands and feet might as well've turned into stumps.

Adrienne could literally not have cared less. She clearly had nothing resembling this poor girl's best interests at heart.

"That answer is incorrect."

Shelly was in utter disbelief that this was actually happening. The whole exploit felt at this point like a horrific out-of-body experience. She knew Adrienne told her to be quiet while she was doing this to her, but this had gone way beyond ludicrous.

"Lady, Miss...Adri—...whatever," Shelly spastically puffed out. "For God's sake, please show me a little humanity. I'm begging."

"Shelly, the experiment requires that you continue," stated Adrienne compassionlessly. Shelly rolled her eyes under the blindfold halfway through the repetition, having heard this before already.

"Yeah, yeah, we already covered that," snapped Shelly, "But if this goes on too much longer, I think you're gonna literally kill me!"

"The experiment will not allow your heart to overfibrillate or fail. Now, I must insist that you cooperate. Next command."

Shelly just hung her head and wept, paying half-hearted attention to the following series of tones playing in her ears. She did her best to repeat the series on the button pads, clenched up and waited for the torture.




Shelly-Shock



But again, she'd anticipated errantly. She had no idea how she did it—especially feeling as if her brain cells were being fried—but she'd answered correctly. The next sensation she felt was a full fifteen seconds of pussy-vibing from the Hitachi.

"OHHHH..." Shelly dizzily exalted. Surprisingly, after all those electric prods, she could still feel the unparalleled goodness pulsing through her from the magic wand. And what was more, she was closer to a momentous climax every second. Waves rode from the tips of her toes all the way up to the top of her head, awakening her numbness, as if she were floating on thin air.

"That answer is correct," Adrienne informed her, as if she wasn't aware, removing the Hitachi. Shelly no longer had the energy to protest, and she so merely emitted a sad, woeful droning hum.

"Next command."

Shelly had no idea how many of these she'd answered, but lucky for her, they seemed to be limited to a sequence of seven tones. She didn't think she'd be able to remember any more than that. Seven was already challenging enough. She again braced herself.

To her surprise, she was right. Adrienne flipped the wand up yet another overwhelming level and utterly rocked...Shelly's...world.

Vocal chords practically shot, Shelly coughed out a throaty, hoarse wail, no choice but to surrender to the wand's supreme divinity. This time, Adrienne sent twenty seconds' worth of good vibrations through her, but Shelly didn't even need them all. Being steadily rushed to the edge, the girl knew she wouldn't be able to handle much more. She could only keep her muscles locked, try to hold back from choking and stop her head from exploding as this unfathomable whirlwind invaded her.

In nine seconds, at last, all portals unlocked. Shelly flew off the edge and was blasted into the stratosphere.

Shelly's neck craned to its limit and her voice shot up until it broke the whistle register. Her knuckles and toes went snow-white. Each inch of her quivered, her every nerve ending unbearably tantalized. Shelly didn't know which way was up or down anymore. She didn't know what was good or what was bad, what was right or wrong. All she could say right at this moment was that this woman, Adrienne Turner, was having the same effect on her that Miss Bonnie Cutler did that day at the coffee shop—that was to say, Shelly was scared to death of her, and loving every second of it. But Bonnie hadn't made her come like this.

Her pussy had sprayed a mess dripping down the front of the chair—come, spare body fluid and sticky wet secretion, which began leaking onto the floor. Adrienne didn't care about her pleasure, her terror or her mess; all she cared about were the testing results.

For half a second Shelly wondered what would happen next, but that's all her body allowed her. This incomparably ass-kicking orgasm drained her cold, and the next thing she knew, she fell dead asleep in the chair.

Unfortunately, Adrienne wasn't finished with the experiment. The next command came, and Shelly didn't perceive its first or last nuance. Somnolence made no difference to the cold, ruthless professor. She woke Shelly right back up with a hundred and fifty volts.

In her slumber, Shelly's head had dropped and her mouth collapsed shut. When the highest electroshock yet struck her, her teeth gnashed together so hard the enamel almost cracked. Her voice was gone, so she threw out an involuntary whisper-scream, now terrifyingly jolted back to consciousness. When she again realized where she was and what was going on, she keened like an infant. What was wrong with this sick woman?! Why wouldn't she just let her go and leave her alone already?!

"You did not answer this command. The response was incomplete," Adrienne aloofly noted.

Again wheezing and hacking back the rising saliva and foam, trying to keep the bodily quaking and throbbing to a minimum, Shelly regained her senses just enough to whisper-shout, "Oh, you evil fucking bitch...I fucking hate you so goddamn much..."

The words had no impact on Adrienne. Neither did the fact that unbeknownst to Shelly, the experiment was actually just about complete. There was only one more command to be performed. But of course, Adrienne wouldn't reveal this until afterwards.

"Next command."

God help me...this really is never going to end, is it?

I am going to die here.

This is the end of me.

Goodbye, peaceful world...

...I will miss you so much...

...Please tell my boyfriend and my parents I love them.

Shelly despondently punched in her answer on the button pads, heard the typing on the keyboard and held her breath, waiting patiently, prepared for the be-all end-all to this experiment, her ultimate torment.

Howie, I just want you to know that I never meant for any of this to happen. I love you so, so much, you mean the world to me, and yet I know I don't deserve you. You could never be unfaithful to me. I know how much you love me. You trusted me, and I abused that trust. I took advantage of your kindness and devotion to me, and I know it was wrong. So very wrong. And now I'll never get to tell you how sorry I am...or how much I adore you...

...I'll never even get to say goodbye.

Shelly mentally crossed herself, said a prayer...and to her astonishment, it was answered.

The Hitachi made contact.

It went without saying Shelly wasn't ready for that. She leaned forward, heaved and coughed. Her excess saliva splattered over her clenching thighs and Adrienne's hand. Still locked in place, she could not fall forward out of the chair and instead collapsed back against it. Her extremities were red, sore, aching and hot to the touch. She felt as if she were sizzling and crackling with electrical current residue. She thought she must be dreaming, it being impossible to accept that she'd gotten this most recent command correct. But the wand laid on and pressed against her for thirty heart-stopping seconds. She knew her desperate pussy had to be crimson, puffed and swollen beyond recognition. Her nipples and the other mistreated parts of her body must have looked like someone slashed at them with a hundred tiny swords.

She could not have felt one iota more annihilated.

"Oka—...okay, please stop, I can't take any more..." Shelly gasped futilely—or so she thought.

"As you wish." Adrienne turned off the Hitachi. "Congratulations, Shelly, the experiment is complete."

Shelly's eyeballs rolled back into place. "W—...what?"

Adrienne rose from her perch beside Shelly's ravaged body and disarmed the battery. One by one she began removing the electrodes from Shelly's body, culling a small, pitiful, "Ow..." out of the girl with each. When all the electrodes were off, Adrienne deactivated the mechanical electric chair, and the bolted cuff restraints around Shelly's wrists and ankles recoiled. She was free to move, and to relieve herself of the blindfold. But Adrienne'd had the foresight to have pocketed a real taser, should Shelly feel the need to leap from her seat, retaliate and attempt to murder her a dozen times.

But she'd not a thing to worry about—not that she was worried to begin with—even after releasing Shelly, the girl sat still, trying just to get her body to settle down and stop shaking.

"Would you like some water?" she heard the woman ask her quietly and inscrutably.

Having trouble getting coherent words out, Shelly nodded her head vehemently. A few moments later, Adrienne brought her a glass. Shelly still had a little trouble for the moment maintaining decent hand-eye coordination, so Adrienne mouth-fed her.

Before Shelly knew what happened, she was out...again.

***

April 22nd, 6:27 a.m.

A new lovely spring day was blooming. The sun played its initial round of peekaboo over the horizon before it began its happy daily arc over the North American hemisphere. Birds and crickets welcomed their bright friend up on its circadian way. Its natural glow joined the creatures of the outdoor world and together slowly awakened a half-conscious, disoriented, brain-scrambled Shelly Alice Powell, sprawled lifelessly alone on her side, in her front lawn.

When she stirred to life, she couldn't process a lucid thought. She wasn't shaking or foaming at her mouth anymore, but she needed a couple of full literal minutes to collect her bearings. She panicked at first. She was fully clothed, but wondering what she was doing in her yard. Especially at this hour of the day. She also noticed that for some reason, her back and elbow hurt quite a bit.

She tried to think back and gather some clues.

She could not remember a thing.

She stopped to notice her purse. She zealously dug into it, hoping to find some kind of hint to tell her what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Her belongings appeared to all be there, but...nothing that supplied any new information.

She got herself to her feet. She had to work quite ardently to maintain a firm footing. She felt drained, a little queasy and caught an extremely bitter taste of something which she really hoped wasn't what she thought it was. She staggered to her front door, fished through her purse, extracted the set of keys and had to do a little thinking to recall which would let herself inside.

Needless to say, Shelly was relieved to be home from...wherever she'd just been. Whatever was going on here, even though she was securely inside her house with her property, she felt scared, wary and woozy. For all she knew, any number of things could have happened recently. First and foremost, she needed to sit down for a while. So she chose her computer, going online to check her E-mails, see if any of her friends were available, whatever could help put together more pieces of this puzzle.

No such dice.

When she could get up, she removed her clothing to step into the shower. She got an unpleasant surprise when she looked in the mirror. The more fragile regions of her frame gave off a redder tint than the rest of her. They looked almost sore...and bruised.

Oh my God... Had she been assaulted? Attacked? Raped?

Oh, what to do...all she could think of right now was take her shower to put herself in a more cleansed state of mind and body, and then...she'd figure out the rest afterwards.

Her shower was through. She carried herself out of the bathroom, drying off. She wandered aimlessly out into her living room, wondering how to handle this. About two hours had passed since she woke up on the lawn. She spent what must have been another hour sitting alone, just trying to figure things out. The more she tried to shed some light on the situation and couldn't, the more frightened she became. Then she idly looked out the window, and received another uneasing revelation.

WHERE is my car?...

She had her car keys, but the actual car itself was nowhere to be seen.

Finally, somewhere around 10:00, her house phone rang, startling her.

She checked the caller ID. FELDMAN, HOWARD, the readout told her.

"Hello?"

"Hey, sweetie, it's me!"

"...Howie?"

"...Yeah, hon, I just told you, it's me. I tried your cell, but there was no answer. Everything cool?"

"Um...I don't know."

Howie detected the apprehension in her voice.

"Shelly, what's wrong? Are you in trouble?"

"Uh, Howie, I really don't know, honest, but...I'm scared. I think something happened to me last night...or could have...but I have no idea what. I ha-I-I can't find my car, and...I can't say for sure, but...Howie, I think someone might've harmed me."

Momentary silence. Howie was actually at work right now and was just calling to say a quick hi, but his girlfriend's welfare at potential stake instantly constituted a veritable emergency for which he wouldn't hesitate to remove himself from anything.

"H—...Howie?...Are you there?"

"Shelly, stay right where you are. I'm coming over."

To be continued...