10 comments/ 78065 views/ 36 favorites A Cheater's Regret By: J_Bonham Author's note: Needless to say, writing this was a bit unusual for me, but I hope you all enjoy it! After reading, feel free to give some feedback... thanks! I tremble with anticipation as I sit in bleak waiting room. There are several other people here, including some red-haired girl I think I've seen at school before, but I feel alone. Alone and unprotected. No one is talking – the silence is broken only by the near-deafening tick tock of the clock hanging on the pain white wall across from me. Feeling the ache from the hard metal chair beneath me, I shift my legs nervously under my skirt. My only company are the tropical fish swimming contentedly in their aquarium perched next to the shedding plastic Christmas tree few feet from my chair. Some generic holiday decorations break up the monotony of the wall. Geez, Christmas break is a month away still, and the mindless decorating and advertising is already in full swing. The magazines stacked on the small table in front of me are ancient – like no one has thought to bring in some new ones since the Jurassic period. I glance down at my phone, no reception in here. With nothing else to occupy my hands, I nervously fidget with a few loose strands of hair by my ear. Just a few weeks ago I was celebrating Thanksgiving with my family, not a care in the world. Now this. I wish I could just get it all over with. Gloomy thoughts of my past swirl around me. High School was a breeze. Despite my overbearing, obnoxious parents, I graduated a year early. But I quickly found out that being a college student these days isn't easy. I got through my first half of my Sexuality Studies degree just barely making ends meet. Then disaster struck when I was fired from my waitressing job. I had been looking forward to the holiday season for months, excited for the extra business and generous tips... instead I now had no job at all. I thought I was screwed for sure. I wouldn't be able to graduate, and without a degree, my prospects would look grimmer than ever. I lay awake at night, shuddering at the prospect of having to crawl back to my parents, begging for help. Things only got worse from there. My gloomy train of thought is interrupted as the door swings open and a stern-looking nurse steps into the room. "Katie?" she asks. I nod sheepishly. "Come with me," the nurse tells me. I rise from my seat and follow her through the door. The red-haired girl seated across the room picks up a magazine, disinterested in me. The interior of the clinic is just as bleak as the waiting room. Fluorescent lights hum above our heads as we walk down the hallway, each wall lined with identical waiting rooms. A few medical technicians and patients are milling around. God, I hope no one knows what I'm here for! The nurse takes me into one of the rooms and hands me a medical gown and a clipboard. "Undress and change into this, and fill out the questionnaire," she orders me. I hesitate to respond, this is all happening too fast. The nurse raises an eyebrow and frowns. "Are you going to be a problem?" she asks. "N-no!" I stammer. "You're really lucky you weren't expelled for what you did," the nurse continues. "But if you finish this study successfully, you'll get off with a clean slate." I nod. "But if you don't follow direction or comply with the program rules, you will be disqualified, and all charges reinstated." I stare back at her, afraid to look away. "The doctor will be with you shortly," with that the nurse turned on her heels and walked out. I jumped as the door slammed shut. That bitch Melanie, this is all her fault! I know damn well she's the one who reported me. No one else knew I wrote Matthew's report, so who else could it have been? I slip out of my turtleneck sweater and skirt and fold them neatly on the chair sitting beside the examination table. Surprisingly, the room's temperature actually isn't too bad. Southern California gets warm winters anyways, so I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. All that's left is my bra and panties. God, I hope nothing too embarrassing happens to me today. I reach behind my back and unhook my bra. My nipples perk up as the warm air washes over them. I pause for a moment, and then slide my panties off. I look down over myself. I had made sure to shave and groom myself today – as if it matters in this place. It's a matter of pride I guess. To my embarrassment, I feel a slight tingle of excitement shooting up between my thighs. I've always known I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in me, but never strong enough for me to ever even think about acting on it. But I still can't help but find a guilty thrill in all this. Pushing away the dirty thoughts, I pick up the gown. To my pleasant surprise, it isn't one of those dreadful hospital gowns that barely what needs to be covered, it's a nice silky little robe. It is a lot shorter than I would like, but better than what I thought I was going to get. I pick up the clipboard. The questions start out pretty basic. Sex? Female, duh. Do I drink? No. Do I smoke? Nope, thank God. Sexual orientation? Uh... straight. Yup straight. Am I on any medication? No. Allergies? No. Have I had sex before? Ugh... I answer "yes." How many sexual partners have I had before? I answer "one." I only had one serious relationship in high school – with the boy who took my virginity. But we broke up when I left for college. Have I ever had an orgasm? I stared at the question, unsure if I had read it correctly the first time. Yup, they're really asking that. Ah well. I answer "yes." When did I last have an orgasm? Ugh, alright... three months ago. How do I typically reach orgasm? As sweet as my boyfriend was, I was never able to get an orgasm with him. I circle "masturbation" and drop the clipboard on the examination table. Well, that was awkward. How the hell did I get into this? When I lost my job, I needed to make money somehow. My phone was turned off, my car payment and insurance was past due... I was in deep trouble. Then Matthew, dumb jock and douche of the year, offered to pay me $50 to write his English paper. Easy enough. I completely half-assed it, but he came back with a B+ and happier than ever. It didn't take long for him to become completely dependent on me. But that spoiled, rich little shit had no problem shoveling money my direction, and I had no problem taking it. Big mistake. I was in my dorm room one night working on Matthew's psychology midterm. My bitch of a roommate Melanie blundered in – she could barely walk straight and I could smell the booze in her breath. She was like this at least three or four times a week and I was absolutely sick of it. Not to mention she never missed an opportunity to tease me in front of her little sorority friends and make my life difficult. I couldn't wait for the semester to end so I could request a different room. Melanie shambled over to the desk and looked over my shoulder. "What are you working on?" she yapped at me. "My psychology paper," I mumbled. Could she just go to sleep and leave me alone? "Didn't you do your psychology paper already?" she slurred. "Yeah well, I'm re-writing it," I said, growing exasperated. "Hmmm... are you sure that's really your paper?" she asked snidely. My heart skipped a beat. "Of course it is!" I insisted. "Now could you let me work in peace?" Melanie grinned and sprawled out on her bed. A few minutes later I could hear her snores. I wondered if she was suspicious of me. Good thing she was wasted, she would forget the whole thing the next day. After my psychology class the next day the teacher, Mr. Jeffries, called me over to his desk and told me to come to the academic office with him. I went numb. I knew what this was about. The walk down the school hallways to the office was the longest few minutes of my life. The academic director for sexual studies, Ms. Turring, was waiting for us. Ms. Turring is a tall, older woman with dikey short-cropped hair. She doesn't take any nonsense – I've seen her verbally rip apart students who crossed her. But she's always liked me, and told me I had a promising future with the school. The angry and disappointed look on her face hurt me more than anything else in this messed up situation. Ms. Turring held up a paper – it was my psychology midterm paper. "This is very good," she said. "Thank you," I said, trying my best to maintain my composure. Maybe I could still get through this. Ms. Turring held up a second paper. "You know what this is?" I shook my head, even though I knew perfectly well what it was. "This is Matthew's paper," Ms. Turring said. I stood very still. "Or at least that's the name on the paper," she continued. "But I know it's not his, because, to put it bluntly, he's an idiot." I didn't say a word. I just stared at the floor. "Did you write this?" she asked me. I was tempted to lie, but I felt compelled to be honest. "Yes," I whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. "Well, at least you told the truth," she said. "If you had lied, I would have had you expelled right here. Matthew already confessed, so the game was already up." A part of me remembered Melanie. That bitch snitched on me! But mostly, I felt ashamed. "You're not out of the woods yet," she told me. "We are going to discuss this matter, and then decide what the appropriate punishment for you is, assuming we don't kick you out altogether." As soon as I got back to my room I hurled myself onto the bed and buried my head in my pillow. I cried like I had never cried before. I tried to stifle back the tears as I heard Melanie come in. I lay absolutely still for what seemed like an eternity, until I finally heard her heels click back out into the hallways and slam the door shut behind her. That bitch ruined my life. A couple days later I was summoned back to Ms. Turring's office. She was waiting for me with Mr. Jeffries and several other faculty members. I stood in front of her, head bowed. I awaited my fate. "Katie, you realize how serious this is?" she asked me. "Yes ma'am," I nodded. "We really should expel you, however, after some discussion, we have decided to give you a second chance." I felt jubilation. My life wasn't ruined after all. "An old friend of mine needs a volunteer for a research project," Ms. Turring continued. "And you still need your social studies credits, yes?" "Yes ma'am," I said. "It is a six month program, and I'm not going to lie to you, this study is very invasive and difficult," she said. "But the alternative is expulsion." I looked back at her timidly. "Are you willing to do it?" "Yes ma'am," I said. I snap back to reality. I'm back in my robe, sitting in the clinic. A gentle-looking woman in her 30s walks into the examination room, with the stern nurse on her heels. She extends her arm out to me. "I'm Dr. Manyard, how are you feeling?" she asks, shaking my hand firmly. "Uh... okay, I guess," I answer shyly. I see four other people come into the room. I recognize one of them –Mr. Jeffries and Ms. Turring! Oh God, they're going to see all this too? I look over at Ms. Turring really quick – she doesn't make eye contact. The doctor breaks away from the group and picks up the clipboard, glancing over my answers. "Nurse, could you get Katie's height and weight, please?" she tells the stern woman beside her. The nurse takes me by the arm and practically pulls me over to the scale in the corner of the room. As I stand on the scale she steps behind me and pulls my shoulders back. "Stop slouching!" she growls at me. After scribbling down my numbers, the nurse lets me step back off the scale. "You can sit down now," Dr. Manyard says with a smile, gesturing over to the table. I place my hands on the table and lift myself up. The paper liner covering the surface crinkles loudly as I sit down. The doctor hands me a new form with a signature line at the bottom. "You may feel a bit embarrassed about all this, but everything that we'll do today and for the next six weeks will be entirely confidential," the doctor tells me. "In this study we will be studying your sexuality – you might feel uncomfortable at times but don't worry – nothing you do or say here leaves these walls." I feel a little bit better. She seems nice, certainly nicer than the nurse. "Just show up to every appointment on time and obey instructions, and you'll be fine. Understand?" she asks, smiling sympathetically. I nod. "But I do need to warn you that if you don't cooperate or otherwise disqualify yourself from the study, we will report it back to your school board, and they'll resume disciplinary action against you. Okay?" I nod again. Dr. Manyard smiles approvingly. "Okay dear, just sign the consent form, and we'll start." I scribble my signature on the paper and hand it back to her. She picks up some more forms from the counter next to the sink. I can hear Mr. Jeffries coughing. God, this is so humiliating. I can't wait for this to be over. "You're doing just fine dear, " the doctor says, turning on a voice recorder and setting it down on the counter. "Okay," I answer back. "Now Katie..." Dr. Manyard starts. "On the questionnaire you stated you had an orgasm three months ago, is that right?" "Um, yes," I blush. "How did you achieve orgasm?" "What do you mean?" I ask in disbelief. "Did you have sex with another person or did you masturbate?" "I... I masturbated," I say, painfully aware that I am the center of attention for a room full of people. "When was the last time you were sexually active with another person?" she asks. "In high school, before I started college," I murmur, growing more embarrassed. "With a boy?" "Y-yes, I had a boyfriend." The doctor finishes writing down my answers and stares at her clipboard, thinking for a moment before asking her next question. "Can you count how many orgasms you've had in your life?" I blush again. Not even just because I'm being asked embarrassing questions like this. I'm embarrassed because I know exactly how many orgasms I've had, and the number is so low. "About eight," I stammer. "That's okay dear, nothing to be ashamed of," Dr. Manyard tells me. "And I take it you had all these orgasms by masturbating?" "Yes," I answer. "Do you watch pornography when you masturbate?" she asks me. "No." "Have you ever watched pornography?" I shake my head. "Okay, that's all the questions for now," she says with a smile, passing the clipboard to the nurse. "Now we'll start the diagnostic exam." My mind is racing, thinking about what she is going to do to me. I'm nervous, but at the same time, the tingling sensation between my thighs is growing. To my shame, I can't help but feel slightly turned on by this whole situation. "Go ahead and open your robe for me," the doctor says, washing her hands in the sink and putting on a pair of gloves. The nurse pushes a machine up to the table and attaches several wires with adhesive cups to my chest and lower stomach. "These are just sensors to monitor your vitals during the diagnostic exam," the doctor explains. I nod nervously. "Are you experiencing any pain right now, on a scale of one to ten, one being 'none,' and ten being 'extreme,?'" she asks. "No," I say. "Mmmkay... now one a scale of one to ten, how aroused are you?" "Huh?" I ask. "How aroused are you?" she says again. "Ten being having an orgasm right now, and one being completely un-aroused." "Uh..." I stammer. I glance over at the other people, they're unmoved. Just her asking me this is a little exciting. I squeeze my legs together, trying to smother the betraying sensation. "Be honest," she smiles. It's as if she can read my mind. "Err... two, I guess," I answer, finally. "Alright," she says. Dr. Manyard takes her stethoscope to my chest, listening intently. I'm so nervous I can't help but squirm. "You need to sit still," the doctor tells me, a stern note in her voice. "If you move around, you could knock the sensors loose. It is important you don't move at all." I gulp and try to stop moving. She continues examining me. "Breathe in," she says. "Now out." "Breathe in." "Breathe out." The doctor mumbles some numbers to the nurse, who scribbles them down on her clipboard. The doctor pushes my chin back and feels my pulse. Dr. Manyard puts away the stethoscope. She gives some more numbers to the nurse. She takes me by the waist and pulls me closer a few inches. The doctor wraps her hand around my throat and her other hand forces my mouth open. She rolls her fingers over my tongue and teeth. "Dental hygiene appears to be good," she says to the nurse. Dr. Manyard releases my head and presses her fingers into my stomach. "Does this hurt?" "No," I whisper. She slips the robe off my shoulders and continues pressing her fingers into my side and back, repeating the question each time. "No pain or discomfort detected," she tells the nurse. Ms. Turring is watching me from across the room attentively. Her touch suddenly gets lighter, her gloved hands tracing lightly over my skin. It tickles a little, and I can't help squirming under her hands. "You need to keep still," she tells me again. "You move one more time, I will have you restrained for the rest of the session." I heed her warning and stop moving. She runs her hands over my collarbone, and moves down between my chest. I bite my lip as the doctor's touch rolls over my nipples. I force myself to not make a sound as she lightly flicks one, and then the other. Dr. Manyard sees my reaction and turns to the nurse. "Subject experiences sexual pleasure to nipple stimulation," she says. I blush with embarrassment. I can't believe I'm acting like this. I just have to keep my mind off things, and wait for it to be over. The doctor lets go of my breasts and moves down my belly. She brushes aside the open robe and parts my legs. I shy away. "Nurse, restrain her!" the doctor says. The nurse walks around the table and takes me by the arms, pinning me in place. I feel the crackle of Velcro as she binds my wrists together behind my back. The doctor continues her exam on me. Her hands trace over my inner thighs. I clamp my jaw shut as the doctor's fingers graze over my pussy, sending spikes of pleasure up my body. Jesus, I can't believe this is turning me on. "Mmmmff..." I stifle a tiny moan as the doctor glides her fingers through the building wetness between my warm lips. I look up at her trying to conceal my horror and shame. She smiles back at me. "Moderate levels of arousal fluid detected. I am collecting a sample." She wipes the building dampness off my pussy with a swab and drops it into a test tube. The doctor puts on her stethoscope again, and listens to my chest in several places like she did the first time. "Breathe in." "Breathe out." "How aroused are you now?" she asks me. I feel completely humiliated, but at the same time strangely comfortable with telling her the truth. Not that there's any point in lying now. "Uhh... ummm... four." I say. The doctor puts her hand around my throat, pushing my head back. With the other hand she gently rubs my clit, sending spasms of pleasure shooting up my stomach. My bound hands writhe helplessly behind my back. The doctor pauses and turns to the others. "Subject experiences sexual pleasure to vaginal stimulation." Dr. Manyard resumes touching me. She looks at me in the eyes as she teases my clit, studying my face intently. She slips two fingers back inside of me, sending jolts of pleasure into my core. Wetness drips out from my parted lips and onto the tissue paper of the table. My whole body is shaking from the relentless sensual assault, and I feel the nurse's grip tighten around my arms. I can't help myself anymore. I start to moan helplessly. A Cheater's Regret Pt. 02 Hey everyone, thanks for dropping by! If you haven't read Part 1 yet, I strongly suggest you do so before continuing. Part 1 can be found here: http://www.literotica.com/s/a-cheaters-regret ***** Jesus, if I had known it would be so cold today I wouldn't have worn a skirt. I escape the chilly cold of winter as I step back into my dorm building. I reach my door and slide my key into the lock. I walk into the cold darkness. My roommate Melanie is gone. Probably out partying with her bimbo friends. The door swings shut with a bang behind me and I almost jump through the ceiling. Looks like Melanie forgot to close the window. Why would that dumb bitch even open it in the first place? Its not until that moment that the gravity of what just happened to me sinks in. I remember the fear when the nurse ordered me to strip. I remember the humiliation as Dr. Manyard molested me in front of a room full of people. I remember the pure pleasure I felt as she forced me to have the most wonderful, explosive orgasm of my entire life. Banishing the guilty thoughts to the back of my mind, I cross the room to shut the window. I feel dirty. A warm shower is one of the few joys I get out of winter. But today, the white tiled bathroom reminds me too much of the medical room where I was sexually humiliated. I shudder at the thought of what happened to me - but strangely, I don't regret it. I want to, but I don't. I undress, tossing my clothes into the laundry hamper in the corner. I blush as I slip off my drenched panties. It has been more than an hour, but my pussy is still dripping wet with excitement. I feel like a slut. The steel sensor collar and bracelet are annoying, but I am starting to get used to them. I feel shocked and embarrassed at the thought of wearing them in public, but fortunately, they look pretty unobtrusive. I could pass them off as fashionable jewelry - the uninformed person wouldn't be able to guess their actual purpose... and the fact that I cannot take them off. I feel like a slave, completely at the mercy of Dr. Manyard and her medical staff. The hot water feels good, but it doesn't help wash away the guilt and confusion I feel. I slip my hand between my legs, washing away the sticky wetness. My lips are still swollen and aching with desire. I remember the doctor's gloved hands teasingly skating over my body. My fingers find my clit. A soft gasp escapes my lips. It's strange, I don't consider myself a sexual person at all. I went months without ever pleasuring myself, yet here I am barely an hour after the examination completely lost in a sexual fantasy. I remember Dr. Manyard forbidding me from having another orgasm. The desperate urge for relief is building, I have to force myself to stop. Desperately fighting against the rising pressure in my pussy, I pull my fingers out. I just barely stopped myself from coming. God, that was close. I touch the collar around my throat. If I had an orgasm, Dr. Manyard would know, and I would be expelled for sure. I shut off the water and grab a towel to dry myself off. I head back into my room. Melanie is back. God, I hate her. She's considerably taller than me - a lanky, somewhat awkward-looking girl with mousy-brown hair. Not very attractive, but she overcompensates by being a party animal. What does she even study again? Nursing I think. Well, I guess if that doesn't work out for her there's always hooking. I know she's the one who ratted on me about writing Matthew's paper. I hate her so much. Yet, sickeningly, I'm glad things turned out this way. My hate for Melanie is overshadowed by my disgust for myself. God... "Nice necklace," Melanie says. Strange, she rarely engages me in conversation willingly. "Thanks," I mumble, dropping my towel. She looks at me as I fumble with my pajamas. I don't like her looking at me - but the unwanted attention is also exciting. Jesus, I never felt like this ever until today. What the hell is wrong with me? "Dr. Manyard gave it to you, didn't she?" I freeze in horror. How does she know about that? "Yeah..." I confess. "She's one of my instructors in the nursing program," Melanie says. "She showed us the collars in one of her classes. It measures your heart rate and stuff, right?" "Ummm... yeah, that's right," I stutter. "That's cool, are you in that study she's doing?" she asks. Oh God. I blush in embarrassment. "Yes." Melanie's eyes light up. "She's researching like, female sexuality and stuff, right?" I nod. For the first time since we met, Melanie seems genuinely interested in me. "That's really awesome!" she exclaims. "But... you don't have to like... do anything... embarrassing, do you?" My heart is pounding. "Like what?" I ask. "Like... have an orgasm in front of her?" I shake my head vigorously. Melanie seems skeptical. "Oh, okay," she says doubtfully. "Because she showed us some videos from some other girls she was working on, and they had to do a lot of stuff like that." I'm lost for words. God, does Melanie suspect I'm being forced to do that too? "No!" I insist. She looks at me for a minute. I'm still naked. Her gaze moves down my body - does she see how incredibly aroused and wet I still am? "Okay," Melanie says skeptically. She sits down at her desk and opens up her computer. Jesus, that was embarrassing. I finish dressing and go to bed. I'm horny. The sun is out the next morning. The air is warm, and the snow from yesterday has melted away into the fresh green grass. Even some of the birds are out, chirping cheerily from the brush outside the dorm building. The improved weather emboldens me enough to wear a little blue sun dress. It had been sitting in the back of my closet for months - too daring for me to normally want to wear, but today is different. I want to feel pretty today. I slip it on over my head, tucking in my bra straps as best as I can. The bottom hem of the dress ends just below my hips. I'm going to be cold a lot today. I put on a warm jacket over it and sling my backpack over my shoulder. To my dismay, there's already an increasing wetness underneath my panties, which is further inflamed by the updraft of cool air up into my dress. I sit down in my math class. I've been doing good up to this point, but today I have a hard time concentrating. As the teacher is droning on about exponents or something, my mind keeps wandering back to my session at the clinic. My humiliating sexual torment. My massive orgasm as Dr. Manyard fingered my pussy. My hands keep wandering back up to my collar. No one has noticed it or commented on it so far. The collar, and the bracelet matching it, aren't particularly conspicuous. But I know what they're for, and that is enough to keep me hot and bothered. When the doctor downloads the data next week, will she know how horny I've been? Class ends and everyone stands up and starts filing out the door. Nobody likes math, the classroom is usually emptied under a minute. But today I sit still in my chair. The sexual tension is killing me. I want to masturbate. But I know if I start teasing myself, I won't be able to stop. I'll have an orgasm, and Dr. Manyard will know. "Are you alright?" the math teacher asks. "Y-y-yes sir," I gasp, barely able to concentrate enough to get up from my chair and stumble out of the room. God, I still have my English literature class today. I am honestly considering just skipping it. Maybe if I just go to sleep I'll be able to calm down my sexual urges a little. Maybe. This is awful. Why is this happening to me? I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out - its a call from the school administrative office. "H-hello?" I answer, trying my best not to sound horny. "Is this Katie?" the woman on the other end asks. I recognize the voice. It's Ms. Turring's secretary. "Yes, this is Katie." "You need to report to Ms. Turring's office ASAP," she instructs me. "Okay, I'll head over right away," I say. "Alright, we'll see you shortly," she says tersely before hanging up on me. I put the phone away. Gloom settles in. What am I being called in for? Oh no. They've changed their minds and decided to expel me after all. But I tried so hard! I fight back the tears. Ten minutes later I arrive at Ms. Turring's office. The secretary is seated at her desk by the door. "There you are, they're waiting for you inside," she says tersely. Not waiting or caring for a response from me, she goes back to typing at her computer, as if I'm not even there. I glance through the large window behind the secretary into Ms. Turring's office. She's seated at her desk, talking to some people I can't quite see from this angle. I look back at the secretary. I'm invisible to her. Oh well, might as well as well bite the bullet - I take a deep breath and open the door. Ms. Turring is talking to a man and a woman in lab coats. "Ah, Katie, come in," Ms. Turring says. "These two people are here to see you from Dr. Manyard's clinic." The woman, a slender blonde with a a blue ribbon tying back her pony tail, smiles and shakes my hand. "Hi, I'm Samantha Cross, I'm from the clinic," she tells me, "You can call me Sam." I nod nervously. I stare at the stray strands of blonde hair framing Sam's heart-shaped face, her full lips, and the hint of her gentle curves underneath the lab coat. "You're not in any trouble, Katie," Sam assure me. "We're just conducting a follow-up from your session with Dr. Manyard yesterday." "Okay," I say, feeling relieved already. I was scared they were here to tell me I was being disqualified. Thank God. "I'm going to collect some data from your sensor collar, and conduct a quick physical exam on you," she continues. "Go ahead and undress for me." I pause for a moment. They're going to examine me right here? The secretary is clearly visible outside the office window. If she looked back, she would plainly see what is going on. I look over at the blonde's male counterpart - he clears a vase of flowers from a table on the other side of the office and lays out a strip of tissue paper, like the one covering the metal table during my session at the clinic yesterday. I don't know what's about to happen, but I can make a really good guess. I take off my jacket and my shoes. Sam is messing with a laptop set up up on the corner of Ms. Turring's desk. Sam's male counterpart finishes with the tissue paper and comes over to help her. I reluctantly pull my sun dress over my head. All I have left on is my underwear. I hesitate. I really don't want to get naked here of all places. Sam stops her work and looks at me. "Is there a problem?" she asks. "Are you having second thoughts about the study?" "No, no!" I say. I finally work up the nerve to reach behind my back and unsnap my bra. Jesus, my nipples are already rock hard. Both of the technicians watch me impatiently. Ms. Turring on the other hand seems more focused on whatever is on her computer screen. She picks up the phone and dials a number. I hear her talking to whoever is on the other end about some email she is reading. I take off my panties and add them to the stack of clothing on the floor. "Sit on the table," Sam orders me. I obey. I'm quivering with anticipation. What is Sam going to do to me? She picks up a cable attached to her computer and snaps it into my collar. "You alright?" "Y-yes," I stammer. "I'm good." "Okay, now I'm going to ask some questions while the collar uploads," she tells me. "Has anything noteworthy happened since your session yesterday?" "No," I answer. "In that time, have you had an orgasm?" "No," I answer again. The blonde doesn't talk right away, she's engrossed with her screen. I see concern flash across her face. "According to the sensors, at approximately 5 PM yesterday, you were extremely sexually aroused," she says. "Were you masturbating?" I feel busted. Will Sam be angry with me? "Yes... I did... a little," I confess. "But you stopped yourself before you reached orgasm?" "Yes," I say. "The collar confirms that - increasing sexual pleasure, but you didn't climax - so no harm done," Sam says. "What were you doing when you started to masturbate?" "I was in the shower." "What were you thinking about?" I'm slow to answer, its so embarrassing. "Were you thinking about your session with Dr. Manyard?" she asks, as if she already knew the answer. "Yes," I blush. Sam pauses to write some notes on a clipboard, her lovely red lips pursed in concentration. "What specifically were you thinking about from the session?" Wow. "I... I... I was thinking about... Dr. Manyard..." "When she was sexually stimulating you?" Sam finishes for me. "Yes," I whisper. "Alright... so you were in the shower, and you started having a sexual fantasy about what happened to you at the clinic?" I nod. I'm too embarrassed to even speak. "And you started to masturbate?" I nod again. "What made you stop?" It takes me a while to answer, but I finally work up the courage. Its weird expressing my sexual thoughts to a complete stranger, but stranger things have happened to me lately. "I was afraid of being punished." "I see," Sam says, writing on her clipboard. "Subject continues to exhibit submissive tendencies." She snaps on a pair of gloves and picks up a stethoscope. My heart jumps into my throat as she presses it against my chest. "Breathe in," she says. "Breathe out." "Breathe in." "Breathe out." She puts down the stethoscope. "How aroused are you right now?" she asks. "One being not aroused at all, ten being in the middle of an orgasm." "Uhh... five? Yeah, five," I answer. "Dr. Manyard informed me that you are very easy to sexually stimulate and have a hard time staying still," she says. "Would you like to be restrained?" I remember the nurse tying me up yesterday. I remember how completely helpless I was as she pinned my arms as the doctor abused me. "Yes," I say. I feel my desire rising up between my legs as the male technician grabs my wrists and ties them behind my back with a velcro strip. Sam turns on a voice recorder and puts it down on the table near my leg. On the other side of the window there's a student talking to the secretary. He happens to look up and sees me through the glass - his expression contorts in confusion and excitement. I can see his disappointment as the secretary sends him away. The blonde casually runs her fingertips over my nipples. I can barely hold back a moan, but she can see the pleasure rising up in my face. "Subject is responsive to nipple stimulation," she says. My hands writhe behind my back, I am completely helpless - my blonde tormenter can do whatever she wants to me. Sam forces my legs apart and rubs her hand up my pussy lips. Her fingertips pause teasingly over my clit, sending spasms of arousal into my stomach. "Ooh!" I whimper. "Subject experiences high levels of sexual pleasure to vaginal stimulation and is vocalizing," she says. Sam looks me in the eyes. I look back, desperately trying to hide how incredibly turned on I am. "I have been instructed to collect at least 50 milliliters of arousal fluid from you," she tells me. My eyes widen with shock. "Don't worry," she assures me. "I'll be gentle." "I know you have class soon, I am giving you a letter excusing you if you are running late," Ms. Turring interjects. I still feel apprehensive. "I know you are extremely aroused right now, I'll be careful not to induce an orgasm" Sam assures me. "We will take as long as we need to." The male technician sets up a mobile monitor machine on the table and attaches several suction cups to my chest. The blonde opens up her medical kit and produces a small vacuum tube. It reminds me of the kind the dentist used when I got my teeth cleaned. Except this one has a soft, padded rubber cup at the end. The blonde puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back on the table. I feel the sterile tissue paper crinkle under me. "Ready when you are," the male says. "Okay... just relax," Sam instructs me. I tremble in excitement. What is this going to feel like? I find out quickly. The blonde gently manipulates my body - every touch, every stroke, every soft caress of her gloved hands sends shock waves of pleasure up and down my spine. She tenderly cups my breast and takes my hardened nipple in between her fingers. "Oh God..." I moan. She gently parts my lips in between her fingers, and I feel the buzz of the vacuum tube gently sucking away the building dampness. "How are we doing?" she asks. "Good," the male replies. "I'll let you know if you push her too far." Sam lightly strokes my clit back and forth. I feel the sexual buildup gushing out, only to be sucked into the whirring rubber mouth. I feel a drip escape from my lips and run down toward the tissue paper - the technician chases after it and catches it with the hose. "Oh... oh... oh God..." I gasp. "You're doing great, hang in there," she says sweetly. I jump as the office door suddenly swings open. Its the secretary and one of the other office assistants, a pretty little brunette. "Jones wants to know if you're still going to the faculty meeting today," she says to Ms. Turring. "Why would he even ask, why wouldn't I?" Ms. Turring answers, sounding exasperated. I wish I was invisible. All these people just going about their day while I'm tied up and naked on a table, being sexually objectified. "I also have some release forms for you to sign," the secretary says, handing Ms. Turring a folder. I feel the Sam's fingers dip into my pussy. "Ooohhhhh!" I moan desperately. Ms. Turring closes up the folder and hands it back to her secretary. My moans are getting louder and louder, but no one seems to notice. "Ma'am, do you have the draft notes from the meeting yesterday?" the brunette office assistant asks. "Hmmm, oh, I think I left it on that table," Ms. Turring replies, gesturing in my direction. "Yeah, its still there, I forgot to move it before we started, sorry," the male technician says. The office assistant approaches me. I look up at her, my cheeks bright red with shame. She slides her hand underneath me and lifts me up by my bound wrists. Sam starts to vigorously stroke my clit, mopping up my wetness with the hose. "Ooooohhhhhhh God, oh God!" The office assistant holds me firmly, retrieving the hidden folder underneath the tissue paper. I'm shaking and gasping in pleasure under the Sam's cruel fingers. I look up at the office assistant, a moan slipping past my lips. "I think you're really brave for doing this," she says to me with a smile. She nods to Ms. Turring and follows the secretary back out the door. I feel myself about to come at any second, but Sam holds me right at the edge, continuing to skate the torturous suction cup across my soaked pussy. She torments me for what seems like an eternity. Finally, its over. Sam releases me and turns off the vacuum hose. "All done, you can get dressed," she smiles, pulling the sensor cups from my chest. I'm so horny I am literally going insane. The man unties me and I stumble back over to my clothes. As I finish dressing, Ms. Turring hands me an envelope. "You're running late, give this to your teacher when you get to class." Sam holds me back from leaving right away, handing me a business card. "You are still forbidden from having an orgasm until the next session," she says. "Hold out as long as you can, but if the pressure is too much, you can call the clinic, and Dr. Manyard might agree to let you come early." "O-o-okay," I stammer. "We're open nine to five on week days, call any time during those hours to set up an appointment." A Cheater's Regret Pt. 02 When I pass the secretary on my way out she doesn't even acknowledge me. She has to know what just happened to me in there. She must think I am a complete slut. Every time I think I couldn't be humiliated any more, something even more degrading happens. As make my way through the school, I feel the heat growing between my thighs. Despite the vacuum tube sucking away at me for half an hour, my sexual buildup has already returned in full force. I want to come so bad, but I can't. I get to my English class. I look at the clock - I'm almost 45 minutes late. I'm so horny my knees are wobbling. Jesus, everyone is looking at me. I approach the professor and give him the envelope from Ms. Turring. I haven't even looked at the letter yet, I don't know what it says. "You're in Dr. Manyard's sexual research program?" he asks me, taking off his glasses. "Yes sir," I reply. "Ms. Turring says in this note that you might be too flustered to be able to participate in class, and can be excused if you wish," he says. "No, I'm okay," I tell him, hurrying to my seat. I try my best to focus in class, but I can't. My need for relief is overwhelming, and I am completely helpless. Try to think about something else. Try to think about something else. Try to think about something else... its not working. The hands of the clock sluggishly creep toward 3:00 PM. I know we're due for another break then, and I'm practically dying for it. All I can think about is the humiliation I just endured in Ms. Turring's office... and it's driving me wild. The teacher stops his lecture, and announces a fifteen minute break. Thank God. A nerdy looking guy with glasses sitting in the row in front of me motions the students next to him and they crowd around his computer screen. I find myself looking too - anything to get my mind off of the growing desire inside of me. He brings up a video. To my horror, it's a girl with raven-black hair strapped to a table at Dr. Manyard's clinic. She's completely naked, every inch of her bare skin glistening with sweat. Her chest is heaving up and down as gloved hands fasten cables to her small brown nipples. She is wearing a steel collar and a bracelet just like mine. The volume is turned down, but its just loud of enough for me to hear the poor girl moan uncontrollably as the current shoots through her body. I feel pressure building up in between my thighs. I think my own humiliating session at the clinic. I think about what Sam just did to me in Ms. Turring's office. "What is this?" one of the guys asks. "It's that sex study I told you about," the nerd replies. "They're doing all this crazy research into female sexual behavior." "Cool!" The raven-haired girl is begging for mercy. "Please... please let me come!" she pleads. "I will induce an orgasm when I have the data I need," a voice says. I recognize it. Its Dr. Manyard's voice. The helpless girl's body spasms in pleasure to the rhythm of the electrical current. The gloved hand returns and starts playing with her drenched pussy. "Subject is response to level 4 current, and has extreme levels of arousal fluid," the doctor says. I stare into the screen, completely entranced. My hand wanders underneath the hem of my sun dress and starts teasing my wet lips. I try to be quiet but accidentally let out a moan. "Oh..." One of the boys looks back at me, and I try to appear as innocent as possible - but my hand stays in between my legs. Suddenly the raven-haired girl screams as her orgasm splashes out across the table. The nerd sees the teacher walking nearby and quickly closes the video. With every ounce of effort I can muster, I force myself to stop masturbating. I thought I was incredibly aroused earlier, now I feel ten times worse. "Wow..." one of his friends says. "Where do they find those girls?" "The girls are all students at the school," the nerd says. "And they just volunteer?" "Nah, from what I understand, usually its because they got in trouble, but are given the option of doing this instead of facing discipline." "Damn dude!" "It gets better," the nerd replies. "The girls are required to wear a sensor collar and bracelet throughout the week in between their appointments." I become incredibly self-aware of my own collar clearly visible around my neck. God, I hope they don't recognize it. By the time class is over, I realize I have no choice but to call the clinic and move up my appointment. There is no chance of me making it another six days in this condition. I step out into the hallway and look at my phone. Its almost four in the afternoon, but they should still be open. I frantically call the number the blonde researcher gave me earlier. My heart sinks. All I get is a voicemail. They must have closed early today. I have to wait until tomorrow. I slink back to my dorm room - I can't even walk without inflaming my burning arousal. Melanie is already back. She gives me an odd look as I come in. "Are you okay?" she asks with genuine concern in her voice. "I'm fine I mutter," dropping my bag and slumping down on the bed. "You don't sound okay." I don't answer. Why doesn't that bitch just mind her own business? It's a long night. I lay awake for hours, until my drowsiness finally wins out over my aching desire. The next morning comes way too quickly. I groggily reach out to my alarm clock. Its six in the morning. I'm still horny. Thank God I don't have any classes today. The clinic opens at nine. I sit up in bed, staring at the clock, desperately waiting for the minutes to slip by. I look over at Melanie - she's still asleep. Good. I dial the clinic the second the clock strikes nine. Shit, the voicemail message comes up again. I redial. Still no one picks up. I dial again. And again. And again. And again. Finally, someone answers. "Manyard clinic, this is Samantha Cross, how can I help you?" My arousal flares up. It's Sam - the blonde technician who sexually tormented me yesterday. "Umm... this is Katie, the girl from yesterday," I say. "Hello Katie, what is going on?" she asks flatly. "I-I-I... I need to come in... please, as soon as possible!" Sam pauses for a long time before answering. "Are you worried you won't be able to hold back from an orgasm before your scheduled appointment?" "Yes!" I gasp. "Just a minute," Sam puts me on hold. I listen to the stupid jingling tone for what seems like a million years. Finally, Sam returns to the phone. "Katie?" "Yes?" I answer. "How aroused are you right now?" she asks. "One being not aroused at all, and ten being in the middle of an orgasm?" "Uh... six." I say. "Hold on," Sam puts me on hold again. God, it feels like an eternity. "Katie?" "Yes!" I answer, trying not to sniffle into the phone. "You're in luck, there is a slot open for you to come in today. Is four in the afternoon good?" "Yes, that's fine, thank you so much!" I cry, completely overjoyed. "We will see you then," Sam hangs up. I put the phone down. Seven hours to go. I squeeze my legs together in a pitiful attempt to fight back the rising pressure. I bite my lip desperately. Hot tears run down my face as I break down sobbing. This is so awful - I am so horny its maddening. I can't take it anymore! The rest of the morning and early afternoon are a nightmare of overwhelming desire and anticipation. All I can think about is my desperate need for sexual relief, but the more I think about what they are going to do to me at the clinic, the hornier and more miserable I get. Finally I can't take it anymore, and decide to leave - if I get there early, maybe they'll see me early. Smoothing out the wrinkles in my sun dress, I get myself ready. I don't own a car, and I would never dare ask someone for a ride for this. I'm taking the bus, just like I did last time. As I walk to the bus stop outside the dorm building, my heart skips a beat. Its the redhead I saw snooping around in the clinic yesterday. She's dressed in torn jeans, a low-cut tank top, and an old leather jacket. But above all else, she wears a certain cockiness about her that I don't like. Oh God, she recognizes me. "Hey," she says, stepping up next to me. I ignore her, silently praying for the bus to show up soon. "My name is Lori Franklin, and I'm the editor for the student newspaper," she says. I don't respond. She looks at the collar around my throat. "You don't have to do this, you know." I turn to look at her. "Do what?" I ask innocently. She rolls her eyes. "Come on now, I know what happened to you in the clinic yesterday." I blush with embarrassment. "I know what Dr. Manyard is doing is wrong, I just need to prove it," Lori continues. Could that bus please show up now? Lori reaches into her purse and pulls out a scrap of paper. "This is my cellphone number and email, call me if you decide you want to talk to me," she says, slipping the paper into the top of my bra. I stand still as she walks away. Could she really help me? What if I don't want to be helped? The bus finally arrives and I hop on board. I just want to get to the clinic. God, I just want to get to the clinic and get my sanity back. I arrive an hour early. I walk into the waiting room with the stupid fish. There's several other people hanging around. It's so weird seeing normal human beings here for normal reasons, unlike me. I knock on the door. Maybe someone will let me in early. The door opens. I step back in fear - its the stern nurse. "Why are you so early?" she asks gruffly. "I... I...err..." I don't know what to say. I can see the total contempt in her eyes. She seems to have made it her personal goal to make my life difficult. "Turn around and put your hands behind your back," she mutters, exasperated. I obey, and I feel the nurse strapping my wrists together. A couple of the other people in the room look at me strangely. Why does the nurse have to humiliate me in front of all these strangers? The nurse pulls me by the arm into the dark hallway, leading me through one of the doors into an examination room. It's much larger than the previous ones I've been in, filled with various machines and lots of chairs. In the dead center of the room is a metal bench. Is that where they're going to put me? "Undress," she snaps at me, untying my wrists. I fumble with my jacket - I'm so nervous I can barely grab the zipper. I keep glancing around - there are people moving about there business up and down the hallway. Do I really have to get naked out here? The nurse grows impatient, and grabs me by the scruff of the neck. "Hurry up!" she snarls at me. Terrified, I undress as fast as I can, dropping the dress and tearing off my underwear. As soon as I'm done she ties me up again and forces me to sit down on the bench. "Wait here, it'll probably be a while," the nurse says, disappearing out the door, propping it open behind her. This might be the scariest time of my whole life. What if someone sees me as they pass by the open door? Minutes tick by by. I glance over at the clock on the wall across from me - its only 3:30! I have a whole half hour of more waiting! Several girls pass by the doorway and see me. My cheeks turn crimson as they giggle at me. The hour hand hits four. Nothing happens. I start to panic. The sexual pressure is so high I feel like I could die! To my relief, Dr. Manyard arrives. But to my dismay, the nurse, Sam, and at least a dozen other people follow her into the room. I recognize a few of them... they're students from school! "How are you doing today, sweetie?" Dr. Manyard asks. "O-okay I guess," I respond. My heart jumps into my throat. "This is Katie, our test subject for the day," she says to the audience. "She is participating in the program as punishment for an academic infraction." My heart skips a beat with excitement as the doctor pushes me down on the table, running her stethoscope over my chest. "How aroused are you?" she asks. "Um... seven," I say, already short of breath. The doctor steps behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders. The nurse puts sensor pads from the monitor machine on my chest. "Katie here is probably our most submissive subject, and is extremely easy to sexually pleasure," Dr. Manyard explains to her students. "I could in fact, in her current state of arousal, I could induce an orgasm in under a minute." To demonstrate, she takes one of my nipples in between her gloved fingers and massages my clit. I don't want to look like a whore in front of everyone, but within seconds I'm moaning loudly. "Take a look at the machine everyone," the doctor says, releasing me to gesture towards the monitor machine. "We can see all of her vitals, how aroused she is, how much stimulation she is receiving, and approximately how close she is to an orgasm." "Isn't it difficult to get a subject sexually aroused in a lab like this?" one of the male students asks. "And what about individual morals?" "That's a good question," the doctor answers. "In Katie's case, she had a conservative upbringing and one would think would be difficult to work with. However, whether she wants to or not, she enjoys being sexually dominated, and will submit to anyone - male or female." Several students giggle. I try to look as stoic as possible. "Katie is very easy to sexually stimulate, and actually experienced an orgasm too quickly in her first session a couple days ago," Dr. Manyard continues. "This morning she asked to have her next session early because she was too aroused to wait any longer." Everyone looks at me with a mix of amazement, amusement... and contempt. "Today we are going to explore Katie's ability to have multiple orgasms," the doctor says. "For the test to be successful, we need to induce at least three separate climaxes." Jesus. "Now who would like to try her out?" A female with her dark hair in a tight bun and her face framed in large bottlecap glasses volunteers. The doctor hands her a pair of rubber gloves and a sealed bag with a... is that a vibrator? Oh God, it is. "Try to stimulate her, and watch the readings on the machine. But most importantly, pay close attention to her reaction to you." The girl eases me down on the bench and parts my legs. I gasp as she gently skates her hands across my body, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples. I giggle with delight as her fingers run down my tummy and dip into my belly button. I squirm as she tickles my inner thighs. I desperately want her to touch my pussy, but she just teasingly skates around the building dampness. The girl's fingers suddenly rub over my clit and dive in between my soaked lips. "Aaaaaahhhhh!" I squeal. The girl lets out a gasp of surprise as my orgasm gushes out over her fingers. "First orgasm achieved at four minutes, six seconds," the nurse says. My sexual relief is only momentary, as the girl quickly gets me worked up again. She takes her hand, still dripping from the sloppy mess of my first orgasm, and puts it in my mouth. I'm forced to taste my own cum. I recoil at first, but after a moment of hesitation, I'm lapping up every last drop from her fingertips. I'm draped across the bench, completely obedient to her every touch. The girl's face is just inches away from mine. She's not particularly pretty, but her power over me is impossible for me to resist. I want her to do whatever she pleases to me. I want her to publicly degrade me, use me, and humiliate me. Her lips get closer to mine. I can feel her breath on my face. I want her to kiss me. A buzz fills my ears as the vibrator turns on and I feel it enter me. I scream in pleasure. "Second orgasm achieved at six minutes, fifteen seconds," the nurse says. The girl is showing me no mercy now. She pushes the vibrator deeper and deeper into my pussy. "Fuck me, please... fuck me!" I beg. She laughs at me and pushes harder. I orgasm again. "Third orgasm achieved at eight minutes, 57 seconds," the nurse says. If the nurse wasn't counting, I would lose count of how many times the girl is making me come. The girl kisses me. I feel her tongue push mine aside. She bites my lip aggressively before trailing tender bites down my throat. The girl takes my swollen nipple in her mouth and rolls her tongue over it, nibbling and sucking, making me gasp uncontrollably. "Oh my God... Oh my God! Oh... my... God!!" "Sixth orgasm achieved at 24 minutes, 32 seconds." I don't know how it is even possible for me to come this many times, but I am. The vibrator pulls out, completely drenched by my impossible number of orgasms. What else could she possibly do to me? I feel her head move in between my legs. Her tongue enters me. My moans are so loud they're echoing off the walls. A few licks is all it takes. "OhohGodohGod... ohGodohGodoh - Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!" The whole room is silent. One could hear a pin drop. "Tenth orgasm achieved at 47 minutes, 10 seconds," the nurse says. Everyone breaks into enthusiastic applause. "That was... unconventional, but quite a show nonetheless," Dr. Manyard says. Maybe... just maybe... getting caught cheating wasn't so bad after all. A Cheater's Regret "The subject is vocalizing," Dr. Manyard says, taking her hands off me. She starts running her stethoscope over me again. "How aroused are you?" "God, uhh, errr... six or seven," I gasp. "You're pushing her too close to orgasm," Mr. Jeffries says. "You haven't even started the routine yet..." "Don't worry about it, everything is under control," Dr. Manyard assures him. "At this rate, she is going to climax before you've even finished the diagnostic!" Mr. Jeffries says. It's weird and degrading to hear these people discussing me like a lab specimen. But at the same time, strangely, it's also a huge turn on. "I'm surprised she was aroused that quickly," Ms. Turring says. "Especially in a clinical setting like this." "She's young and sexually inexperienced," the doctor says. "This is probably all new and exciting for her. Medically inducing an orgasm won't be difficult. The hard part will be holding her back long enough to get the biometric data we need." "Maybe you could wait for her to cool down a bit?" Ms. Turring suggests. "No," Dr. Manyard says. I didn't expect to have a subject who is sexually stimulated so easily. We're getting readings far more quickly and accurately than I expected. We're having a great run, let's keep it up." Mr. Jeffries shakes his head in disagreement. The doctor looks back at me. "You're doing great, sweetie," Dr. Manyard assures me. "Keep your chin up!" I feel a little bit better. "I'm going to apply some current," she says. "Is that a good idea?" Ms. Turring asks. "I don't think she can take much more punishment." "Its fine, I won't push her too far," Dr. Manyard says. One of the male technicians produces a handheld box with two wire connectors protruding from it. The doctor takes it from him and approaches me. "We are just going to apply a low electrical current to your body," she explains to me. My eyes widen with fear. "Don't worry, it won't hurt," she assures me. "It'll just come as a bit of a shock, that's all." The nurse leans backward as the doctor clamps one of the wires to my nipple and holds the other one to my stomach just above my belly button. "Okay dear, three... two... one..." I squeal in surprise as the electricity springs into my nipple and down my chest. It's painful at first, but I after a couple seconds I get used to it. I hear myself starting to moan. Dr. Manyard switches off the current, to my relief and disappointment. "Subject is responsive to current, level 1," she says. "I'm increasing the voltage to level 2. She moves the second wire from my stomach to my other nipple. Oh God, this can't be happening. I'm being used in front of all these people. The current starts up again with no warning. The nurse holds me firmly as I buck backward, moaning louder and louder. I feel more aroused with each passing second. The current stops just as suddenly as it started. "Alright, the subject is extremely responsive to the current... what's your arousal level now sweetie?" I'm so horny I can can barely even think straight. "I – I – I think... eight, yes, eight," I moan. "One more time, staying at level 2," Dr. Manyard says. "She could have an orgasm at any moment now!" Mr. Jeffries protests. "Don't be so dramatic, I'll be careful," the doctor tells him. She snaps the end of the wire into a small metal rod, about two inches long and the width of a pencil, and moves it in between my thighs. She gently slips the rod inside of me. Oh God. I scream wildly as the current shoots into my core. I feel the pressure building up. Am I really going to have an orgasm in front of everyone? The doctor switches off the current. "The diagnostic is still incomplete, but I think we have more than enough data to continue," she says, removing the wires from me. The rod drips all over my leg and the table as she slides it back out of me. I should be embarrassed, but I'm not. "How aroused are you feeling?" she asks. "Uhm... nine... nine," I whimper. "She was supposed to be at most a five at this stage," Mr. Jeffries says. "She was well past a five before we even started," Dr. Manyard laughs. "We have a problem," one of the technicians says. "The flat-screen doesn't work." "Seriously?" Mr. Jeffries groans. "No one checked it before we started?" "It's alright... what other rooms have a working screen?" Dr. Manyard asks calmly. "Room 137 does," the technician replies. "Alright, we need to get over there right away and hook the subject back up as seamlessly as possible," the doctor says. "Too long a delay could degrade the accuracy of the whole exam." The nurse removes the sensor pads off my chest and pulls me to my feet. "Let's go, quickly!" Dr. Manyard says earnestly. Everyone troops back out into the hallway. I'm still naked, and my hands still tied behind my back. Christ, I hope no one sees me. A couple nurses in lab coats walk past us, their eyes locked on me. I blush. Oh God, I just saw the red-haired girl from the waiting room out of the corner of my eye. I hope she didn't see me. I'm led into a new room. The nurse switches on the lights. There's a vitals monitor identical to the one in the previous room sitting against the wall. There's a television screen suspended on a large arm, not unlike the overhead light at a dentist's chair. In the middle of the room there is a steel table. "Hurry, get everything set back up!" the doctor commands, sending her technicians scrambling to power up the new equipment. The nurse unfastens my wrists and leads me to the bench. "Lay down," she orders me. I obey. I shiver as my bare skin presses against the cold metal. A technician comes over and puts the sensor pads back on my chest. He takes his time doing it, and I can't help but notice his fingers grazing over my breast as he applies the pads. As he finishes attaching the last sensor he quickly pinches my nipple and scurries off. I'm so horny by this point, I don't really even care. Dr. Manyard walks over and listens to my breathing and heart rate again with her stethoscope, jotting down a few notes. "How aroused are you, dear?" "Around eight, I think" I answer. She pulls the television screen up over my head. The nurse places ear buds on me. "Okay Katie, we're going to show you some video now," the doctor tells me. "The clips will start very broad, but depending on your physical reaction, the images shown will gradually become more refined until it exactly matches what you like. Do you understand?" "Not really," I shake my head. "That's okay, you'll understand in a few minutes," she smiles at me. "Kill the lights!" The room goes dark as the screen overhead flickers to life. I watch as a few test patterns flash at me. The blocks of color fade into a scene outside a school, not unlike mine. A young man and woman are flirting by the bus stop. The images and sound wash over me, I feel like I'm right there with them. The guy is some jock, reminds me of Matthew, ugh. The girl is really pretty though. Dark brown hair and wonderful eyes. She smiles, showing perfect little white teeth. The man leans in and kisses the girl passionately, wrapping his arms around her waist. The scene changes again. They're both naked and having sex. Scene changes. Two men are kissing. Eww. Woman performing oral sex on a man. Video clips of various men and women having sex in numerous positions flash on the screen. Two women kissing. A man having sex with two women. "Subject experiences moderate sexual arousal to threesomes," Dr. Manyard says. The erotic scenes flood my senses. My own desire increasing with every passing moment. I run my hands over my body and play with myself. I toy with my hardened nipples and stroke my clit. I'm openly masturbating in front of a whole group of people, I don't even care. All I can think about now is finding relief from my sexual urges. "Don't let her touch herself!" Dr. Manyard says with alarm in her voice. The nurse snatches my hands away and pins my arms to the table. Two of the technicians help her fasten restraints around my wrists and ankles. Now I am completely helpless, only able to watch the erotic scenes unfold in front of me with no way to touch the relentless sexual buildup between my thighs. The scenes continue. Two women in bed, caressing each other passionately. Woman eating out another woman. The camera view switches to a closeup of the woman's face, moaning with pleasure as her partner licks her pussy. I feel the doctor's stethoscope prodding me again. She leans down and whispers into my ear. "How aroused are you?" "Nine," I whisper back. "Do you like those girls?" she asks tenderly. I nod excitedly. "Subject experiences high sexual arousal to lesbians," she says. "She's a lesbian?" Mr. Jeffries asks. "Not necessarily, its pretty common for even straight girls to find lesbian porn appealing," the doctor explains. "She's young and innocent – this is all new to her." Scene after scene flashes up on the screen. They are almost all women now. They are also getting kinkier. I see beautiful girls being tied up and sexually tormented by other women, men, and even whole groups of people. "The subject is showing submissive tendencies," Dr. Manyard states matter-of-factly. "How do we know that?" Mr. Jeffries inquires, clearly still skeptical of the doctor's methods. Ms. Turring answers for her. "Its how she reacts to the camera angles and different closeups. She identifies more with the girls being dominated." The videos end and the screen goes black. The room lights up. I'm gasping for breath, and my arousal is mind numbing. I feel the warm, sticky dampness building between my thighs. I want to reach down and bring myself relief more than ever. But I can't, because my hands are tied to the table. Dr. Manyard presses the stethoscope to my chest. "Try to breathe normally," she tells me. I can't. My breathing is still ragged. "Inhale," she orders me. I obey. "Exhale." "How aroused are you?" Dr. Manyard asks. "Are you really close to a ten?" "Y-y-yes..." I'm so turned on I can barely even speak. She takes my nipple in between her fingers and pinches. I let out a soft moan. "Subject experiences extreme sexual pleasure to nipple stimulation and is vocalizing," she says. I gasp as she brushes her hand in between my legs. "Oooohh..." I whimper. "There are extreme levels of arousal fluid, I am collecting another sample." "Oh!" I moan as I feel the swab rub over my aching pussy. Dr. Manyard puts the swab in a test tube and hands it to the nurse. She starts stroking my clit and dips her fingers into my soaked pussy. Everyone's eyes are on me, and I do my best to stay quiet. But I can't help myself. "Oh! Oh... Oh God!" I gasp. ""Subject is experiencing extreme sexual pleasure to vaginal stimulation. She is making a visible effort not to vocalize, but moans uncontrollably when her clitoris is stimulated." I'm so horny I desperately try to push myself into her fingers, but she places her other hand on my stomach and holds me down. "I have to physically restrain subject from self-inducing an orgasm as I stimulate her," the doctor says, finally releasing me. This has to be the most humiliating experience of my life. Why am I enjoying it so much? "Are you going to be able to complete the procedure?" Mr. Jeffries asks. It'll be tricky," the doctor replies. "She is dangerously close to an orgasm." "How much time do you need?" I hear Ms. Turring's voice say. "I would need to stimulate her for at least thirty minutes to get the readings I need," Dr. Manyard answers. "Will you be needing any tools?" the nurse asks. "No, she's too close to the edge for that," the doctor says. Dr. Manyard touches me on the cheek kindly. "You doing okay, dear?" "Ye-yes," I whisper. "You're almost done sweetie, this is the last test we need to do," she tells me. "I'm going to sexually stimulate you until I induce an orgasm. Understand?" I nod. Dr. Manyard puts a clicker in my hand. "It is very important that you don't climax too quickly. Don't try to resist or fight it, but as soon as you feel yourself about to orgasm, snap the clicker, and I'll ease off. Okay?" I nod again. "If you orgasm before I say you can, it will ruin the testing data for the whole session, and you will be disqualified from the program," she warns me. "And you will be sent back to the school for punishment. Do you understand?" "I understand," I say. "Alright... nurse, start the timer now!" the doctor orders. I look up at her nervously. She squirts some gel onto her gloved hands, rubbing it over her palms and fingers. I can't wait for what is about to happen, but I'm also terrified of her threat. "Just close your eyes and enjoy it," she tells me. The room goes dark again. I lay still on the table, helpless under the restraints. Nothing happens for a few moments. Then I feel it. The featherlight touch of her warm, oily gloved fingers. She is just barely grazing my skin, each glancing touch sending shocks of arousal up and down my body. I am overwhelmed with delight as she strokes my sides. Her touch moves over to my breasts, gently cupping and teasing them. She takes a hold of my nipple and tugs it lightly. "Oooohhh..." I moan quietly. "Subject is vocalizing at 24 seconds." Still cupping my breast, her other hand skates down my stomach. I quiver in anticipation, only to be disappointed as her fingertips change course and run down my leg. "One minute," the nurse calls out. She starts tracing featherlight circles across my stomach and inner thigh, each stroke moving closer and closer to my pussy. "Oh, oh God... oh my God..." Suddenly her fingers slip inside of me. "OOHH!" I panic at for a moment, but I regain control. I can handle this for a few seconds at least. I can do this. "Two minutes," the nurse says. Dr. Manyard rolls her thumb over my clit, sending spasms of pleasure pulse through me. I'm about to come, I can't take it anymore. I snap the clicker. "First break at two minutes, 17 seconds." Dr. Manyard listens to my breathing and heart rate again with her stethoscope. "I don't think she's going to last 30 minutes," Ms. Turring says. "Let's find out," the doctor replies, and firmly rubs her finger across my clit. "AAHH!" I squeal in surprise. "On a scale of one to three, how long could I stimulate you like that before you had an orgasm?" she asks. "One means in a few minutes, two means in a few seconds, and three means almost immediately." "I-immediately... three!" I gasp. "Okay, reset the timer," Dr. Manyard says to the nurse. She resumes running her hands up and down my body. She stops at my nipples and tweaks them over and over again between her fingers. "Oh... oh.... oooohhh..." I don't even mind the fact anyone is watching me anymore. If anything, it's an even bigger turn-on. The doctor lifts one hand and slides it in between my legs. She strokes me slowly at first, but faster and faster. "Oh God... OH GOD!" She presses a finger down on my clit and starts caressing it softly. The building pressure is too much. I snap the clicker again. "18 seconds," the nurse says. 18 seconds? That's it? Oh God. "Hmmm, okay, start the timer again," Dr. Manyard says. Wetness is flowing freely from my soaked lips over her fingers as they penetrate me faster and harder. "Oh God, Oh GOD, OH GOD OH GOD!" I moan uncontrollably. I desperately snap the clicker. "5.2 seconds." "Relax, dear," the doctor tells me. "Start the timer again." The doctor pushes her fingers back into my pussy. She rolls my swollen clit back and forth under her thumb. It's more than I can take. I just barely manage to snap the clicker in time. "1.8 seconds." I don't think I can take much more of this. "Start the timer again." Dr. Manyard skates her fingertips back and forth across my swollen, dripping lips. She doesn't even enter me, and I frantically snap the clipper. ".6 seconds." "I'm checking her vitals again," the doctor says, picking up her stethoscope. She listens to my tortured breathing for a few seconds. "Subject is right on the verge of an orgasm," she says. "I will check her responsiveness again to see if we can continue. Dr. Manyard flicks my nipple. "OHH!" I moan desperately. The sexual buildup is driving me insane. I don't care about anything else in the world – all I want is to come. "Subject experiences extreme sexual pleasure to even the slightest touch to the nipples," she says. She rubs her finger over my clit. "AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" The massive orgasm gushes out of my pussy and sends tidal waves of pure ecstasy coursing through my body. The whole room goes silent. All I can hear is my own ragged breathing as I come down from my climax. Oh God. "Well that's that," Ms. Turring says. "I guess SOMEONE is getting expelled," Mr. Jeffries says. The lights turn back on and several technicians shuffle out the door, propping it open. Dr. Manyard peruses the various dials on the monitor machine, scratching her head in thought. Eventually giving up, she walks out with Ms. Turring and Mr. Jeffries. The nurse unfastens me from the table. It takes me a few minutes to regain my composure enough to ease myself back on my feet. I feel awful. All of that for nothing. I've disqualified myself from the study, and am getting kicked out of school anyways. My life is over. There's only one option left. I walk out the room into the hallway. I'm still naked, but I don't care who sees me. As I step through the doorway I almost bump into someone. My heart jumps up into my throat. It's the redhead from the waiting room. She is wearing a visitor's badge on her jacket and sipping from a paper cup by the water cooler. We make eye contact. She looks disinterested in me and wanders off. I remember what I'm doing and continue onward. Dr. Manyard and the two school officials are conversing in an open examination area a few yards away. Their heads turn to face me as I approach them. "Was there something else, Katie?" the doctor asks. "I... I would like another chance," I stammer. Everyone pauses for a moment. "You already disqualified yourself," Ms. Turring says. "Please... give me another chance," I beg. "I'll do whatever you want!" "Well, she did try her best," Dr. Manyard says sympathetically. "It wouldn't hurt to salvage the data we can and give it another go next week." "I won't let you down, I swear!" I say eagerly. "I don't think its a good idea," Mr. Jeffries says. "We can give her one more chance and see how it works," the doctor says. "Would you like to continue the testing?" I nod excitedly. "Okay," she says. "Nurse! Measure her!" The nurse approaches with some measuring tape. "Hold still," she commands me. I stand up straight as she wraps the tape around my throat. Next she grabs my wrist and measures it as well. She scurries off for a few minutes before returning with two white cardboard boxes. "Over the next week before our next appointment you are going to continue your day-to-day life as you normally would," the doctor explains. "During that time you will wear these sensors." She opens the boxes. The first box contains a steel bracelet. The doctor locks it around my wrist, ensuring it fits securely. The second box contains a small steel collar. She snaps it around my throat. "These will be gathering data 24 hours a day, storing everything they collect in their memory chips, which we will collect at the beginning of our next session." I nod. "Do not attempt to remove them or damage them, or you'll be disqualified from the program. But they're water-proof, so you can still shower and swim." A Cheater's Regret "Yes," I respond. "Also, it is very important you do not have sex or masturbate," she warns me. "If you experience an orgasm at any time, we'll know about it when you return and you'll be disqualified." Its a lot to take in. But I guess I can handle it. I'm allowed to return to the first examination room and dress. No one pays attention to me as I walk out of the clinic. Outside there's some guy in a Santa Claus hat ringing a bell for donations, looking bored out of his mind. He smiles as I walk past. Good thing he has no idea what I just did. I find my car in the parking lot. I brush wipe off the collecting snow on the windshield and sit down in the driver's seat. I stop for a moment to catch my breath before driving away. I never could have imagined myself ever doing something like this before, let alone asking for more. This is going to be a long week.