“He.” She thought about that as she waited. She had assumed her blackmailer was a male. People who abused women were so often men, right? But she supposed it could be a woman. As she thought it, she felt a little glow of warmth between her legs, and blushed. What was that about? Was she getting wet at the thought of being blackmailed and humiliated by a woman? She squeezed her thighs together tightly and tried to think about something else. And she decided she’d call her abuser “he” in future, to stop that thought occurring again.
Laura didn’t have to wait long. It had been barely ten minutes when a woman in a lab coat emerged from a doorway and strode into the waiting room, accompanied by two teenagers, also in lab coats.
“Hi, Laura,” said the lead woman, extending her hand. “I’m Dr Tara Windred. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Laura shook the hand. Dr Windred appeared to be in her late 30s. She was massively buxom – Laura estimated she must be at least an E cup – but nevertheless looked both intelligent and professional. She had black hair, pulled back in a bun, and elegant square-frame glasses. Her lab coat was open at the front, revealing a purple turtleneck sweater that accentuated her bosom by clinging and straining across its curves.
Dr Windred beamed at Laura. “These are my assistants, Amy and Royce. They’re here on work experience, but they know the ropes.”
Amy was a pretty, willowy girl with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and an enticing smile, exactly the sort of girl that Laura found most attractive. Laura felt herself blushing as she said hello to Amy.
On the other hand, Royce was tall and fit with thick brown hair and well-trimmed but adolescent beard. He didn’t smile at Laura, and didn’t say anything, only nodding briefly to acknowledge her presence.
“Dr Windred,” said Laura, after she’d greeted the two assistants, “I have to say, I’m not actually sure what I’m supposed to be helping you with here.” She tensed up inside. She still somehow felt that this was going to turn out to be a brothel or a strip club, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
“Research,” replied Dr Windred. “Were you not told? You’ll be a participant in a study we’re conducting. It’s very generous of you to have volunteered; from what I hear, you’re exactly what we’re looking for.” She smiled. “Look, how about you go through to the prep room with Amy, and get ready, and then come to me in my office and I’ll tell you what it’s all about.”
Laura was far from reassured, but Amy was already leading Laura to the door at the back of the reception, and Laura didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of the cute blonde girl, so she allowed herself to be led away. She saw Dr Windred and Royce heading for another door, and then she was out of reception and in a hallway.
The hallway further reinforced Laura’s earlier impression of a doctor’s surgery. It was clean, sterile and functional, without appearing cold or frightening in any way. It was painted in warm colors, with several doors leading off it. Amy took her to one such door, and together they entered, revealing what appeared to be a consultation room, with a bed, a privacy screen, chairs, a desk, and a sink.
“Okay,” said Amy. “We’ll need to get you prepped. Could you take off your clothes, please?”
Laura felt her heart sink. “My clothes?” she asked. Amy hadn’t even closed the door to the room.
“Those clothes aren’t suitable for the work tonight. You’ll need to take them off.” Amy followed Laura’s gaze to the open door and rolled her eyes. “I’ll close this, if it helps,” she said, and closed the door.
Laura fidgeted awkwardly. She didn’t know these people, and she didn’t know what was going to happen tonight. Dr Windred had seemed nice, and this place seemed completely legitimate. On the other hand, why did she need to change? She didn’t want to take off her clothes, especially in front of a pretty girl like Amy. (Well, actually, she absolutely DID want to take off her clothes in front of a pretty girl like Amy, but only if Amy was going to do it too. And besides, she was supposed to be faithful to Erica.)
As she thought about, she began to think of many reasons why she might need to change. They might need to measure her fitness, and she’d need to change into exercise clothes. Or they might be conducting a medical examination. Or they might be worried about getting a chemical or something onto Laura’s nice clothes. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed a completely reasonable request, if she was going to be taking part in research, to change out of her clothes.
“Okay,” she said. “Just a minute.” She shuffled behind the large privacy screen in the corner of the room and began to undress. She removed her high heels, and her jacket and shirt, and her skirt, and then paused.
“Underwear too?” she called out. “Yes,” replied Amy. Blushing, Laura pulled her panties down her legs, and then unhooked and removed her bra. She was completely naked, in a strange place. She felt vulnerable and embarrassed.
She felt even more embarrassed when, without warning, Amy walked around the side of the screen and began collecting Laura’s discarded clothes.
“Um…” said Laura. But Amy clearly wasn’t worried about seeing a naked girl. She practically ignored Laura’s nude body, focusing instead on gathering up all of Laura’s outfit and butting it into a medical-looking plastic bag.
“Okay,” she said when she was done. “Now let’s go see Dr Windred.”
What did she mean? She was going to take Laura to Dr Windred naked? She couldn’t do that!
“Don’t I get some other clothes?” she asked. “Or a medical gown?”
“No, you won’t need that,” said Amy. She opened the door of the room and waited near it. “Come on. After you.”
It was awkward. What was Laura supposed to do? Amy had her clothes, and there was nothing else to cover herself with. She realized now that her phone, wallet and car keys were in the pocket of her jacket. No one knew where she was, and she couldn’t contact anyone. Nothing was going to happen if she just refused to move. She could kick up a fuss, but what if they wouldn’t let her do the research? Her blackmailer would know, surely, and then he’d use that knife on Laura. Or on Erica.
It wasn’t too bad, surely. Amy wasn’t exactly raping Laura with her eyes. And it was pleasantly warm in the Clinic, even nude. Still blushing, Laura made her decision, and quickly walked past Laura into the corridor, unsuccessfully trying to cover her tits, her pussy and her ass with her hands all at the same time.
Dr Windred’s office turned out to be only a couple of doors down. Laura scooted in as soon as Amy opened the door and took a seat in a lush leather chair. The leather immediately stuck to her bare skin in an unpleasant way. A few moments later, the door opened again, and Dr Windred entered. Laura looked around and was grateful to see that Royce was nowhere to be seen.
Dr Windred sat across from Laura and looked at the nude girl. “That looks much better, Laura,” she said, smiling. “Alright, let me tell you what you’ve volunteered for.”
She pulled a file out of her desk, looked at it briefly, and then looked back at Laura. “Here at the Mayim Clinic, we’re a private institute funded by a range of patrons to perform research into a range of medical, psychological, sociological and psychiatric areas. The study you’re signed up for is assigned the name Valkyrie. It’s funded by a coalition of conservative and religious groups, and its main aim is to develop techniques to cure lesbianism and rehabilitate lesbians into pro-social sexual and behavioral patterns.”
Laura blanched. The idea was abhorrent. Lesbianism couldn’t be cured; it was the way she was born. And she didn’t want to be cured, even if it was possible. She felt herself tensing up in the chair and realized that at least part of her was preparing to flee the office.
Dr Windred laughed. “Oh, don’t get so worried. No one’s ever had success with this, and we’re not expecting to have any either. But we’re funded, so we do the research. I know you’re a lesbian – that’s why you’re suitable for the program – and I know you’re a strong-willed woman who’ll fight for your sexuality. Don’t stress about it. Just do the tests, go through the motions, and have a good laugh at the stupid people wasting their money on trying to cure you.”
Laura relaxed a little. It was true – she’d never heard of anyone “curing” lesbianism, and certainly not in someone who didn’t want to be cured.
“You’re going to come here every weeknight, for about two to three hours, at least at first,” Windred continued. “Down the track it’ll be less often, maybe as little as once a week. You’ll be paid weekly for your participation – the money will go into your sponsor’s nominated account, and it’s between you and your sponsor how that’s distributed.”
Sponsor, noted Laura. She assumed that was her blackmailer.
“This week we’re just going to do tests on you and find out your baseline responses to stimuli,” said Windred. “Starting next week, you’ll have specific tasks to do, both at the Clinic and at home. Now, I understand that you’re already in a stable sexual relationship with a woman?”
Laura nodded.
“Well, we recommend you don’t tell her about the testing, at least at first. Women can get upset if they think their lesbian partner is trying to cure her lesbianism, and the kind of stress resulting from that can upset our study. Just tell her you’re working here at the Clinic, or whatever else suits you.”
I’m already way ahead on that, Laura thought wryly.
“All right, now, we’re going to start with this.” Dr Windred stood up and pulled something out of a desk drawer. It was a syringe. Laura felt herself tensing up again.
Dr Windred approached her. “We’re going to be measuring your sexual responses, so this is just a little stimulant to arouse you.” She reached down and cupped Laura’s left breast. Laura didn’t feel okay about this at all, but the recent mention of her “sponsor” had reminded her of the consequences of not going along with this research. And then, before Laura could react further, Dr Windred pushed the syringe into Laura’s tit.
Leave a Reply