I’m getting tired of fucking my hand though. That’s one of the problems with living with the neighborhood mattress monkey – if she’s not available it’s you and your hand. I can’t go to someone like Randy and say “hey, Suzi’s out of town, how about you have Stephanie come by and give me a blowjob?” It just doesn’t work like that. Well, at least I’m getting good product from Karl. I guess it’s the next best thing to being there.
I thought about going out and finding a hooker but it’s expensive and you never know what you’re going to get. John’s got a few connections but I’m a little embarrassed to ask him. So, guess I’ll just get out the hand lotion and get through the next few days.
When the microwave dinged that the food was cooled down enough to eat, I grabbed a Bud and headed to the computer. I fired up the realtime feed. Suzi wasn’t tied to the post and there were only a few people and mutts strolling casually around the Commons. I started flipping through the cameras looking for my wife.
I finally found her on one of the indoor feeds. This was fucking freaky.
The place looked like a classroom, there were rows of benches and an old fashioned black chalkboard on one wall and charts and stacks of books in the corner. A classroom of some mad scientist’s work room.
My wife was laying on her back on a big wooden table, her arms flat just above her head, palms on top of each other facing up. Two big guys has her elbows pinned to the table. Two more were holding her knees up and open, her feet just dangling, hanging against the back of her thighs. There was a crowd of about a dozen standing in a semi-circle around the end of the table, holding notebooks and pencils and leaning forward to get a better view. The center of attention was a man wearing a long black robe and a small cap. His hands were holding some kind of device between my wife’s legs and he was motioning for them to lean closer.
I couldn’t get the sound feed and had to guess what was going on. Fuck. What kind of assholes set up their gear? What kind of movie did they think they were going to get without sound?
The man in the robe twisted something on the device and everyone’s eyes widened. My wife’s hips moved, readjusting her to some new intrusion. I saw that her head was turned, cheek pressed flat against the table, humiliated and ashamed to be so open in front of this small, intimate crowd.
I was able to switch to an overhead camera angle and saw what they were doing. He had some kind of primitive speculum – it looked like wood and brass – and my wife’s pussy was a gaping hole, I guessed about two inches in diameter. The man used what looked like a marble pestle and started pressing against her clit. The man pointed with a short stick at her cunt lips which swelled up slightly, then at the soft skin inside which was turning a brighter red. As she got more aroused, she started moving her hips, her head moving side to side now in total humiliation until finally she raised her hips high off the table as she came. The students clapped and laughed, the man in the robe set the pestle down and patted my wife’s pussy gently. She lay there, her belly shaking as she sobbed, her body relaxing against the table again.
What the fuck were those guys thinking, doing this with no sound? I looked at the screen again and saw a volume slider, clicked it a few times but nothing happened. “Fuck!” I said. I had the damn thing on Mute.
“…of you is going to get a chance to perform this experiment. Now remember, you are looking for arousal responses at various levels of vaginal distention as quantified by…” I clicked Mute back on. I didn’t need to hear the details but I got the picture. My wife was being used as a medical specimen, a classroom tool to teach these guys about female anatomy. The geek was certainly creative. What a brilliant piece of depravity – what better way to humiliate her than to treat her like a piece of laboratory equipment, a chunk of meat to be probed to see how it reacts?
The first student put on a pair of rubber gloves and pushed his fingers into my wife’s gaping cunthole. He pulled them out and rubbed them against his thumb, then sniffed them. He made a face and everyone laughed. “Take a swab,” the instructor said. He picked up a six-inch long cotton swab and poked it slowly into her, his hand shaking. He kept going and she jerked and gave a tiny scream. “Not the cervix, boy, just the walls,” the instructor scolded. “Get a clean one and do it again.” Suzi started moaning now, “no, please…” but the instructor gave her a stern look and she pressed her lips shut.
When the student finished his swabbing, he stepped back and peeled off the gloves. The next one stepped forward and the instructor said, “open her wider. Two clicks.” I sat up and leaned forward. I had no idea how much exactly two clicks meant but I knew that whatever it was, if each of the thirteen students got two clicks, they’d split her open before they were through. I couldn’t watch that. I clicked the monitor to black and went into the other room to see what was on television.
When I came back at the commercial break, a student was clumsily rubbing the pestle against my wife’s cunt while she flailed on the table, head banging side to side, hips moving wildly. I zoomed in on her cunt. She was opened around 10 cm, a little less than 4 inches. I saw that one of the other students had a syringe and was shooting some kind of liquid up into her. I hoped it was just water but couldn’t tell, nobody was saying anything.
The instructor turned around and quickly grabbed the student’s wrist. “I told you, none of that! That’s for a different experiment!” He pressed his hand against my wife’s forehead, pulled down her lower eyelid with his other. He leaned close and looked into her face. “Well, no harm done. Not this time anyway.” She just stared at him as he walked to the board and crossed off another name. There were four names left. He wrote “9.8” next to the first, then “10.2” “10.6” and finally “11.0”. That would be 4.3 inches. She can take it. I have no doubt about it.
I looked at the clock. Seven. Still plenty of time for a run down to the bar and a few drinks with Ed and Joey. I’m curious whether or not they’re watching the live feed. I looked back at the monitor. One of the students was wiping the sweat off my wife’s body with a square of cotton. I thought he was being nice until I saw what he did next. He pressed down on her chin with his finger. When she opened her mouth, I saw it was already stuffed with the same type of pad. He pushed that one in and closed her mouth again. I just shook my head. Fucking perverts.
…end of chapter 5…
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