Dr Windred sat across from Laura, and looked at the nude girl. “That looks much better, Laura,” she said, smiling. “All right, 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 behavioural 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 realised 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.
The pain was sudden and surprising. Laura howled and bucked in the chair. But Dr Windred was already pulling the syringe out, now empty.
There you go, Laura, she was saying. “You should start to feel a little tingle in your pussy soon. In future you’ll have this drug in pill form, so you can take a couple before leaving home and be in the right mood when you get here. But obviously tonight you couldn’t have known, so we’re just goosing you a little with this shot.”
Windred was right; Laura could feel her groin warming up. She was aware of her nipples hardening, and her twat becoming engorged. What was this stuff? Some kind of Viagra for women? Laura felt her cheeks beginning to redden with arousal. She tried to fight it. She was already naked in front of strange people; did she have to become aroused as well? No one had ever seen her naked and aroused before except for Erica. And now two people were seeing it at once, both of them attractive. The thought of Amy in particular made Laura’s cunt twitch happily, and she slammed her thighs together as tight as they would go to try and make it stop.
Amy stood behind Laura, and put a hand on Laura’s shoulder. Laura tingled at the touch.
Come with me now, and we’ll get you started.
Following Amy required another embarrassing trip into the hallway. Once again Laura dashed from room to room, and once again as far as she could tell no one saw her.
The next room was dominated by a large and unusual chair in the middle of the room. It was raised up from the ground on a short pole, so that a person sitting in it would be considerably higher than they would in a normal chair. It was mainly made of moulded plastic, but there were soft cushions in along the backrest and on parts of the seat. A holes were cut out of the bottom seat, and Laura realised uncomfortably that it was in the right position to allow access to the user’s anus. The front of the seat stoppped shorter than that of a normal seat, providing access to the groin, and two separate leg-rests extended away from the chair, that could clearly be swivelled and separated, to spread the sitter’s legs. Each of the leg rests terminated in a cuff, obviously intended to restrain the legs. Similar cuffs featured on each of the arm rests.
Across from the chair, and facing it, one wall was dominated by what appeared to be a cinema-style projection screen.
Take a seat, Laura, said Amy. Unhappily, Laura climbed into the chair. It felt odd to be sitting and at the same time have her anus exposed. It reminded her of sitting on a toilet seat, except more comfortable, and – due to the armrests and backrest – somehow more intimate.
As she had feared, once Laura was seated, Amy buckled Laura’s wrists and ankles into the cuffs, securing Laura in the seat. She also reached down towards Laura’s lap, and buckled a hitherto-unnoticed seatbelt-like strap across Laura’s waist, with the result that Laura’s ass and groin were trapped securely against the seat. Laura could feel herself getting worried, tensing up involuntarily. She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to go home and kiss Erica, and pretend none of this was happening.
But that choice wasn’t available, even if Laura wasn’t now strapped in. The image of the knife hovered in Laura’s mind. She had to continue on.
Laura’s fears only intensified when Amy walked to a drawer at the side of the room and pulled out two plastic devices. Laura wasn’t an innocent; they were clearly dildos. She started to struggle a little. Amy just said, “Hush,” and knelt on the floor next to the chair. Laura couldn’t see what she was doing down there because of the position she was trapped in, so the next thing she knew was the feeling of a finger at her anuse, smearing something wet and sticky around her asshole.
What are you doing? Laura asked, louder than she had intended. She could feel the sphincter of her anus tightening as tight as it would go, trying to protect itself against the finger.
Hush, said Amy again. “Don’t worry, it’s just a little bump, it won’t even penetrate.” And with that, she pushed the smaller of the two dildos through the hole in the chair and towards Laura’s ass, before locking it into place through some process that Laura couldn’t see, but which made an audible “click”.
Amy was right; the dildo didn’t penetrate Laura’s ass, for which she was grateful. She’d never enjoyed anal penetration. The device was really only a little bump. It pressed noticeably against the entrance to her ass, and when Laura relaxed against the chair it was just long enough to probe the anal sphincter and force it open a little. It was uncomfortable and strange, but not painful.
The other dildo was a different matter. Amy stood up, and moved to stand in front of Laura. She swung the two leg restraints outwards, spreading Laura’s legs wide open, and she stood betwen Laura’s feet holding the other, larger dildo.
She looked down at Laura’s cunt. “I see you don’t need any lubricant here.” She was right. Much to Laura’s humiliation, her pussy was puffy and wet and pouting. When Amy leaned down and pushed the dildo into Laura’s cunt, it slid right in on the first try. Laura was unable to stop herself making a little slutty moan as it slipped inside her. She heard another “click” as Amy secured the dildo to the chair, locking it in place. Laura was now able to buck her hips a little, back and forth against the dildo, if she tried, but she couldn’t move so as to get it entirely out of her. The dildo had a secondary phlange near its based that lined up vertically with Laura’s pussy slit; the tip of it was textured with little bumps and rested against Laura’s clitoris. It appeared to be spring loaded; even when Laura backed off from the dildo as far as she could go, the flange followed, maintaining pressure against her clit.
There was another “click” as Amy flipped a switch, and suddenly the dildo in Laura’s pussy began to vibrate.
Laura could barely even pay attention to what Amy was doing after that. The drugs she had been given were powerful, and the stimulation in her cunt felt so good. But she was dimly aware of Amy pasting some electrodes onto Laura’s forehead, her breasts, and her groin, and attaching them to some kind of computer or terminal. A part of Laura was telling her that she needed to regain control, to keep her dignity, but that little voice was lost in the tide of pleasure coming from her twat. After a few minutes, Laura was making uncontrollable whore-sounds; a few minutes later she was bucking her hips frantically against the dildo. There was something about this that was exciting her vagina in a way that even sex with Erica didn’t. Was it the exposure? The humiliation? She told herself it must be the drugs, and then a few minutes later she orgasmed.
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