Dr. Gregory's Seduction

by Serena Jones

  Dr. Gregory’s Seduction

  By Serena Jones

  Copyright 2017 by 1217 Partners Publishing

  Dr. Ivan Gregory left his workshop and walked down the hall to the laboratory, handling his new device as he went. It was almost a work of art, he thought, although beauty was not of importance. Functionality was. Still, it was smooth and ridged and curved in a way that felt pleasing in his hands. He hoped it would feel the same inside Miss Fortescue’s womanhood.

  He had spent the last three days exploring the discovery made in his office—that it was possible to bring Miss Elspeth Fortescue to climax by stimulating a particular location on her interior vaginal walls, even without giving any attention to her clitoris. Thus far, he had proved such a climax could be duplicated—the first test of any new scientific discovery—and it was therefore not a fluke or aberration caused by the circumstances of its occurrence.

  Gregory was uncomfortable with the circumstances of the discovery, if the truth be told. He had given in to a rare moment of unprofessional behavior with his female assistant. It could not happen again—would not happen, he was determined. Due to the nature of the experiments he conducted, attachments between subjects was a risk best avoided by maintaining a clinical atmosphere at all times.

  When he entered the laboratory, Gregory was surprised to see Mr. Elliot Brown bound to the testing area, as he was not scheduled for any experiments today—much to the young man’s chagrin. The new assistant was an eager subject and sorely disappointed when it was not his orgasms that were being studied. At first, Gregory assumed that Mr. Brown had deceived Miss Fortescue into thinking he was undergoing a trial simply for his own pleasure, but then Mr. Brown caught sight of him and cried, “See here, Dr. Gregory—look what she’s done! Come and release me at once!”

  From the other side of the laboratory, Miss Fortescue called out, “Not until he’s finished copying his lines.”

  Now Gregory saw that Mr. Brown had one hand bound to the upright stage of the testing area, while the other was bound to a tray extended in front of him. There was a pen in this hand, and he’d been awkwardly writing on a sheet of paper. Gregory whisked the paper away to see what was on it.

  I shall not try to kiss Miss Fortescue.

  He had written this over a dozen times so far, in penmanship that was awkward and cramped, due to the way she’d secured his hand.

  Gregory sighed. “I have spoken to you about this, Mr. Brown.”

  “It was only in jest,” the young man said. “She didn’t have to lock me up.”

  “I am unapologetic,” Miss Fortescue replied without raising her eyes from the book she was reading.

  Gregory unlocked the restraints, and the young man stepped down from his perch, rubbing his wrists. “I don’t see why she minds a little peck on the lips,” he said. “I’ve had my fingers inside her, for Heaven’s sake.” He lowered his voice to a whisper for that last statement as if it were a secret, even though Miss Fortescue knew very well whose fingers had been inside her.

  There. This was exactly what Gregory had feared. The too-intimate nature of their testing procedures had caused friction between his assistants. Although Gregory had, finally, disabused Mr. Brown of the notion that he was betrothed to Miss Fortescue because they had performed acts of a sexual nature, the young man simply couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that his repeated attempts at affection toward her were unwanted. Thus the urgent need for the device Gregory had constructed.

  “There won’t be any need for you to put your fingers inside her after today, I hope,” Gregory said. “I have tried to design a device which will produce the desired result through mechanical means.” He held up his creation.

  Made of soft, chamois leather, it was the size and shape of a man’s penis, modeled after Gregory’s own, in fact, except that he had crafted an arc into the design, so that the penile device curved in a gentle swoop. There were also ridges along its concave curvature. Gregory believed the curve and the bumps would stimulate the region of Miss Fontescue’s interior walls that comprised this mysterious “Spot” of hers. Gregory had taken to calling it the C-Spot because it produced a climax, although Miss Fortescue said that he should call it the G-Spot after Gregory, since he had discovered it.

  Miss Fortescue eyed the leather penis with an expression of resignation.

  “The surface is soft and yielding,” Gregory said to her. “And it is filled with a warm gel.”

  On that day in his office, she had complained to him that—although her body had been used for his research dozens of times—she had never felt anything but cold, hard glass or steel between her legs. This had touched his heart enough that he had, that one time, given in to temptation and used his fingers to pleasure her, while she did the same for him. It had not occurred during the implementation of an experiment, but as an act of pure lust. He regretted it now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t address her complaint.

  “Thank you, Dr. Gregory,” Miss Fortescue said dutifully, closing the anatomy book she’d been reading. She approached the testing area, her boots clicking on the floor. “Do you wish to begin now?”

  “If you don’t mind.” Gregory did not avert his eyes from her but regarded her impassively as she came toward him. It was an act. Although he had become accustomed to her working attire, it never failed to affect him.

  Their experiments required access to her breasts and her womanhood. Having tired of the effort required to unbutton her blouse and unlace her corset—not to mention the necessary fumbling with long skirts and ruffled petticoats—Miss Fortescue had designed a garment that made reaching her various parts more convenient. Her corset kept her waist restricted, but stopped just under her breasts. Her blouse had no front to it, only a high collar, long sleeves, and a back. She’d also constructed a modified skirt that was long with a bustle in the back, but short in the front.

  The result was that her breasts were bare, her legs were visible—especially the silky white of her thighs above those tall boots—and Gregory was in a state of constant arousal whenever he viewed her. The same was true of Mr. Brown, as evidenced by the large bulge in his trousers. Gregory really needed to take the time to make an erection preventative for Mr. Brown to wear in the lab, as Gregory did. His own penis was confined within a metal chamber that was locked into place on his pelvis. No matter how aroused he felt, he could not grow hard, nor could he ejaculate. Gregory called his device the Reminder because it was supposed to keep his mind on science and off his burning desire to cup Miss Fortescue’s round, heavy breasts in his hands.

  Elspeth Fortescue stepped onto the platform and turned around, placing her back against the upright support. She was well aware of the effect her attire had on the two men and took a certain measure of satisfaction from it. She was also aware that Dr. Gregory wore a device to prevent his erection, but concluded that his need to wear this preventative daily could be attributed to the fact that he was not as unaffected by her as he pretended to be.

  The scientist had been as kind and polite as ever since their interlude in his office, but he was definitely more aloof. He had touched her again only once, placing his fingers inside her womanhood to demonstrate to Mr. Brown how to stimulate her vaginally. Then he had turned the task over to his young assistant.

  Mr. Brown, for his part, had quickly mastered the technique and given Elspeth several very pleasurable orgasms. He always took on the task eagerly, and today was no exception. He bound her hands where she had restrained his just half an hour ago. The purpose of this was to get them out of the way, but Elspeth found the sensation of being spread open and on display arousing. A shameful thing, perhaps, but nevertheless, a jolt of delight ran through her.

  “Stage One,
” Mr. Brown said cheerfully, fetching the Rod.

  No one expected that Elspeth should have to endure that leather penis inserted into her womanhood unless she was already aroused enough to find its entry pleasurable. Therefore, Mr. Brown took pains to gently awaken her body by means of the metal Rod and its sphere-shaped vibrating head. The first time he’d used it on her, he’d shoved it between her legs like a cattle prod, causing her to screech and yank her nether region away from him. He knew better now.

  Lifting the short skirt out of the way, he brushed the Rod’s vibrating head against her—lightly, lightly—just enough for her to feel its buzzing. She closed her eyes and held her breath, letting the sensation swell within her, warming the area between her legs. A tingling ran straight up through her abdomen and spread over the expanse of her breasts. Opening her eyes, she looked at Dr. Gregory.

  He immediately dropped his eyes to his clipboard and made a note. She didn’t know why he tried to hide the fact that he was watching her when it was his job to do so and record her progress through arousal and all the way to climax. Elspeth had seen his notes.

  Areola fully rigid with tips of nipples erect about 0.5 inch in height. Flushed in the neck and upper chest region. Lips parted. Panting.

  Oh, he watched her very closely indeed, although ever since their encounter in the office, he tried to do it surreptitiously. Elspeth closed her eyes again so that he could look all he wanted. She liked knowing that he was watching her. What notes was he making right now?

  When she felt warm fluid seep from between the lips of her womanhood, she said, “Ready for Stage Two, Mr. Brown.”

  “Very well, Miss Fortescue.” Mr. Brown laid the Rod aside and picked up the leather penis.

  Reaching under her skirt, he used the fingers of his free hand to gently separate her labia. Elspeth noted he was getting better at this. The first time Mr. Brown had touched her womanhood, he’d shuddered all over and ejaculated into his trousers. Now, at least, he could control himself long enough to accomplish the task at hand, although she had no doubt that his member was as hard as it could possibly be. He positioned the tip of the leather penis between her moist labia and began to slowly work it in. “Am I hurting you?” he asked politely. “This seems rather large to, er, go in.”

  “You are not hurting me, and it is not too large,” she assured him. The glass penis on the Infernal Machine that had taken her maidenhood had been larger.

  He wiggled the device, and Elspeth felt it ease into her about an inch or so. As promised, it was soft and warm—but not a living kind of softness or a human kind of warmth. Still, it was pleasurable, and she sighed as Mr. Brown continued to push the leather penis into her depths.

  “The curved part should be directed to the front of her interior wall,” Dr. Gregory instructed his assistant, “to better press against the Spot.”

  “I understood that, sir,” Mr. Brown replied. Indeed, he had angled it correctly. Elspeth could feel the pressure of its knobby head and various ridges the deeper it went into her.

  Mr. Brown was not an unintelligent man, although extremely naïve in some matters, and he was learning fast. Elspeth could not bring herself to dislike him despite the attempted kisses and the one time she caught him rubbing himself against her skirts while using his fingers to probe her Spot. He reminded her of a large, affable puppy that was dutifully working toward obedience and only sometimes chewed the furniture and piddled on the rugs.

  Keeping her eyes firmly closed, Elspeth tried to forget about Mr. Elliot Brown and concentrate instead on the feel of the warm object filling her—deep enough to brush against the entrance to her womb—easing in and out, stroking her interior flesh. Her heartbeat quickened as her level of arousal climbed. Her mind wandered away from where she was, a strategy that, more and more, she believed was an essential part of getting to climax.

  She conjured the memory of those precious moments in Dr. Gregory’s office when she stood close enough to him that she felt wrapped in the heat of his body, their hearts thumping in time.

  Her hand embracing his member.

  Her fingers exploring the length of him.

  His hand pressed against the intersection of her legs.

  His fingers filling her womanhood.

  She remembered his rigidity, his girth, the way the head of his manhood flared as she stroked him, and the hot gush of his climax against her skirt.

  Inside, the sensation of pleasure grew more intense. “There, Mr. Brown,” she whispered, letting him know that he was now working the leather penis against her Spot.

  “I can tell,” he replied softly, his own breathing ragged.

  She knew without looking that Mr. Brown’s member would be battering against his trousers, looking for a way out. At least he refrained from rubbing it against her this time.

  Elspeth pressed her head against the upright support behind her. Her clitoris throbbed, begging to be stroked, but Mr. Brown was under instructions to avoid it as much as possible, and so the need grew from her interior, radiating across her pelvis like spilled warm tea. The first spasm wrenched an outcry from her, but after that, she pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to call out his name as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

  The climaxes given to her this way were never as intense as they’d been that very first time, but they always left her flushed and dizzy.

  Gregory regarded Miss Fontescue. Her disorientation at the end of the trial did not escape his notice, and although he wanted to go to her and help her down from her perch, he forced himself to stand where he was. Rooted to the spot. A tree.

  After Mr. Brown had handed Miss Fortescue down to the floor, Gregory asked, “Can you describe the orgasm for me?”

  “Yes, of course.” Miss Fortescue’s voice was breathy, but her description was as precise as ever. “Slow to build and slow to subside. Not as intense or as centralized as an orgasm through clitoral stimulation. More diffuse, I’d say.” Then she gasped and bent a little, one hand pressed against her stomach. Mr. Brown held her elbow to steady her. “And there are subsequent small climaxes,” she added when she was able to speak again.

  Gregory noted this on his clipboard, trying to ignore the way his manhood ached and throbbed within the confines of its metal prison. He would have to remove the Reminder tonight and give himself some relief. There were photo cards inside the desk in his apartment—pornographic photo cards—by which he had stimulated himself back when he worked alone and his experiments were only on himself. He would use those tonight. He would not use his notes on Miss Fortescue’s arousal and climax the way he had done last evening. That had been inappropriate, and he felt ashamed that he had had conjured her image to bring himself to orgasm. It had been a violation of her trust, even if she didn’t know about it.

  Returning his mind to the present, Gregory cleared his throat. “I think we have had enough trials to prove that Miss Fortescue can reach climax through vaginal stimulation alone, as long as there is sufficient excitation of the area we are calling the C-Spot.”

  “G-Spot,” Miss Fortescue said softly, disagreeing over the name.

  “Yes,” agreed Mr. Brown. “But would it work on other women? How do we know it’s not just a peculiarity of Miss Fortescue?”

  “Peculiarity?” exclaimed Miss Fortescue, turning offended blue eyes on the young man.

  “Mr. Brown is correct,” Gregory said. “This may be a quality unique in you and not something that transfers to other females.” Miss Fortescue seemed mollified by the use of the word unique instead of peculiarity, but Gregory gave a great sigh. “I shall have to hire another female employee. Unfortunately, it took me months to find Miss Fortescue, and I suspect it will take just as long to acquire another woman who is open-minded and receptive to this experimentation.”

  Mr. Brown scratched his head. “I think there’s another option, Dr. Gregory. If all you want is a woman who won’t faint or run away screaming when you explain what you want her to do … Well, y
ou see, I have a chum who knows a … that is to say, he visits a … when he feels the need to … I want you to know that I have never … but he …”

  “Mr. Brown,” Gregory interrupted, “If you have something to say, please state it directly.”

  Miss Fortescue eyed her fellow assistant with mild amusement. “He is trying to say that his friend knows a prostitute.”

  Mr. Brown gasped. “Miss Fortescue!”

  “I know they exist, Mr. Brown,” she said drily.

  Gregory frowned. “Are you suggesting I bring a prostitute into my laboratory?”

  “It is not a bad idea,” said Elspeth, who didn’t care for the thought of Dr. Gregory hiring another female assistant. What if she were smarter and prettier than Elspeth? What if Dr. Gregory fell in love with her? “A woman who is paid to fornicate should have no moral objection to our experiment, no personal sense of modesty to get in the way, and it is likely that what we require is all in a day’s work for her. We either take Mr. Brown’s suggestion, or put this study on hold for a few weeks.”

  “More likely months,” Gregory said glumly. “Very well, Mr. Brown. Please ask your friend to introduce us to his … acquaintance … at his earliest convenience.”

  Mr. Brown nodded, then squirmed, and said in a rather blatant whine, “Dr. Gregory, may I make use of the cylinder?” The young man cast his eyes down at his crotch, then looked up at his employer and raised his eyebrows, pleadingly.

  Gregory closed his eyes briefly. He really needed to build a Reminder for young Mr. Brown to contain these urges. “Very well. I suppose you know the procedure by now.”

  The young man nodded eagerly. “After my Critical Period, I measure the volume of the expelled gel to determine the size of Ar—that is, my erection. Then I use the centrifuge to separate the gel from my pearly joy and re-measure accordingly.” He ran off to prepare the cylinder with which he pleasured himself when he could no longer endure his arousal.