by J Beresford
The fingers pulled out fast.
“NOOOOOOO… FUCK YOU, YOU BASTARD… OH GOD, I CAN’T….”
Her screams of desperation were replaced with a yelp of shock as an ice cube was pressed onto her sensitive clitoris.
“IT’S TOO MUCH… STOP!!” She pulled on the restraints fiercely as the ice cube slid up and down her sex, beginning to melt very fast due to the heat of her aching sex.
“JUST FUCK MY LITTLE PUSSY!” the girl screamed, yet her torture did not end.
Once the ice melted, her pussy was explored again; fingers curled up inside her, her engorged G-spot was rubbed relentlessly while her tormented clit was sucked on, the contrast of the cold ice to the warm tongue made it feel like it was alive and on fire, a sensation that felt almost disconnected from the rest of her body.
“Please, I’m going to die, I’m going to die… PLEASE STOP!” her pleas for mercy went unheard, with no answer and only the wet slapping sounds of her pussy being explored audible to her.
Over and over they explored her this way, taking turns denying her, sucking her clitoris, finger fucking her and using ice on her most sensitive spots to get the squeals they so desired from her. If she didn’t want to orgasm more than anything in the world, she’d have prayed to be released, but as it were, she was helpless but to endure the torture, her teased nipples and clitoris harder and more sensitive than ever imaginable.
Andrea’s delicate sex was ravaged even more mercilessly once the toys were introduced to her.
Speechless, all she could do was to scream as she was vibrated remorselessly to the edge more and more; small bullet vibrators were inserted into her pussy, feeling the vibrations shudder deep inside, before another powerful egg vibrator was pressed to her clit. Even as they stopped her on the verge once again, the feeling of having the bullets pulled quickly from her sex was indescribable.
With her body covered in sweat, thighs shuddering, sex swollen and breathing heavily, Andrea was finally spoken to.
“It seems that you can’t be pushed any further, I guess we are done with you,” the female voice was cold and clinical.
“Please let me come… Fuck me…. Do anything to me,” Andrea begged.
Instantly she felt multiple tongues trailing over her lower body and breasts, across her thighs, her tummy, and exploring around her pussy. The burning desire started to overcome Andrea once more while the tongues darted over her tender petals.
“Oh yes… Mmmm…Yes… Don’t stop… It feels so fucking good.”
One mouth sucked on her clitoris intensely while the other tongue lapped away at her clenching pussy.
“Oh fuck. Oh fuck…. Oh… OH… I’M CLOSE!”
She had the terrible sensation that they would all withdraw their wondrous assault, but they continued to ravish her with their tongues, eating her out and sucking on every tender inch.
Under the blindfold, the writhing girl widened her eyes, knowing it was coming.
“OH MY GOD…. I’M COMING!!!” she screamed out, unable to stop it even if she wanted to. The mouths restlessly suckled and licked at her as Andrea erupted in orgasm, every inch of her body trembling, her toes curled and fingers clenched, shuddering as the explosion surged throughout her; an orgasm she thought she’d die from. Unending and unyielding, it seemed to last painfully long, more intense than any feeling in her life, wrestling with her very existence, washing through her mind and leaving no room for thought.
She did not seem to come down from the height of pleasure, as the tongues did not stop ravishing her now over-sensitive body; even after everything, all of the denial and need for sexual release, she had received the orgasm she needed, and her vulnerable body had had enough. Nothing she could do would stop them.
“Ok… Ok …I Came, Stop! I’m done,” she said breathlessly, as if they actually needed to be told she had come. However they kept on sucking even harder and licking faster.
“Stop… I’m… Oh God! I’m Goi…,” a second orgasm built just as quickly inside her, hitting her just as hard as the last. Crying out, transfixed in bliss as she pulled against the restraints… not being able to caress herself or soothe anywhere with her own touch seemed to make the orgasm even more intense with violent, raw pleasure.
“I… I… No…,” she could barely speak as fingers were thrust inside her, curling up and rubbing on her swollen G-spot while the sucking on her overstimulated clitoris did not cease. The finger fucking she received made her scream out and shiver as her juices leaked from that throbbing little red sex.
“Please… It’s too much, s-so sensitive!” Now Andrea needed them to stop as she was overwhelmed with pleasure. But still they finger fucked, sucked and licked her throughout her orgasms, relentlessly forcing her to come no matter how much she begged them to stop.
She was pulling at the restraints so hard she felt like her limbs would tear off, but still the abuse would not cease.
“FUCKING STOP… PLEASE, PLEASE STOP IT. MERCY… STOP!!! OH GOD OH GOD!” her orgasms were brutally intense, she saw stars as they forced orgasm after orgasm out of her, barely able to breathe through what was being forced upon her while she squealed and screamed. She thought she would pass out, but her body did not grant her such release. Instead, her pussy began to simply become so sensitive it was simply painful. Evidently her tormentors were able to read these signs, as they slowed down and began to cease their carnal attention on her.
Andrea felt like a cluster of nerve endings, her body so sensitive, she just wanted to curl up forever, but all she could do was lay back, motionless, breathing heavily. She did not utter a word or move, lost in her own mind, while she was uncuffed and tended to gently. It was morning, and still the lab was as active as when she first arrived so many hours ago.
After monitoring her carefully and keeping her stable and cared for, Andrea was clothed, washed and fed once her senses returned. Things were back to normal in the lab, as if nothing had happened, treating her once again like the test subject she believed she was going to be when she first entered. Dr Wand returned to join her, taking her by the hand and walking her towards the exit. Andrea simply followed without question, her legs still a little shaky, but now able to walk at least.
“Now Andrea, I hope you enjoyed our little test,” he started gently. Andrea blushed and could not bring herself to respond.
“We have all the information we need about the bra, so thank you,” he continued, opening the door and letting the morning sunlight shine through before continuing.
“However, you are welcome to come back to us if ever you wish to be involved in our research further.” He smiled at her, but she averted her gaze, her embarrassment returning.
“We have room for any other females who may wish to visit the lab. Perhaps you may be able to recommend us to anyone,” he finished, before handing over an envelope.
“Thank you,” Andrea said softly before quickly turning and leaving.
As she walked away, she felt like she’d need to sleep for a week to recover from what she’d been through; though she couldn’t help but think that deep down, part of her would not be able to forget the pleasure she had been put through.
She opened the envelope as she strolled slowly, and pulled out the contents — Tickets to the French Polynesia Islands… and a pair of panties with a tag on it displaying ‘prototype’.
The End
Two Participants
The soothing hum of an air conditioner drifts through the office, filling the void of the girl’s hesitation at the question. “No, not for over two years,” she finally responds.
The interviewer makes a note. “Any encounters within this period?”
“…Yeah,” follows the pause.
“If you care to say so, roughly, how recently was this?”
A rustling of paperwork fills the moment’s silence as the young woman averts her gaze.
“It was - um, about …uh, 4 months ago.”
“Lastly, have you been looking for any fu
rther partners recently?” the interviewer asks softly, making sure not to offend or embarrass the gentle looking girl before him.
Lifting her deep blue eyes to his, she firmly states, “No, just enjoying my independence,” before giving a warm smile.
The interviewer smiles back and turns off the sound recorder on his desk which separates them both in the spacious, finely decorated office room. Laying down his notes methodically, he addresses the girl.
“Thank you Kyra, I hope that wasn’t too invasive. We just need to collect as much data about our subjects as we can,” the interviewer smiles at her, taking in the sight before him. Kyra’s long, silky, white blonde hair was radiant against her gentle, slim face, and her high cheekbones encompassed a smooth, pale complexion; all serving to cast an exotic impression.
“No, I fully understand, Dr Chain,” Kyra replies.
“Please, just call me Terrence.”
“…Terrence,” she repeats after him. “So what will the study involve?” she asks, trying not to let her eyes linger too long on his, which seem to pierce through his eye-length dark black hair.
He answers without taking his penetrating gaze from her, though his tone and expression is warm. “We are merely looking for your feedback to a new range of massage oils. I cannot give away any more I am afraid, as it may interfere with the results.”
“Oh, okay then,” replies Kyra, pressing against the armrests of her chair, a slight creaking of wood as she leans on them, preparing to be asked to leave. “When will the test take place?”
“If you wait in the waiting room outside while my colleague and I confirm times, we shall inform you shortly on when to expect it to take place. Also, payment will be received following the experiment, so you don’t need to worry about looking for a new job for a little while,” Terrence says with a smile before standing.
“Okay then, I can’t wait to take part in it all,” she responds sweetly and makes towards the door.
Terrence surveys her slim, petite frame as she walks away.
“You have a delightfully mellifluous voice,” he comments suddenly before she can leave. “I do look forward to hearing much more of it.”
“Oh… Th-thanks,” she replies, a little flustered as she partly opens the door, not truly knowing its meaning, though the little smile she notices from him gives her a warm, appreciated feeling nonetheless.
Jonathan sits in the waiting room, thinking about the questions he had been asked and quite surprised at how personal some had been, even delving into his sexual orientation; the way he was looking at the researcher though, he was surprised she even needed to ask. Jasmine was not the kind of person he had expected as one of the researchers; her laid back, flirty manner seemed to make it clear she knew how much he desired women, and her questions about his sexual history seemed to be more for her personal interest than for what the study must surely involve, though it didn’t bother him. Jonathan simply smirked to himself, picturing being back in the office room with her, that devilish grin of hers, those thin, black rimmed glasses that accentuated such suggestive eyes.
He is pulled from his daydreams by a slight girl entering the room.
“Hi,” she says sweetly with a gleaming smile; Jonathan does his best not to settle his eyes on the rest of her body, which is doing its best to draw his gaze. From her form fitting white top to her tight fitting jeans, her clothing succeeds in displaying every aspect of her physical femininity.
“Hey there!” he says as she sits beside him on the black leather settee. They share an awkward, silent moment as they both look around the plain, unspectacular waiting room, only a small table with a jug of water and glasses adding a little diversion to it.
“It’s hot in here isn’t it?” she says aloud as if to break the ice. Jonathan nods before extending his right hand to her.
“I’m Jonathan by the way,” he says coolly, smiling at her warm demeanour. As she introduces herself as Kyra and shakes his hand, he begins to wish that he had made more effort in his clothing. Introducing himself to this stunning looking girl made him very aware that his baggy long sleeved shirt and black jeans hid his athletic build.
“So… You’re here for the study?” he asks, sitting back against the settee and watching her shapely lips as she replies.
“Yeah, but they didn’t tell me anything in particular about the study. Did they mention much to you?”
“No not really,” Jonathan replies, remembering some of the questions he was asked, trying not to smirk at the thought of whether Kyra was asked the same.
“So,” Kyra suddenly spoke a little louder, as if actively trying to snatch her own attention from the path their topic would lead, “What do you do?”
Jonathan clears his throat as if ready to reel off a well-rehearsed speech.
“I’m still looking for work, hard to find anything out there at the moment. I did a course in sports studies but that hasn’t helped too much,” he ends with a wry laugh, but her warm smile and interested gaze implores him to carry on. “I’m really interested in working abroad actually. I have been teaching myself Japanese, somewhere I would love to go to teach.”
“Oh really?! I love anime. And the music… just adore Gackt. I’d love to learn the language!” she responds cheerily.
“So you can understand the lyrics?” he laughs, but her sweet giggle in response alone makes him never want to leave the room.
“So that I can get a little more out of the country when I go on holiday there, bit of a dream destination, you know? It’s just such a difficult language. But what new language isn’t I suppose.”
“Yeah, just about having the determination is all.”
“Maybe you could teach me sometime?” she says with schoolgirl innocence, her brilliant white teeth shining like a beacon to Jonathan. He isn’t sure whether she is serious or not, so simply responds with a smile. So often had he been in this same situation, completely unsure whether a girl was flirting with him or just being polite, yet he always felt like even the slightest smile from a girl was a cause for flirtation. Alas, it was the trappings of his never ending duration of single life.
“Hajimemashita, Jonathan desu, dozo yoroshiku.”
“So what does that mean sensei?” Kyra giggles.
“I’m Jonathan, pleased to meet you.”
“Hmmm… Hajimeshite Kyra dess, dozo yoshiku… I think I need to practice.” The pair of them laughs.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” he says brightly as he leans forward and pours two glasses of water out.
“Anata wa utsukushii desu,” he adds while handing her the drink.
“So that means?”
“You are beautiful. The first sentence I memorized,” he laughs.
She smiles at him “Aww thank you… A right little charmer aren’t you. I bet your girlfriend must love all the compliments.”
“I’m single actually.”
“Really? I am surprised! Guess not all the hot ones are taken,” she smiles. The sentence catches Jonathan by surprise, and he finds himself not wanting this conversation to stop anytime soon.
“How about you?” Jonathan asks.
“I’ve preferred the single life for a little,” she replies gently. “It’s more fun.”
“I agree, besides, you don’t get so tied down. At least, not in the good way anyhow,” he chuckles, hoping he hasn’t overstepped the mark with the remark, but her giggle in response assures him while they both drink.
“So, were they asking you some, um… pretty dodgy questions in there?” Kyra blurts out, suddenly finding the courage to ask what had been on her mind while gazing into Jonathan’s slender face. His large brown eyes were drawing her in and letting her feel so much more relaxed.
“What kind of questions?” he asks slyly with a gentle smile, knowing exactly what she means, but wanting her to linger on it more.
She feels her face get hotter and her cheeks tingle as she answers.
“You know… Like, sexual questions and a
ll that,” she says quickly before diverting her gaze to the table in front of them, watching a bead of water tumble down the glass jug. The way it glides down the smooth curve of the jug makes her suddenly think of something so phallic, so erotic, as she feels herself growing woozy and tired.
Jonathan feels his head spinning as he answers without even thinking what he is saying
“Y-yeah… all about how often I masturbate and when I last had sex. I bet they asked you the same things?” The room started to get darker for him, all while thinking about nothing other than Kyra being asked the same questions. In a jarring flash he imagined her sitting there, masturbating herself in front of him.