The Lesbian Debt- All Chapters free porn video

LAURA AND ERICA

Her girlfriend's cunt tasted as good as ever.

Laura lay in the top position of a nude 69, her short fringe of pink hair hanging over her eyes as she lapped at her lover Erica's pussy. She loved this position. She loved the feel of her large tits being splayed out to either side of her lover's trim stomach; she loved the feel of Erica's boobs against her own midriff. She loved Erica's head between her thighs, loved knowing she could clench her knees together and trap it there. She loved Erica's tongue running up and down the length of her slit and flicking her clitoris. And most of all she loved having her own face buried in her lover's twat; her cheeks wet with Erica's cunt juices and her tongue speared deep into Erica's fuckhole. She knew Erica didn't get much from Laura's tongue actually in her vagina, and knew that Erica would prefer her to gently lick her clitoris, but Laura just loved having her tongue as deep inside another girl as she could manage, surrounded by the salty, sticky walls of Erica's cunt.

Both girls were moaning sluttily into each other’s beavers; both were breathing rapidly, as best they could with a mouth full of snatch. And then something sent Laura over the edge, and she began to squeal shudder and buck her hips violently against Erica's face as a powerful orgasm shivered through her; moments later, Erica came too, abruptly squeezing her thighs together against Laura's head and then slowly relaxing as she came down from the pleasure.

They stayed in the position afterwards, each gently cleaning away the excess sex juices with their tongues. Laura loved the taste of her lover's cunt and wanted to get every last drop. Erica wasn't as much of a fan of drinking cunt nectar for its own sake, but she did it for Laura. Laura got her own way about most things in the relationship. Erica may have been a confident, intelligent woman in public life, but it turned out that once you got her a little horny she was only too happy to submit to whatever her spoiled brat of a girlfriend wanted.

And Laura was a spoiled brat; she knew it. Her mother was rich, and Laura was pretty, and so Laura had never really had to want for anything in her life. She'd been surrounded by an army of boys willing to do anything for her since she'd hit puberty and coming out as a lesbian at age 16 had, if anything, only made them more eager to please her. She'd found a beautiful, submissive girlfriend almost as soon as she'd revealed her sexuality, and to her delight she'd found Erica was more than willing to cook for her, clean for her, and work in a high paying job to support them both. Laura had been free to work easy, undemanding, casual jobs, and spend her money and Erica's on beautiful dresses, comfortable furniture, and (her pet obsession) Japanese collectible statues.

The statues appeared in every room of the house. They covered a wide variety of styles; most were associated with an anime, film, or video gaming franchise. All of them were of women. Some were fully clothed and in dominant poses, but many more were in revealing costumes or wholly or partially nude. Many took submissive or erotic poses. Everywhere one looked in Laura's house, there was a little cartoon woman, offering her naked breasts or bending over to show her ass. Laura didn't collect them because they were sexy; she collected them because they were cute, and she delighted in finding new and rare statues to add to her collection.

Laura knew that dying her own hair pink made her look like an anime character; and she knew that the statues around her house invited even the most gentlemanly men to draw an inevitable comparison between the nude, beckoning anime sluts and herself. She didn't mind. She had no intention of ever doing anything sexual with a man - she was a lesbian, through and through - but it was fun to tease a little. There was a certain satisfaction she took in knowing that her male friends wanted to fuck her, and an even greater satisfaction in knowing that they'd never get to. It wasn't mean spirited - she genuinely liked her friends - but it was fun. And of course, it wasn't the only way she teased. She wore beautiful dresses that emphasized her curves. She touched her friends on the arm or the leg while she spoke to them to emphasize her points. She gave deep, intimate hugs to say hello and goodbye. When she occasionally spotted the hints of an uncontrollable erection in her friends' pants, she felt a little warm glow inside that made her smile the rest of the day.

Perhaps the best bit was knowing that their lust carried over to Erica. Erica was taller than Laura, shyer, with brown hair and boobs a size smaller than Laura's (though still large). And she didn't enjoy cockteasing at all. The male gaze made her blush and feel uncomfortable. She hated dressing sexily for male company, and she hated being the subject of their fantasies, but Laura made her do it anyway, always dressing Erica in short hems and low-cut cleavages whenever male friends came to visit. Men might not make Laura wet, but a pretty girl blushing made her pussy gush every time. Many times that friends came to visit, she ended up hurrying them out of the house early because she was desperate to push her embarrassed lover down on the floor and rape her again and again.

On this afternoon, as she lay here, licking the last juices from Erica's twat, she felt a familiar stress begin to return - a stress she'd hoped to escape with the delicious sex she'd just enjoyed.

Laura was in debt. She was in debt a lot.

Erica always complained that Laura spent too much money on her anime figurines. And Laura did spend a lot; her purchases came to nearly a thousand dollars every fortnight. Between Erica's copious salary and Laura's small contributions from her casual job, they covered it, but it was a lot. They had no savings, and a mortgage on their house. Laura had never let them put anything away; any excess they had went into buying more of the cute nude characters to adorn their house.

So Laura had decided she'd create her own stash of money, so that she wouldn't need to keep being chided by Erica. She had spent the last few weeks watching World Series Poker and had been impressed by how the poker professionals lived the high life on their gambling winnings. So, Laura had taken all the money in Erica's account, gone to an online poker site, and started playing.

By the end of the day she'd lost all of Erica's money. Three days later, she'd somehow managed to wrangle a line of credit from the site and had gone on to lose close to a million dollars more. She would be on the computer still, trying to win back the money, except the site had cut her off.

At first Laura wasn't worried. Erica had assumed the missing money was just Laura buying expensive figurines again, and the extra million dollars wasn't *real* money - it was internet money, which didn't really exist. Nothing was going to happen.

Then the emails had started coming, demanding payment of the money. At first, they'd been generic demands for payment and Laura had ignored them. But then they started becoming more specific. They included personal details about her - her age, her place of work, her date of birth. Her home address. They'd started to freak Laura out.

And then this morning the email had included a photo. It was a photo of Laura leaving the house early in the morning, heading to work. It had been taken from just across the street. Someone not only knew where Laura lived, they had come to her house and taken a photo. And with it was that demand again - to pay back the million dollars she had borrowed.

Laura didn't have a million dollars. She didn't have close to that. Even if she sold the house and the two cars it wouldn't come to a quarter of a million dollars. She didn't have friends she could borrow it from. And her mother was rich, but she and Laura didn't always see eye to eye and Laura knew there was no way her mother would lend her anything close to a million dollars.

She rolled off of Erica and lay on her back, nude, her legs spread, looking at the ceiling.

"Is everything okay, honey?" asked Erica, rearranging herself on the bed to put her head at the same end as Laura's. There were still sex juices glistening on her face, which made Laura smile. Erica used to wipe her face clean after sex, but Laura had made her leave the juices alone for a while because they looked sexy. She knew it humiliated Erica, which was most of the reason Laura did it. With one hand, Erica reached out to stroke Laura's hair.

Laura nuzzled against her lover's hand and wiggled her body to lie against Erica's side. "Yes," she said, in her most convincing lying voice. Erica could never tell when Laura was lying, which was something else Laura loved about her. "You were fantastic. I love you, Erica." She planted a little butterfly kiss on Erica's left tit. She briefly wondered if people would pay to fuck Erica; if Erica would prostitute herself if Laura asked. Probably not a million dollars’ worth of pay, Laura decided.

They lay like that for a while, in nude companionable silence, until Laura decided she wanted to get up. "I think the kitchen's due for cleaning," she said pointedly to Erica. Erica sighed, but obediently got up and started dressing. She would do the cleaning, Laura knew, because Erica would do anything Laura told her to. Sometimes grumbling, sometimes needing coercion, but Laura always won out.

As her lover headed to get the cleaning supplies, Laura pulled on some panties and a loose shirt, and headed for the study. Maybe she could think of a way to deal with these troubling emails.

Chapter 2

TERMS OF REPAYMENT

Laura's study was a small room at the front of the house; it had a large window that would have looked out into the front garden, were it not for the fact that Laura routinely kept the blinds closed. She didn't need passers-by staring at her while she browsed the internet.

The computer itself sat on a pastel pink table, in front of a neon pink chair - in fact, the room generally was colored in shades of pink, including the wall paint - and was decorated with more of Laura's Japanese figurines. A small platoon of little plastic women pouted and beckoned and offered their cleavage to either side of the screen. Laura smiled as she sat down.

Her smile vanished when she checked her email. There was one new message, and the message was simple: a photo of a knife. There was no text.

Laura felt herself go pale. The last of the pleasing warmth from her earlier sex vanished instantly. She was terrified. These people knew where she lived. They had been to her house. And now they were very clearly threatening to hurt or kill her.

She looked at the picture of the knife. It was large, almost a cleaver. She could picture it all too easily piercing into her skin or hacking into her limbs. She felt her hands starting to shake.

Impulsively, she hit "Reply" on the email, and typed.

"Please, I don't have the money to pay you and I don't know where I can get it. But I can probably find some money, and maybe pay in installments? Please please give me a chance. I will do whatever you want."

She hit send.

She sat, shivering, massaging her hands, looking at her computer screen. It was unrealistic to expect an immediate reply. Or maybe any reply. But what else could she do? She couldn't just browse the internet in a state like this. Or let Erica see her, white-faced and shaking. She waited in silence, staring at her email.

She was in luck, or so it seemed. A new email popped up only minutes later.

===

To: Stupid Pink-Haired Bitch

Re: Debt

I'll use simple language so a slut like you can understand.

(1) You still owe us the money. You owe us a million dollars, and we won't go away until it's paid.

(2) You pay us $1,000 a week. This is not a repayment. This is interest. The principal amount of $1 million remains.

(3) We have a range of business, political, and scientific interests. You will perform work for them, as required by us. If we are feeling generous, we may allow this work to credit against your interest payments or even the principal.

(4) If you do not make the repayments, or perform the work, we will use a knife on you. Depending on how we feel, we might kill you, or just cut some bits off. A slut doesn't need feet to suck cock, right?

(5) Your slut girlfriend is pretty; she might be fun to cut too.

(6) If you agree to these terms, you will indicate your acceptance by doing the following things:

(i) Immediately remove your clothes and send us a photo of yourself naked.

(ii) Go to (website provided) and download the software there, which will give us full remote control over your computer and its webcam.

(iii) Never, ever sit in front of this computer again unless your slut tits are visible to its webcam.

We get no value out of seeing your tits and it won't count against your debts; it just amuses us to make you do this.

====

Laura looked at it. She felt both horror and relief. Up until she'd received the email, she'd thought her pleas were futile - that she was inevitably going to be attacked and killed if she couldn't repay the money. This was better - it offered a path out, however dark and horrid. But it truly was horrid. A thousand dollars a week was more than double the rent on their house. Even using all of her salary and Erica's, there would be no money left to eat. And the work - Laura had a horrible feeling the work would be sexual. She couldn't work in a brothel. She was a lesbian. She couldn't fuck men at all, let alone for money. Not that she'd be paid any money, it seemed.

The last instructions were in some ways the worst, because they were immediate. Laura didn't really have time to think about it - she had to do it now. She had never let a man see her naked in her life - was she really going to send a nude photo to a stranger now?

She looked at the picture of the knife again. She knew she was. She knew she was going to do whatever it took to not see that knife up close.

Nervously, she jumped out of her chair, and ran to the study door to check it was closed. She didn't want Erica seeing her, or asking why she was naked, or why she was taking photos of herself. With the door secured, Laura then quickly wiggled out of her shirt and panties, leaving her totally bare. Picking up her phone, she aimed the camera at her nude body and then, blushing, took a photograph. That done, she immediately pulled her panties back on, sat back down at the computer, and uploaded the nude photo.

The photo looked awful. Her body was still flushed from sex with Erica, with her nipples erect and her hair messy. Her boobs looked huge, which Laura particularly hated. She'd always wished she had smaller breasts, and her DD-cup melons were a constant source of embarrassment. In her mind she associated large breasts with porn stars, sluts and heterosexual sex. Good lesbians had small breasts, and no amount of logic or positive self-image had helped her stop feeling like a traitor and a slut for having such large tits.

Pouting with unhappiness, she attached the photo to an email, and sent it.

Then she went to the website she had been given. It was decorated with animated pictures of naked large-breasted women posing, sucking cocks, and being fucked. Laura grimaced. She liked looking at naked women, but not at naked women fucking men. There was a large "download" button in the center of the screen, and she hit it. Her virus scanner immediately warned her she was downloading harmful software; she overrode the scanner and told it to download anyway.

Shortly after installing the software, her webcam light flicked on, shining a malevolent web. Her computer was transmitting video. Someone, somewhere, was looking at her sitting there bare-chested, her tits on display. She blushed even harder and crossed her arms over her bosom.

A new email arrived.

===

To: Stupid Pink-Haired Bitch

Re: Debt

Looking good. Love those fuckballoons. You are one hot slut.

Your first $1,000 is due Friday, but you won't need to pay it because we have work for you instead.

Turn up at the Mayim Research Clinic tomorrow night at 6 pm, and then each weeknight following at the same time. Stay until they send you home and do whatever they say.

You will definitely be paying the $1,000 next week, though, so be prepared.

===

Laura was puzzled. The Mayim Research Clinic? She thought she knew it - a low-lying modern-looking building near the city center. She had no idea what they did there, but it didn't exactly look like a den of horror. And it certainly wasn't a brothel, so she was relieved, at least a little. Plus, the news that she wouldn't have to pay this week was great.

Maybe this wouldn't be so awful, she thought. Maybe she was just going to end up doing unpaid regular work.

She looked at the red light on her webcam, staring down at her tits. She shuddered and turned off her computer.

Chapter 3

THE MAYIM CLINIC

The hardest bit of attending the Mayim Clinic was finding an explanation for Erica of why Laura was going out that night to a previously unmentioned appointment. Normally Laura and Erica did everything together - parties, clubbing, shopping, even doctors' appointments. For Laura to be out at night without her lover was unusual to say the least, and for it to come up at short notice was suspicious.

She decided to stick close to the truth.

"I got a job offer," she told Erica as they sat on the couch that afternoon. It was a Sunday, the end of the weekend, and Sunday afternoons and evenings were usually reserved for watching television on the couch, a home-cooked dinner, and then passionate lovemaking till they fell asleep.

"You didn't tell me you were looking for new jobs," said Erica suspiciously.

"I told you I wasn't getting paid enough at my work didn't I?" replied Laura. "I mentioned to people that if they knew of anything better, they should let me know, and then just now this came out. It's a clerical assistant at some kind of research clinic. It's night work, which sucks, but I should at least go and interview for it, right?"

Laura could see that Erica was torn. She didn't like the idea of losing her lover to work in the evenings, but the idea of Laura earning a bit more and relying less on Erica's paycheck was attractive. Laura helped her make up her mind by leaning in, kissing Erica on the lips, and starting to gently rub Erica's tits. She knew Erica couldn't think properly when she was horny.

"It'll be fine," Laura whispered between kisses. "I'll get paid more, and I promise I'll still fuck you when I come home. I'll wake you up and then fuck you, if you've fallen asleep. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Laura's hand was inside Erica's shirt now, lightly pinching her nipples, and Erica was breathing heavily and was flushed.

"Yes," gasped Erica.

"So it's okay, right?" asked Laura, nibbling at Erica's neck and massaging her breasts.

"Yes," replied Erica.

And just like that, it was settled.

***

The Mayim Clinic was a modern-looking professional building on the outskirts of the city center. It was built low to the ground, had an attractively landscaped garden, and looked for all the world like a suburban doctor's surgery. At 6 pm it was already getting dark, but the Clinic grounds were well lit. Laura entered through sliding glass doors and was impressed by a relaxing and well-furnished foyer overseen by a pretty female receptionist. Laura told the receptionist she was here for an appointment and hoped that someone knew she was coming. The receptionist just told her to take a seat and wait.

Laura hadn't known how to dress; she'd settled on a business suit with a short, professional skirt. She'd thought about how her blackmailer had wanted her topless in front of her computer and wondered if maybe he wanted her to wear something slutty. On the other hand, he'd been fairly explicit about his other demands, and if he'd wanted Laura to further humiliate herself, surely, he would have said something. She wasn't going to demean herself more than she had to.

"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.

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 molded plastic, but there were soft cushions in along the backrest and on parts of the seat. A hole was cut out of the bottom seat, and Laura realized uncomfortably that it was in the right position to allow access to the user's anus. The front of the seat stopped 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 swiveled 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 anus, 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 between 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.

It took her long minutes to recover from cumming, as her vision unblurred, her breathing slowed, and she was slowly able to start thinking about things other than her cunny. The first thing her eyes settled on as she sobered up was the thing she had missed when she came into the room - the video camera, mounted on a tripod in the corner, pointed right at her. It had a clear view of her face, of her tits, of her splayed cunt. And the little red light on it showed she was recording. A video had just been made of Laura nude, restrained, and orgasming. She would have blushed if her face was not already so flushed from sexual activity. She briefly tried to struggle, but her hands were still restrained. And for that matter, the dildo in her pussy hadn't stopped humming and vibrating.

Amy was standing right next to Laura, looking down at her. Was it Laura's imagination, or did Amy look a little flushed herself?

"Why..." started Laura and had to struggle to control her voice. "Why are you doing this?"

"We're testing your baseline sexual reactions," said Amy. "We need to know if you can orgasm - not all girls can, you know - and how fast you orgasm. We want to know what sex does to your heart rate, your body temperature, your breathing. That computer is recording it all. The dildos at your ass and pussy and recording your muscle reactions as well - whenever your cunt squeezes the dildo, it's logged, and whenever your anal sphincter tightens, and whenever you buck against either of them. Plus, they can record anal and vaginal temperature, lubrication levels - they're really very sensitive."

The vibrator was still pulsing in Laura's cunt, and she could feel herself starting to slowly work up to another orgasm.

"Please," she begged. "This is embarrassing."

"Why?" asked Amy. "The only person who's seeing you is me, and I don't mind."

Laura looked at the camera.

"Don't worry about the camera," said Amy vaguely.

"Who will see it?" asked Laura.

"Probably no one," Amy replied.

And then Laura stopped asking questions, because she realized she'd started bucking her hips against the plastic cock again, and the wonderful sensations from that were demanding her attention.

***

They left her strapped to the chair for two hours, and Laura came five times, each orgasm taking longer to reach than the one before. They released her just before her sixth, and Laura was groggy and confused when the vibrator suddenly deactivated and was slipped from her pussy.

"What?" she said. She became aware she was drooling. She didn't care. "Please...." What was she doing? Please what? Was she begging Amy to let her cum? She shook her head, and swallowed the saliva in her mouth, and tried to clear her mind. She felt Amy unbuckling the ankle restraints, and both the presence and the idea of the attractive girl between her legs was overwhelmingly erotic. She involuntarily bucked her hips again, against a dildo that was no longer there, and felt a little squirt of pussy lubricant squeeze from her cunt. She wanted to clamp her legs around Amy and pull the girl towards her - grab her hair and make the beautiful little tease lick Laura's sopping wet twat until she orgasmed again.

But she did no such thing. She just waited until her arms were released and staggered to her feet. She felt exhausted and drained. Amy gave her a cup of water to drink, and she almost dropped it, her muscles were so weak. Her body felt strange and shaky. Laura couldn't remember the last time she had had so many orgasms in one session of sex. Maybe never?

Amy was looking at her, expectantly. Laura wasn't sure why. Was there something she was supposed to do? She searched her memory.

"Say thank you," said Amy.

Laura did it without thinking. "Thank you, Amy," she said. And then thought - wait, what? What was she thanking Amy for? For tying her down? For making her orgasm all those times? For recording it? But it was done now, and Amy was showing Laura to a recovery room.

In the end, they let Laura shower, rinsing the sweat and cunt juices off her body, which felt glorious. Then they gave her back her clothes, which felt strange and heavy now after the time spent naked. Finally, Dr Windred met with Laura and gave her a small bottle of pills.

"These are a pill form of the injection I gave you today. I recommend you take two pills about an hour before coming to the Clinic each day; you don't have to, but otherwise we'll have to give you the syringe when you get here. Please don't stimulate yourself in the hour before coming to the Clinic."

"Stimulate?" asked Laura.

Amy answered. "Don't play with your pussy. No masturbation, no sex. Just for the hour before getting here. That shouldn't be too hard, right?"

Laura agreed that it wouldn't, and, with gratitude, finally left the clinic.

It was only 9.30 pm when she got home. Erica was still up, so Laura wordlessly dragged her lover from the front door to the bedroom, pushed her down onto their shared queen bed, and fucked her. She 69ed her submissive, sexy girlfriend, mercilessly grinding her over-stimulated cunt into Erica's face and licking and biting Erica's cunt so hard that Erica several times moaned in pain. The feeling of Erica moaning into Laura's cunt was pleasurable, so Laura just hurt Erica more, before cumming not once but twice, and then falling into a deep sleep.

Chapter 4

LAURA AT WORK

The next day was a Monday, and that meant work for Laura.

Laura was employed by the government, at the Department of Families. She worked on a casual schedule - Mondays, Thursdays and Fridays only, from 9 to 5. She was a mere data entry clerk, entering invoices and receipts into the system and doing odd jobs for whichever section needed help. It was easy work, and that was exactly how Laura liked it. She had a lot of days off, she had little responsibility, and she got to browse the internet for most of the day.

For work, Laura liked to dress professionally. She wore a blouse, a jacket, and a short professional skirt, much like she had worn to the Mayim Clinic last night. The idea was to look businesslike and appropriate. Laura liked to tease boys, but that was only when she was on her own turf. At work, most of the men were old, and unattractive, and in positions of power over her. She didn't want to encourage them any more than she had to.

Unfortunately, to some extent Laura betrayed herself. She was too much of a fashionista to wear unattractive clothes, so her business clothes were elegantly cut and beautiful, in a functional way. She wore high heels, that accentuated her legs, and made her look both sexy and vulnerable. She wore bright pink panties and bra, because pink was her favorite color, she liked to indulge herself, and after all no one was going to see them. And, to top it off, no clothes could disguise her bright pink anime-girl hair or her large breasts. In short, even dressed as professionally as she knew how, Laura still looked eminently fuckable.

Erica drove both girls to work, dropping Laura off before continuing to her own higher-paid job. All the trip, Laura sat in uncharacteristic silence, thinking about last night at the clinic. Already it seemed like a strange dream; despite her objective knowledge of what she had done, it didn't seem quite real that she had sat naked for two hours and let a vibrator masturbate her to five orgasms, while a stranger watched. Laura alternated between thinking it surely couldn't have been as bad as she remembered and panicking at how slutty she must have looked.

By the time Erica dropped Laura off, Laura's pussy had become uncomfortably wet. Laura felt awkward. It wasn't like her to get aroused quite this easily. It must still be the residue of last night's drugs, she thought. She would need to clean herself up or spend the day surrounded by the odor of aroused cunt. There were toilets inside the building where she could clean up, but she didn't want to even set foot inside the building with a flushed face or smelling like sex. Instead, she found a small, unattractive alleyway alongside the Department building, where the office kept its trash bins, and used some tissues from her handbag to tentatively wipe the moisture away from her cunny. She had to be careful as she didn't want to excite herself even more. After she'd managed to mostly dry her groin, she waited a few more minutes, thinking un-sexy thoughts, until her body had calmed down. Then she went inside.

The worst part of Laura's work was definitely her boss, Alistair. He was a rude, lecherous pig. He was nearly 50, but Laura knew he was married to a big-titted 18-year old blonde who was young enough to be his granddaughter. He seemed to like Laura, or at least her body, as he took every excuse to have private meetings and training sessions with her, and he never looked at her face, only at her large boobs. He had never laid a finger on her or said anything specific that would give cause for a harassment complaint, but he nevertheless made it very clear that he thought of Laura as a delicious fucktoy that fate had delivered into his little bureaucratic empire. He repulsed her on every level.

Laura's two closest co-workers weren't much better. Geoffrey was a bespectacled man with graying hair who was the father of two teenaged girls. He never said much to Laura. He knew she was a lesbian, and that she lived with a female lover, and Laura guessed that he disapproved of her from the icy tone that he took on the occasions when they had to talk. He gave the impression that he would very much like to turn her pink-pantied ass over his lap and spank the lesbianism out of her.

Her other co-worker was Candy, and Candy was a bimbo. She was in her early 20s, like Laura, with dyed blonde hair and obviously fake D-cup tits which she claimed her daddy had bought her for her 18th birthday. She was bubbly and enthusiastic and deferential, and she treated both Alistair and Geoffrey as if they were her beloved father. She giggled at their jokes and complimented them on their looks. She seemed to have a different boyfriend every week and she couldn't go a day without saying something face-slappingly stupid. Laura tried not to look at Candy much, because whenever Candy saw her looking she would say something like, "Um, thanks, but I'm not really into girls, you know? Unless, like, a boy is watching, and then it's totally hot." It made Laura blush bright red every time and arguing with Candy would just result in a stream of claims about how Laura had been ogling Candy's tits or something equally humiliating, so she just stayed focused on her work and tried to pretend she had no co-workers.

Today Laura had barely gotten inside the building before she was intercepted by Alistair. "Laura, meeting in my office before we start," he said brusquely, and Laura had no choice but to follow him to his small dingy office.

Once inside, she took a seat, and he closed the door. He pulled his chair over to sit near to her, instead of across the desk. She was uncomfortably aware he was in touching distance of her.

"Okay, Laura, just a few things. Nothing to be worried about." He laughed as he said this. Laura shivered.

"Number one is about your breasts," he said, and Laura jumped. Her breasts?

"Try and keep them covered better, or at least wear dresses that fit," he went on. "I know they're very large, and you like all the men here to notice them, but it's not appropriate for work."

Laura blushed. She knew she should be angry and indignant about this - how dare he? - but he'd pushed her buttons by mentioning the size of her breasts. Laura WAS embarrassed by their size, and having it mentioned immediately put her on the defensive.

"I don't..." she said. "I mean, they ARE covered."

"I've discussed this at the manager's meeting," Alistair said, "and we're all agreed that it's just not appropriate the way you parade them around. So, there's that."

Discussed at the manager's meeting? The managers had been discussing Laura's breasts? She felt faint, and like she might cry.

"Secondly, it's come to my attention that you're a lesbian," said Alistair.

"What?" jumped Laura. "How?" She immediately realized she'd said the wrong thing. She should have said, "That's ridiculous." She wasn't out of the closet at work and she'd thought no one knew about her and Erica.

"Candy mentioned to me that you'd been propositioning her," said Alistair. Laura went red. She wanted to slap the little bimbo bitch.

"I didn't..." is all Laura could say.

"Well, we wouldn't take her word alone," said Alistair, "so we checked your work email. You regularly email someone called Erica? And your emails are sometimes... quite explicit. The other managers were quite embarrassed even to read it."

Laura was starting to cry now. She'd known they could access her work email, but she hadn't KNOWN known. Only last week she'd emailed Erica saying she couldn't wait to get home and rape Erica's wet little pussy with her tongue. She'd talked about how much she loved the taste of Erica's slutty cunt-juices. She said she'd wanted Erica's slut-nectar smeared all over her face and tits. Why had she written those? How could she look at anyone in the office if all the managers had read those emails?

Alistair went on. "As you're aware, Laura, you work at the Department of Families. Now, there's no law against being a lesbian, and your employment here isn't in any danger. But we work with a lot of people from a lot of cultures, including Muslims, Christians, conservatives - we could really offend someone if we sent a staff member to deal with them, and then it turned out she was a lesbian. So what you need to do is fill out a formal declaration of sexuality, and then we use that to make sure we don't put you in any positions where the fact that you lick cunt will offend people."

He showed Laura a yellow form, with what looked like a list and check boxes.

"So we're just going to go through all this together, okay?" he said, and smiled. He looked at her tits again. "I told you to cover up your breasts, Laura."

Laura hurriedly crossed her arms over her bosom. She could feel a tear running down her left cheek.

"Now, sometimes we hire private investigators to audit these, so be truthful, because if we catch you in a lie you WILL be fired," said Alistair. "So here we go. How long have you been sexually attracted to women, Laura?"

"Since I was 16," said Laura.

"Have you ever had a sexual experience with a male?"

"No."

Alistair marked the form. "When was your first sexual experience with a girl?"

"At 16," said Laura.

"How many girls have you fucked?" Alistair went on.

Laura baulked. "Does the form really say fucked?" she asked.

"Of course not, I'm paraphrasing to make this go quicker," said Alistair. "I'm trying to be helpful. How many girls have you fucked?"

"Just one," said Laura.

"Is that this 'Erica'?" asked Alistair.

"Yes."

"And you're still fucking her at present?"

"Yes."

"Do you lick her cunt?"

"What?" asked Laura. This was getting invasive.

"Sorry, do you perform oral sex on her?" said Alistair, rephrasing.

"Yes," said Laura, her face red and streaked with tears.

"And she on you?"

"Yes."

"Do you use strap-on dildos?"

"Sometimes."

"Do you fantasy role-play?"

Laura couldn't believe these questions. "Can I see the form?"

"Sure," said Alistair. He showed it to her, without letting go of it. It said exactly what he said it did.

"Sometimes we roleplay," said Laura reluctantly.

"What scenarios?" asked Alistair. Laura could now see that his dick was rock-hard in his pants.

"Schoolgirl and teacher," she said. "Police officer and criminal. Fantasy princess and warrior." She paused. "Sometimes... rape stuff."

"You fantasize about being raped?"

"By girls. Sometimes."

"Do you ever engage in BDSM?"

"Sometimes."

Alistair put his hand on Laura's knee, and she flinched. "It's okay, Laura, almost done. We just need this. To your knowledge, does anyone have any compromising photos of you, of your partner, or the two of you together?"

Laura thought of the photo she had emailed just yesterday. But she was damned if she was going to tell Alistair about that. "No," she said.

Alistair released her knee. "Right, then! That's all done! You can get on with your work. And remember to stop showing off those melons of yours, okay?"

Laura was still crying. "Can I have a moment to..."

"No, Laura, we're very busy today. Just get to your desk, okay?"

Laura got to her feet unsteadily and left Alistair's office. It was obvious to everyone that she was crying. She tried to look daggers of hate at Candy as she walked to her desk, but she wasn't sure she got the point across through all the tears.

Working was hard; Laura was tempted to just go home sick for the day, but she was going to need to start making these payments to her blackmailer next week - she didn't want to do anything to risk her employment. So, she sat, and she did her job, and tried to pretend that she hadn't just been made to discuss her sexual history with her boss.

At lunch she went to the staff courtyard, where she met her only two friends at the Department. Taylor was a cute, thin blonde, a couple of years younger than Laura. She shared Laura's love of anime and was always eager to look at pictures of Laura's newest figurines. By contrast, Michael was tall and broad shouldered, not too bright but good natured and friendly. Laura sat with the two of them as they ate sandwiches purchased from the cafeteria and tried to forget her awful morning.

Neither of them knew Laura was gay. They were friends, but they were work friends, and Laura didn't want that coming out at work. So, she didn't talk about her morning, or what Alistair had said to her, even though they could both tell that she was upset.

Spending time with them helped. Taylor's cheerfulness and enthusiasm were contagious. As far as Michael went, teasing a boy a little always made Laura feel a bit better, even if this particular boy didn't know that she was unavailable. She went carefully with Michael, limiting herself mostly to casual touches on his arms or legs as she spoke to him and a bit of flirty eye contact, but by the time lunch was over Michael was quite flustered and Laura felt much improved.

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Michael as they were putting their rubbish in the bin. He genuinely cared.

"I'm fine," said Laura, doing her best fake smile.

Taylor came up behind her and gave her a hug. "We love you, you know?" the cute blonde said. "Let us know if there's anything." Taylor released Laura, and then bounced excitedly. "Oh, you said last week we could come and see your figurines. When can we do that?"

Laura thought about her weeknights, now taken up with work at the clinic. "How about next weekend?" she said. "Saturday?"

"Sounds great," said Michael.

After lunch the rest of the day was easier. Remembering she had friends made Laura feel less worried about the other recent developments in her life. She got through the long afternoon and found herself facing the prospect of her second night working at the Mayim Clinic.

Chapter 5

THE FIRST MAYIM SESSIONS

Laura went to the toilet near the end of the work day and took the pills she'd been given by Dr Windred. They reminded her of how horny she'd been this morning, a horniness that she'd never satisfied, and for a moment she thought about locking herself in a toilet stall and jilling off. But she didn't trust herself to masturbate at work without being caught, and anyway Amy had told her not to play with herself before turning up at the clinic.

So she just left work, her pussy already wettening.

Erica still had the car, so Laura travelled from work to the clinic by working. It wasn't far - Laura's work was in town, so the clinic was only five blocks away. She'd walked much farther around the city when going shopping. But somehow this felt different. She spent every step of the way thinking about her cunt - about how wet it had been that morning, about how wet it was getting now from the pills, and about whether that sexy Amy was going to put a plastic cock into it again tonight. Laura tried to think about other things, but it was no good. The chemicals pulsing in her body were stimulating and reinforcing her arousal, making it hard to think about anything other than her vagina.

By the time Laura had reached the clinic, her labia were massively engorged, her panties were sopping wet with cunt juices, and even just the feeling of her thighs rubbing together as she walked was so erotic that Laura was making little slutty moans with every fourth or fifth step. She stopped outside the clinic, feeling dizzy, and thought about the state she was in. She couldn't just go in there with wet panties, could she? But she couldn't very well take them off, and besides, without her panties her cunt juices would just run down her legs. Maybe she should stop here and take off her panties anyway. Maybe she should try and wipe away some of her slut nectar from her cunt. Maybe she should just stand her and rub her pussy a bit - it would feel so good....

She snapped back into control to find her hand already fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. She couldn't believe herself - she had almost just started masturbating on a public street. These pills were incredibly strong. She'd have to be careful of this in the future. She decided to just hurry inside - as embarrassing as her aroused twat was, it had to be what Dr Windred and her assistants were expecting from the pills, so they probably wouldn't mind.

She didn't have to wait in reception this time - Amy was already there and looked please to see her. The pretty strawberry-blonde girl was smiling in a way that did interesting things to Laura's already pulsing beaver.

"Oh, I'm so glad you came back," she said, taking Laura's hand. It felt good - Amy's skin was smooth and soft.

"Of course I came back," said Laura, the heavy breathing she'd been doing making her voice sound funny.

Amy grinned mischievously. "I can see you took your pills," she said. Laura, humiliated, looked away. God, Amy could even see how wet Laura was while Laura still had her clothes on.

She let Amy lead her from reception into the hallway beyond, and to the same room Laura had changed in last time.

"Same as before," Amy said. "Clothes off. At least you won't get an injection in your tit this time, hey?"

"That's a plus," admitted Laura. She shuffled behind the screen this time without objection. She was still hoping that tonight would be a repeat of last night. She could almost feel that plastic vibrator buzzing in her twat already. She was so aroused she couldn't resist squeezing her melons a couple of times as she removed her bra, tweaking her diamond-hard nipples, and then giving her soaking-wet snatch a quick few rubs as she took of her panties. She wasn't sure what to do about the panties - they were wet and sticky from her fuck nectar - but she really couldn't think of anything other than to just bundle them with her other clothes. Holding her clothes in a bundle that covered her boobs, she stepped out from the screen to give them to Amy.

Only Amy wasn't there. While Laura had been getting changed, Amy had vanished, and been placed by Dr Windred's other assistance, Royce. Who was male.

Laura froze. A boy was looking at her, and she was naked. As best as Laura knew, no boy had ever done that in her life. At least not face to face - (the webcam didn't count, right?).

He was obviously interested in what he saw. He was smiling, and visibly looking up and down her body, from her blushing face, to her exposed and aroused cunny, to her tits, mostly covered by her bundle of clothes.

Laura squealed, and jumped back behind the screen.

"Amy's getting the room ready," Royce called to her. "You need to hand over your clothes to me."

"Can I have a gown?" asked Laura.

"No," said Royce. "Come on, we're on a tight timetable. If you don't want to participate we can't make you, but if you're going to do it, you need to do it to our schedule."

Laura groaned inwardly. She couldn't not participate - her blackmailer would kill her.

Reluctantly, she stepped out into Royce's view again. She tried to position the bundle of clothes so as to cover both her boobs and her vagina, but then realized she had to give them to Royce anyway, and so reluctantly handed them over, leaving her completely exposed to his gaze.

Royce grinned. He reached into the pile of clothes and extracted the wet panties, holding them with one hooked finger.

"Did you have an accident?" he mocked.

Laura tried to ignore him. "Dr Windred's room, or the... room with the chair?"

"Are you in a hurry for the chair, are you? Want a cock in that little lesbo cunt of yours?"

Laura flushed with fury. The worst bit was that she was still aroused. Surely this kind of ass-hattery would get in the way of her sexual buzz? But it wasn't, a