A Cheater's Regret (Chapter 2) free porn video

Jesus, if I had known it would be so cold today I wouldn't have worn a skirt. I escape the chilly cold of winter as I step back into my dorm building. I reach my door and slide my key into the lock. I walk into the cold darkness. My roommate Melanie is gone. Probably out partying with her bimbo friends.

The door swings shut with a bang behind me and I almost jump through the ceiling. Looks like Melanie forgot to close the window. Why would that dumb bitch even open it in the first place?

It's not until that moment that the gravity of what just happened to me sinks in.

I remember the fear when the nurse ordered me to strip.

I remember the humiliation as Dr. Manyard molested me in front of a room full of people.

I remember the pure pleasure I felt as she forced me to have the most wonderful, explosive orgasm of my entire life.

Banishing the guilty thoughts to the back of my mind, I cross the room to shut the window.

I feel dirty.

A warm shower is one of the few joys I get out of winter. But today, the white tiled bathroom reminds me too much of the medical room where I was sexually humiliated. I shudder at the thought of what happened to me – but strangely, I don't regret it. I want to, but I don't.

I undress, tossing my clothes into the laundry hamper in the corner. I blush as I slip off my drenched panties. It has been more than an hour, but my pussy is still dripping wet with excitement. I feel like a slut.

The steel sensor collar and bracelet are annoying, but I am starting to get used to them. I feel shocked and embarrassed at the thought of wearing them in public, but fortunately, they look pretty unobtrusive. I could pass them off as fashionable jewelry – the uninformed person wouldn't be able to guess their actual purpose... and the fact that I cannot take them off. I feel like a slave, completely at the mercy of Dr. Manyard and her medical staff.

The hot water feels good, but it doesn't help wash away the guilt and confusion I feel.

I slip my hand between my legs, washing away the sticky wetness. My lips are still swollen and aching with desire. I remember the doctor's gloved hands teasingly skating over my body. My fingers find my clit. A soft gasp escapes my lips.

It's strange, I don't consider myself a sexual person at all. I went months without ever pleasuring myself, yet here I am barely an hour after the examination completely lost in a sexual fantasy.

I remember Dr. Manyard forbidding me from having another orgasm. The desperate urge for relief is building, I have to force myself to stop. Desperately fighting against the rising pressure in my pussy, I pull my fingers out.

I just barely stopped myself from coming. God, that was close. I touch the collar around my throat. If I had an orgasm, Dr. Manyard would know, and I would be expelled for sure.

I shut off the water and grab a towel to dry myself off. I head back into my room.

Melanie is back. God, I hate her. She's considerably taller than me – a lanky, somewhat awkward-looking girl with mousy-brown hair. Not very attractive, but she overcompensates by being a party animal. What does she even study again? Nursing I think. Well, I guess if that doesn't work out for her there's always hooking.

I know she's the one who ratted on me about writing Matthew's paper. I hate her so much. Yet, sickeningly, I'm glad things turned out this way. My hate for Melanie is overshadowed by my disgust for myself. God...

“Nice necklace,” Melanie says.

Strange, she rarely engages me in conversation willingly.

“Thanks,” I mumble, dropping my towel.

She looks at me as I fumble with my pajamas. I don't like her looking at me – but the unwanted attention is also exciting. Jesus, I never felt like this ever until today. What the hell is wrong with me?

“Dr. Manyard gave it to you, didn't she?”

I freeze in horror. How does she know about that?

“Yeah...” I confess.

“She's one of my instructors in the nursing program,” Melanie says. “She showed us the collars in one of her classes. It measures your heart rate and stuff, right?”

“Ummm... yeah, that's right,” I stutter.

“That's cool, are you in that study she's doing?” she asks.

Oh God. I blush in embarrassment.

“Yes.”

Melanie's eyes light up.

“She's researching like, female sexuality and stuff, right?”

I nod. For the first time since we met, Melanie seems genuinely interested in me.

“That's really awesome!” she exclaims. “But... you don't have to like... do anything... embarrassing, do you?”

My heart is pounding.

“Like what?” I ask.

“Like... have an orgasm in front of her?”

I shake my head vigorously.

Melanie seems skeptical.

“Oh, okay,” she says doubtfully. “Because she showed us some videos from some other girls she was working on, and they had to do a lot of stuff like that.”

I'm lost for words. God, does Melanie suspect I'm being forced to do that too?

“No!” I insist.

She looks at me for a minute. I'm still naked. Her gaze moves down my body – does she see how incredibly aroused and wet I still am?

“Okay,” Melanie says skeptically.

She sits down at her desk and opens up her computer.

Jesus, that was embarrassing. I finish dressing and go to bed.

I'm horny.

The sun is out the next morning. The air is warm, and the snow from yesterday has melted away into the fresh green grass. Even some of the birds are out, chirping cheerily from the brush outside the dorm building. The improved weather emboldens me enough to wear a little blue sun dress. It had been sitting in the back of my closet for months – too daring for me to normally want to wear, but today is different. I want to feel pretty today. I slip it on over my head, tucking in my bra straps as best as I can. The bottom hem of the dress ends just below my hips. I'm going to be cold a lot today. I put on a warm jacket over it and sling my backpack over my shoulder. To my dismay, there's already an increasing wetness underneath my panties, which is further inflamed by the updraft of cool air up into my dress.

I sit down in my math class. I've been doing good up to this point, but today I have a hard time concentrating. As the teacher is droning on about exponents or something, my mind keeps wandering back to my session at the clinic.

My humiliating sexual torment.

My massive orgasm as Dr. Manyard fingered my pussy.

My hands keep wandering back up to my collar. No one has noticed it or commented on it so far. The collar, and the bracelet matching it, aren't particularly conspicuous. But I know what they're for, and that is enough to keep me hot and bothered.

When the doctor downloads the data next week, will she know how horny I've been?

Class ends and everyone stands up and starts filing out the door. Nobody likes math, the classroom is usually emptied under a minute. But today I sit still in my chair. The sexual tension is killing me. I want to masturbate. But I know if I start teasing myself, I won't be able to stop. I'll have an orgasm, and Dr. Manyard will know.

“Are you alright?” the math teacher asks.

“Y-y-yes sir,” I gasp, barely able to concentrate enough to get up from my chair and stumble out of the room.

God, I still have my English literature class today. I am honestly considering just skipping it. Maybe if I just go to sleep I'll be able to calm down my sexual urges a little. Maybe. This is awful. Why is this happening to me?

I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out – its a call from the school administrative office.

“H-hello?” I answer, trying my best not to sound horny.

“Is this Katie?” the woman on the other end asks.

I recognize the voice. It's Ms. Turring's secretary.

“Yes, this is Katie.”

“You need to report to Ms. Turring's office ASAP,” she instructs me.

“Okay, I'll head over right away,” I say.

“Alright, we'll see you shortly,” she says tersely before hanging up on me.

I put the phone away. Gloom settles in. What am I being called in for? Oh no. They've changed their minds and decided to expel me after all. But I tried so hard! I fight back the tears.

Ten minutes later I arrive at Ms. Turring's office. The secretary is seated at her desk by the door.

“There you are, they're waiting for you inside,” she says tersely.

Not waiting or caring for a response from me, she goes back to typing at her computer, as if I'm not even there. I glance through the large window behind the secretary into Ms. Turring's office. She's seated at her desk, talking to some people I can't quite see from this angle.

I look back at the secretary. I'm invisible to her. Oh well, might as well as well bite the bullet – I take a deep breath and open the door.

Ms. Turring is talking to a man and a woman in lab coats.

“Ah, Katie, come in,” Ms. Turring says. “These two people are here to see you from Dr. Manyard's clinic.”

The woman, a slender blonde with a a blue ribbon tying back her pony tail, smiles and shakes my hand.

“Hi, I'm Samantha Cross, I'm from the clinic,” she tells me, “You can call me Sam.”

I nod nervously. I stare at the stray strands of blonde hair framing Sam's heart-shaped face, her full lips, and the hint of her gentle curves underneath the lab coat.

“You're not in any trouble, Katie,” Sam assure me. “We're just conducting a follow-up from your session with Dr. Manyard yesterday.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling relieved already. I was scared they were here to tell me I was being disqualified. Thank God.

“I'm going to collect some data from your sensor collar, and conduct a quick physical exam on you,” she continues. “Go ahead and undress for me.”

I pause for a moment. They're going to examine me right here? The secretary is clearly visible outside the office window. If she looked back, she would plainly see what is going on. I look over at the blonde's male counterpart – he clears a vase of flowers from a table on the other side of the office and lays out a strip of tissue paper, like the one covering the metal table during my session at the clinic yesterday. I don't know what's about to happen, but I can make a really good guess.

I take off my jacket and my shoes. Sam is messing with a laptop set up up on the corner of Ms. Turring's desk. Sam's male counterpart finishes with the tissue paper and comes over to help her. I reluctantly pull my sun dress over my head. All I have left on is my underwear. I hesitate. I really don't want to get naked here of all places.

Sam stops her work and looks at me.

“Is there a problem?” she asks. “Are you having second thoughts about the study?”

“No, no!” I say.

I finally work up the nerve to reach behind my back and unsnap my bra. Jesus, my nipples are already rock hard. Both of the technicians watch me impatiently. Ms. Turring on the other hand seems more focused on whatever is on her computer screen. She picks up the phone and dials a number. I hear her talking to whoever is on the other end about some email she is reading.

I take off my panties and add them to the stack of clothing on the floor.

“Sit on the table,” Sam orders me.

I obey. I'm quivering with anticipation. What is Sam going to do to me? She picks up a cable attached to her computer and snaps it into my collar.

“You alright?”

“Y-yes,” I stammer. “I'm good.”

“Okay, now I'm going to ask some questions while the collar uploads,” she tells me. “Has anything noteworthy happened since your session yesterday?”

“No,” I answer.

“In that time, have you had an orgasm?”

“No,” I answer again.

The blonde doesn't talk right away, she's engrossed with her screen. I see concern flash across her face.

“According to the sensors, at approximately 5 PM yesterday, you were extremely sexually aroused,” she says. “Were you masturbating?”

I feel busted. Will Sam be angry with me?

“Yes... I did... a little,” I confess.

“But you stopped yourself before you reached orgasm?”

“Yes,” I say.

“The collar confirms that – increasing sexual pleasure, but you didn't climax – so no harm done,” Sam says. “What were you doing when you started to masturbate?”

“I was in the shower.”

“What were you thinking about?”

I'm slow to answer, its so embarrassing.

“Were you thinking about your session with Dr. Manyard?” she asks, as if she already knew the answer.

“Yes,” I blush.

Sam pauses to write some notes on a clipboard, her lovely red lips pursed in concentration.

“What specifically were you thinking about from the session?”

Wow.

“I... I... I was thinking about... Dr. Manyard...”

“When she was sexually stimulating you?” Sam finishes for me.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Alright... so you were in the shower, and you started having a sexual fantasy about what happened to you at the clinic?”

I nod. I'm too embarrassed to even speak.

“And you started to masturbate?”

I nod again.

“What made you stop?”

It takes me a while to answer, but I finally work up the courage. Its weird expressing my sexual thoughts to a complete stranger, but stranger things have happened to me lately.

“I was afraid of being punished.”

“I see,” Sam says, writing on her clipboard. “Subject continues to exhibit submissive tendencies.”

She snaps on a pair of gloves and picks up a stethoscope. My heart jumps into my throat as she presses it against my chest.

“Breathe in,” she says. “Breathe out.”

“Breathe in.”

“Breathe out.”

She puts down the stethoscope.

“How aroused are you right now?” she asks. “One being not aroused at all, ten being in the middle of an orgasm.”

“Uhh... five? Yeah, five,” I answer.

“Dr. Manyard informed me that you are very easy to sexually stimulate and have a hard time staying still,” she says. “Would you like to be restrained?”

I remember the nurse tying me up yesterday. I remember how completely helpless I was as she pinned my arms as the doctor abused me.

“Yes,” I say.

I feel my desire rising up between my legs as the male technician grabs my wrists and ties them behind my back with a velcro strip. Sam turns on a voice recorder and puts it down on the table near my leg.

On the other side of the window there's a student talking to the secretary. He happens to look up and sees me through the glass – his expression contorts in confusion and excitement. I can see his disappointment as the secretary sends him away.

The blonde casually runs her fingertips over my nipples. I can barely hold back a moan, but she can see the pleasure rising up in my face.

“Subject is responsive to nipple stimulation,” she says.

My hands writhe behind my back, I am completely helpless – my blonde tormenter can do whatever she wants to me. Sam forces my legs apart and rubs her hand up my pussy lips. Her fingertips pause teasingly over my clit, sending spasms of arousal into my stomach.

“Ooh!” I whimper.

“Subject experiences high levels of sexual pleasure to vaginal stimulation and is vocalizing,” she says.

Sam looks me in the eyes. I look back, desperately trying to hide how incredibly turned on I am.

“I have been instructed to collect at least 50 milliliters of arousal fluid from you,” she tells me.

My eyes widen with shock.

“Don't worry,” she assures me. “I'll be gentle.”

“I know you have class soon, I am giving you a letter excusing you if you are running late,” Ms. Turring interjects.

I still feel apprehensive.

“I know you are extremely aroused right now, I'll be careful not to induce an orgasm” Sam assures me. “We will take as long as we need to.”

The male technician sets up a mobile monitor machine on the table and attaches several suction cups to my chest. The blonde opens up her medical kit and produces a small vacuum tube. It reminds me of the kind the dentist used when I got my teeth cleaned. Except this one has a soft, padded rubber cup at the end.

The blonde puts her hand on my chest and pushes me back on the table. I feel the sterile tissue paper crinkle under me.

“Ready when you are,” the male says.

“Okay... just relax,” Sam instructs me.

I tremble in excitement. What is this going to feel like?

I find out quickly.

The blonde gently manipulates my body – every touch, every stroke, every soft caress of her gloved hands sends shock waves of pleasure up and down my spine. She tenderly cups my breast and takes my hardened nipple in between her fingers.

“Oh God...” I moan.

She gently parts my lips in between her fingers, and I feel the buzz of the vacuum tube gently sucking away the building dampness.

“How are we doing?” she asks.

“Good,” the male replies. “I'll let you know if you push her too far.”

Sam lightly strokes my clit back and forth. I feel the sexual buildup gushing out, only to be sucked into the whirring rubber mouth. I feel a drip escape from my lips and run down toward the tissue paper – the technician chases after it and catches it with the hose.

“Oh... oh... oh God...” I gasp.

“You're doing great, hang in there,” she says sweetly.

I jump as the office door suddenly swings open. Its the secretary and one of the other office assistants, a pretty little brunette.

“Jones wants to know if you're still going to the faculty meeting today,” she says to Ms. Turring.

“Why would he even ask, why wouldn't I?” Ms. Turring answers, sounding exasperated.

I wish I was invisible. All these people just going about their day while I'm tied up and naked on a table, being sexually objectified.

“I also have some release forms for you to sign,” the secretary says, handing Ms. Turring a folder.

I feel the Sam's fingers dip into my pussy.

“Ooohhhhh!” I moan desperately.

Ms. Turring closes up the folder and hands it back to her secretary. My moans are getting louder and louder, but no one seems to notice.

“Ma'am, do you have the draft notes from the meeting yesterday?” the brunette office assistant asks.

“Hmmm, oh, I think I left it on that table,” Ms. Turring replies, gesturing in my direction.

“Yeah, its still there, I forgot to move it before we started, sorry,” the male technician says.

The office assistant approaches me. I look up at her, my cheeks bright red with shame. She slides her hand underneath me and lifts me up by my bound wrists.

Sam starts to vigorously stroke my clit, mopping up my wetness with the hose.

“Ooooohhhhhhh God, oh God!”

The office assistant holds me firmly, retrieving the hidden folder underneath the tissue paper. I'm shaking and gasping in pleasure under the Sam's cruel fingers. I look up at the office assistant, a moan slipping past my lips.

“I think you're really brave for doing this,” she says to me with a smile.

She nods to Ms. Turring and follows the secretary back out the door.

I feel myself about to come at any second, but Sam holds me right at the edge, continuing to skate the torturous suction cup across my soaked pussy.

She torments me for what seems like an eternity.

Finally, its over. Sam releases me and turns off the vacuum hose.

“All done, you can get dressed,” she smiles, pulling the sensor cups from my chest.

I'm so horny I am literally going insane.

The man unties me and I stumble back over to my clothes. As I finish dressing, Ms. Turring hands me an envelope.

“You're running late, give this to your teacher when you get to class.”

Sam holds me back from leaving right away, handing me a business card.

“You are still forbidden from having an orgasm until the next session,” she says. “Hold out as long as you can, but if the pressure is too much, you can call the clinic, and Dr. Manyard might agree to let you come early.”

“O-o-okay,” I stammer.

“We're open nine to five on week days, call any time during those hours to set up an appointment.”

When I pass the secretary on my way out she doesn't even acknowledge me. She has to know what just happened to me in there. She must think I am a complete slut. Every time I think I couldn't be humiliated any more, something even more degrading happens.

As make my way through the school, I feel the heat growing between my thighs. Despite the vacuum tube sucking away at me for half an hour, my sexual buildup has already returned in full force. I want to come so bad, but I can't.

I get to my English class. I look at the clock - I'm almost forty-five minutes late. I'm so horny my knees are wobbling. Jesus, everyone is looking at me. I approach the professor and give him the envelope from Ms. Turring. I haven't even looked at the letter yet, I don't know what it says.

“You're in Dr. Manyard's sexual research program?” he asks me, taking off his glasses.

“Yes sir,” I reply.

“Ms. Turring says in this note that you might be too flustered to be able to participate in class, and can be excused if you wish,” he says.

“No, I'm okay,” I tell him, hurrying to my seat.

I try my best to focus in class, but I can't. My need for relief is overwhelming, and I am completely helpless. Try to think about something else. Try to think about something else. Try to think about something else... its not working. The hands of the clock sluggishly creep toward 3:00 PM. I know we're due for another break then, and I'm practically dying for it. All I can think about is the humiliation I just endured in Ms. Turring's office... and it's driving me wild.

The teacher stops his lecture, and announces a fifteen minute break. Thank God.

A nerdy looking guy with glasses sitting in the row in front of me motions the students next to him and they crowd around his computer screen. I find myself looking too – anything to get my mind off of the growing desire inside of me. He brings up a video.

To my horror, it's a girl with raven-black hair strapped to a table at Dr. Manyard's clinic. She's completely naked, every inch of her bare skin glistening with sweat. Her chest is heaving up and down as gloved hands fasten cables to her small brown nipples. She is wearing a steel collar and a bracelet just like mine. The volume is turned down, but its just loud of enough for me to hear the poor girl moan uncontrollably as the current shoots through her body.

I feel pressure building up in between my thighs. I think my own humiliating session at the clinic. I think about what Sam just did to me in Ms. Turring's office.

“What is this?” one of the guys asks.

“It's that sex study I told you about,” the nerd replies. “They're doing all this crazy research into female sexual behavior.”

“Cool!”

The raven-haired girl is begging for mercy.

“Please... please let me come!” she pleads.

“I will induce an orgasm when I have the data I need,” a voice says.

I recognize it. Its Dr. Manyard's voice.

The helpless girl's body spasms in pleasure to the rhythm of the electrical current. The gloved hand returns and starts playing with her drenched pussy.

“Subject is response to level 4 current, and has extreme levels of arousal fluid,” the doctor says.

I stare into the screen, completely entranced. My hand wanders underneath the hem of my sun dress and starts teasing my wet lips. I try to be quiet but accidentally let out a moan.

“Oh...”

One of the boys looks back at me, and I try to appear as innocent as possible – but my hand stays in between my legs.

Suddenly the raven-haired girl screams as her orgasm splashes out across the table.

The nerd sees the teacher walking nearby and quickly closes the video. With every ounce of effort I can muster, I force myself to stop masturbating. I thought I was incredibly aroused earlier, now I feel ten times worse.

“Wow...” one of his friends says. “Where do they find those girls?”

“The girls are all students at the school,” the nerd says.

“And they just volunteer?”

“Nah, from what I understand, usually its because they got in trouble, but are given the option of doing this instead of facing discipline.”

“Damn dude!”

“It gets better,” the nerd replies. “The girls are required to wear a sensor collar and bracelet throughout the week in between their appointments.”

I become incredibly self-aware of my own collar clearly visible around my neck. God, I hope they don't recognize it.

By the time class is over, I realize I have no choice but to call the clinic and move up my appointment. There is no chance of me making it another six days in this condition.

I step out into the hallway and look at my phone. Its almost four in the afternoon, but they should still be open. I frantically call the number the blonde researcher gave me earlier.

My heart sinks. All I get is a voicemail. They must have closed early today. I have to wait until tomorrow.

I slink back to my dorm room – I can't even walk without inflaming my burning arousal. Melanie is already back. She gives me an odd look as I come in.

“Are you okay?” she asks with genuine concern in her voice.

“I'm fine I mutter,” dropping my bag and slumping down on the bed.

“You don't sound okay.”

I don't answer. Why doesn't that bitch just mind her own business?

It's a long night. I lay awake for hours, until my drowsiness finally wins out over my aching desire.

The next morning comes way too quickly. I groggily reach out to my alarm clock. Its six in the morning.

I'm still horny.

Thank God I don't have any classes today. The clinic opens at nine. I sit up in bed, staring at the clock, desperately waiting for the minutes to slip by. I look over at Melanie – she's still asleep. Good. I dial the clinic the second the clock strikes nine.

Shit, the voicemail message comes up again. I redial. Still no one picks up.

I dial again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Finally, someone answers.

“Manyard clinic, this is Samantha Cross, how can I help you?”

My arousal flares up. It's Sam – the blonde technician who sexually tormented me yesterday.

“Umm... this is Katie, the girl from yesterday,” I say.

“Hello Katie, what is going on?” she asks flatly.

“I-I-I... I need to come in... please, as soon as possible!”

Sam pauses for a long time before answering.

“Are you worried you won't be able to hold back from an orgasm before your scheduled appointment?”

“Yes!” I gasp.

“Just a minute,” Sam puts me on hold.

I listen to the stupid jingling tone for what seems like a million years. Finally, Sam returns to the phone.

“Katie?”

“Yes?” I answer.

“How aroused are you right now?” she asks. “One being not aroused at all, and ten being in the middle of an orgasm?”

“Uh... six.” I say.

“Hold on,” Sam puts me on hold again.

God, it feels like an eternity.

“Katie?”

“Yes!” I answer, trying not to sniffle into the phone.

“You're in luck, there is a slot open for you to come in today. Is four in the afternoon good?”

“Yes, that's fine, thank you so much!” I cry, completely overjoyed.

“We will see you then,” Sam hangs up.

I put the phone down.

Seven hours to go.

I squeeze my legs together in a pitiful attempt to fight back the rising pressure. I bite my lip desperately. Hot tears run down my face as I break down sobbing. This is so awful – I am so horny its maddening. I can't take it anymore!

The rest of the morning and early afternoon are a nightmare of overwhelming desire and anticipation. All I can think about is my desperate need for sexual relief, but the more I think about what they are going to do to me at the clinic, the hornier and more miserable I get.

Finally I can't take it anymore, and decide to leave – if I get there early, maybe they'll see me early.

Smoothing out the wrinkles in my sun dress, I get myself ready. I don't own a car, and I would never dare ask someone for a ride for this. I'm taking the bus, just like I did last time.

As I walk to the bus stop outside the dorm building, my heart skips a beat. Its the redhead I saw snooping around in the clinic yesterday. She's dressed in torn jeans, a low-cut tank top, and an old leather jacket. But above all else, she wears a certain cockiness about her that I don't like.

Oh God, she recognizes me.

“Hey,” she says, stepping up next to me.

I ignore her, silently praying for the bus to show up soon.

“My name is Lori Franklin, and I'm the editor for the student newspaper,” she says.

I don't respond.

She looks at the collar around my throat.

“You don't have to do this, you know.”

I turn to look at her.

“Do what?” I ask innocently.

She rolls her eyes.

“Come on now, I know what happened to you in the clinic yesterday.”

I blush with embarrassment.

“I know what Dr. Manyard is doing is wrong, I just need to prove it,” Lori continues.

Could that bus please show up now?

Lori reaches into her purse and pulls out a scrap of paper.

“This is my cellphone number and email, call me if you decide you want to talk to me,” she says, slipping the paper into the top of my bra.

I stand still as she walks away.

Could she really help me?

What if I don't want to be helped?

The bus finally arrives and I hop on board. I just want to get to the clinic. God, I just want to get to the clinic and get my sanity back.

I arrive an hour early. I walk into the waiting room with the stupid fish. There's several other people hanging around. It's so weird seeing normal human beings here for normal reasons, unlike me. I knock on the door. Maybe someone will let me in early. The door opens. I step back in fear – its the stern nurse.

“Why are you so early?” she asks gruffly.

“I... I...err...” I don't know what to say.

I can see the total contempt in her eyes. She seems to have made it her personal goal to make my life difficult.

“Turn around and put your hands behind your back,” she mutters, exasperated.

I obey, and I feel the nurse strapping my wrists together. A couple of the other people in the room look at me strangely. Why does the nurse have to humiliate me in front of all these strangers?

The nurse pulls me by the arm into the dark hallway, leading me through one of the doors into an examination room. It's much larger than the previous ones I've been in, filled with various machines and lots of chairs.

In the dead center of the room is a metal bench. Is that where they're going to put me?

“Undress,” she snaps at me, untying my wrists.

I fumble with my jacket – I'm so nervous I can barely grab the zipper. I keep glancing around – there are people moving about there business up and down the hallway. Do I really have to get naked out here? The nurse grows impatient, and grabs me by the scruff of the neck.

“Hurry up!” she snarls at me.

Terrified, I undress as fast as I can, dropping the dress and tearing off my underwear. As soon as I'm done she ties me up again and forces me to sit down on the bench.

“Wait here, it'll probably be a while,” the nurse says, disappearing out the door, propping it open behind her.

This might be the scariest time of my whole life. What if someone sees me as they pass by the open door?

Minutes tick by by. I glance over at the clock on the wall across from me – its only 3:30! I have a whole half hour of more waiting!

Several girls pass by the doorway and see me. My cheeks turn crimson as they giggle at me.

The hour hand hits four.

Nothing happens.

I start to panic. The sexual pressure is so high I feel like I could die!

To my relief, Dr. Manyard arrives. But to my dismay, the nurse, Sam, and at least a dozen other people follow her into the room. I recognize a few of them... they're students from school!

“How are you doing today, sweetie?” Dr. Manyard asks.

“O-okay I guess,” I respond. My heart jumps into my throat.

“This is Katie, our test subject for the day,” she says to the audience. “She is participating in the program as punishment for an academic infraction.”

My heart skips a beat with excitement as the doctor pushes me down on the table, running her stethoscope over my chest.

“How aroused are you?” she asks.

“Um... seven,” I say, already short of breath.

The doctor steps behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders. The nurse puts sensor pads from the monitor machine on my chest.

“Katie here is probably our most submissive subject, and is extremely easy to sexually pleasure,” Dr. Manyard explains to her students. “I could in fact, in her current state of arousal, I could induce an orgasm in under a minute.”

To demonstrate, she takes one of my nipples in between her gloved fingers and massages my clit. I don't want to look like a whore in front of everyone, but within seconds I'm moaning loudly.

“Take a look at the machine everyone,” the doctor says, releasing me to gesture towards the monitor machine. “We can see all of her vitals, how aroused she is, how much stimulation she is receiving, and approximately how close she is to an orgasm.”

“Isn't it difficult to get a subject sexually aroused in a lab like this?” one of the male students asks. “And what about individual morals?”

“That's a good question,” the doctor answers. “In Katie's case, she had a conservative upbringing and one would think would be difficult to work with. However, whether she wants to or not, she enjoys being sexually dominated, and will submit to anyone – male or female.”

Several students giggle. I try to look as stoic as possible.

“Katie is very easy to sexually stimulate, and actually experienced an orgasm too quickly in her first session a couple days ago,” Dr. Manyard continues. “This morning she asked to have her next session early because she was too aroused to wait any longer.”

Everyone looks at me with a mix of amazement, amusement... and contempt.

“Today we are going to explore Katie's ability to have multiple orgasms,” the doctor says. “For the test to be successful, we need to induce at least three separate climaxes.”

Jesus.

“Now who would like to try her out?”

A female with her dark hair in a tight bun and her face framed in large bottlecap glasses volunteers. The doctor hands her a pair of rubber gloves and a sealed bag with a... is that a vibrator? Oh God, it is.

“Try to stimulate her, and watch the readings on the machine. But most importantly, pay close attention to her reaction to you.”

The girl eases me down on the bench and parts my legs. I gasp as she gently skates her hands across my body, squeezing my breasts and pinching my nipples. I giggle with delight as her fingers run down my tummy and dip into my belly button. I squirm as she tickles my inner thighs. I desperately want her to touch my pussy, but she just teasingly skates around the building dampness.

The girl's fingers suddenly rub over my clit and dive in between my soaked lips.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!” I squeal.

The girl lets out a gasp of surprise as my orgasm gushes out over her fingers.

“First orgasm achieved at four minutes, six seconds,” the nurse says.

My sexual relief is only momentary, as the girl quickly gets me worked up again. She takes her hand, still dripping from the sloppy mess of my first orgasm, and puts it in my mouth. I'm forced to taste my own cum. I recoil at first, but after a moment of hesitation, I'm lapping up every last drop from her fingertips. I'm draped across the bench, completely obedient to her every touch.

The girl's face is just inches away from mine. She's not particularly pretty, but her power over me is impossible for me to resist. I want her to do whatever she pleases to me. I want her to publicly degrade me, use me, and humiliate me. Her lips get closer to mine. I can feel her breath on my face. I want her to kiss me.

A buzz fills my ears as the vibrator turns on and I feel it enter me.

I scream in pleasure.

“Second orgasm achieved at six minutes, fifteen seconds,” the nurse says.

The girl is showing me no mercy now. She pushes the vibrator deeper and deeper into my pussy.

“Fuck me, please... fuck me!” I beg.

She laughs at me and pushes harder.

I orgasm again.

“Third orgasm achieved at eight minutes, fifty-seven seconds,” the nurse says.

If the nurse wasn't counting, I would lose count of how many times the girl is making me come.

The girl kisses me. I feel her tongue push mine aside. She bites my lip aggressively before trailing tender bites down my throat. The girl takes my swollen nipple in her mouth and rolls her tongue over it, nibbling and sucking, making me gasp uncontrollably.

“Oh my God... Oh my God! Oh... my... God!!!!”

“Sixth orgasm achieved at twenty-four minutes, thirty-two seconds.”

I don't know how it is even possible for me to come this many times, but I am.

The vibrator pulls out, completely drenched by my impossible number of orgasms. What else could she possibly do to me?

I feel her head move in between my legs. Her tongue enters me. My moans are so loud they're echoing off the walls.

A few licks is all it takes.

“OhohGodohGodohGodohGodoh-Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!”

The whole room is silent. One could hear a pin drop.

“Tenth orgasm achieved at forty-seven minutes, ten seconds,” the nurse says.

Everyone breaks into enthusiastic applause.

“That was... unconventional, but quite a show nonetheless,” Dr. Manyard says.

Maybe... just maybe... getting caught cheating wasn't so bad after all.