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Freshman year was tough. Everyone had warned Chrissy that it would be, buttruthfully she had no idea how hard it would actually turn out to be.
Throughout high school she had been able to cruise through her class workvirtually stress-free, graduating with a solid, slightly above the majorityof her class grade point average. She would never admit it aloud, but deepinside she knew that her reputation as an All-American girl probably had givenher the benefit of the doubt with her teachers more than once…not tomention her classic good looks.
But college was a whole different challenge. Just six weeks into her freshmanyear she had already studied more than she had during her entire high schoolexperience. Her social life was non-existent. Instead of hitting the bars offcampus on Thursday nights, she was in the library desperately trying to keepher head above water. If she was going to make it out of her first semesteralive, she was going to need help. But her five professors all appeared tocare less about her struggles…and the two male Profs were seemed imperviousto even the most forward flirtations.
Then, as the fall break approached, an announcement was made that seemedto offer a glimpse of hope; even it was only in one class.
"Ladies and gentleman," her Sociology 110 professor announced in a monotone,not even bothering to look up from his notebook at the front of the auditorium. "Anystudents wishing to receive extra credit toward their final exam grade maysign up to participate in a sociology study being conducted by my teachingassistants and graduate degree students, Mister Jackson and Miss Poe, as theywork toward their advanced degrees. Participation will be worth a ten-pointaddition to your final grade. See the TA's after class if you are interested.We only need two students, first come first serve."
Chrissy sat straight up, her dark brown ponytail bobbing as she did. "Tenpoints!" She thought to herself. "That's a full letter grade!"
When class was dismissed, the student all but long jumped her way to theend of the aisle. She was second in line behind another freshman girl, a cuteredhead that usually sat one row in front of Chrissy during class.
"Congratulations," the male grad student said as he approached the eager18-year olds with two standard legal forms snapped to a clipboard. He was atypical professor wannabe, conservatively dressed with short dark hair andglasses. "I just need you ladies to print your name, age, student ID number,and sign on the bottom two lines."
"Student ID number?" the redhead asked.
"Yes," the female TA spoke up with a soft smile from behind her black-rimmedglasses. Miss Poe always sat at a small desk next to the lectern during classand was gathering her papers into a leather attaché case. Beneath hermid-30's nerdy exterior one got the feeling that she could be much prettierif she ever bothered to try. "It's just your social security number, like howyou signed in on the first day of class. We want to make sure the ten bonuspoints go to the correct students, right?"
The redhead filled out the top line and handed the clipboard over to Chrissy.With a quick glance, Chrissy saw that her name was Pam. "Thanks."
As he took the clipboard back, Mr. Jackson explained that the girls wouldbe participating in an image and word association experiment. The idea wasto see what effect – if any – the images and sounds from all formsof media actually have on the people exposed to them. Both freshmen would needto come to the graduate student lab just two doors down from the classroomat 5 pm sharp one day per week for the next four weeks. "Pam, why don't youcome on Tuesdays, starting tomorrow, and Chrissy you stop by on Wednesdays.Don't worry. We should have you in and out of here in about an hour each time."
The look and smirk shared between the two graduate students were so slyand so quick they were barely perceptible…and totally missed by thegirls.
The next two days were more of the same for Chrissy – class, study,eat, sleep. Her life had become so cyclical that she found herself actuallylooking forward to the sociology study. At least it was something differentto do. She had hoped to ask Pam how her first visit to the lab had gone whenthey saw each other in class on Wednesday morning, but the redhead hadn't shownup. Chrissy figured she must have gone out the night before and decided tocash in one of her three absences.
At 4:58 pm Chrissy knocked on the door of the grad student office, freshfrom her aerobics class at the student center gym. Despite her brutal schedule,she never missed her exercise class and was still a little sweaty beneath herworkout clothes - a short-sleeved university t-shirt, gray Russell runningshorts, and a hooded sweatshirt rolled up and tied around her waist by thesleeves. She had always prided herself on looking "put together" and so shehad stopped in the hallway bathroom just long enough to put on a little powder,mascara, and lip gloss. As she walked down the hallway, she was surprised athow empty the science building was. Wow, she thought to herself, these professorssure bolt out of her in a hurry when classes are over.
"Come on in, Chrissy," Mr. Jackson called out from inside the small office.When she walked in, the student saw the two TA's sitting side by side, discussingsomething on the computer screen in front of them. When they saw her, theyquickly clicked the window closed.
"Have a seat," Miss Poe said as she stood and offered her chair. "Thanksso much for agreeing to help us."
"No problem," the female grad student always helped Chrissy relax with hersoft eyes and calming speech. "So, how exactly am I going to help?"
Poe wore a white lab coat, which Chrissy briefly thought odd for a sociologystudent, and leaned back onto the desk behind her. "We as Americans are bombardedeach and every day with thousands of images, sounds and words everywhere wego. TV, radio, the Internet, newspapers, movies, everything. As you know, therehas always been a debate over what kind of damage this rapid-fire imagery isactually doing to our minds. Parents claim it causes their kids to suffer fromattention deficit disorder. People blame the Columbine tragedy on TheMatrix . Ted Bundy said he thought nothing of women because hismind was altered by exposure to pornography."
"So," Mr. Jackson spoke up now. "We are going to flash images and soundsto you, all taken from American pop culture. Some will be pleasant, some notso pleasant. And we want to monitor your reaction to those things that we exposeyou to."
"Oh okay," Chrissy paused, choosing her words carefully before speakingfor fear of blowing her chance at the ten bonus points. "Um, how unpleasant?"
"Nothing anymore violent or sexual than you might see on HBO every night," heexplained as he pulled some wiring from a drawer. "Now if you will come withus, we'll get started and get you out of here before rush hour at the dininghall."
They walked across the hallway and into a very small room, not much biggerthan a typical walk-in closet. In the center of the room was a old leatherrecliner, patched together in places with what appeared to be vinyl tape. Onthe wall was mounted a fairly large television screen, maybe 40 inches across,and only a few feet from the foot of the recliner, cramped by the quartersof the tiny space.
"This is our video screening room," Miss Poe explained. "You get comfortablein the chair and I will start turning things on in here."
She clicked on the television, upon which a standard set of color bars wasshown with the words "SOC. DEPT" typed across the black car than ran throughthe center of screen. Once Chrissy was settled in, Mr. Jackson explained thenext step.
"We have some standard electrode patches here, like you would find connectedto any hospital EKG. I am going to put six of these on some of your pulse point- two on either side of your neck, one on each bicep, and one on each of yourthighs. They stick to your skin directly with a little foam tape, and theywon't hurt when we remove them. Would you mind rolling up your t-shirt sleevesfor me? Thanks."
The dabs of prep gel and each electrode patch were cold as first touch,but soon warmed on Chrissy's skin. Mr. Jackson politely asked his female partnerto position the pads on the insides of the freshman's thighs, just slightlybelow the hem of her cotton running shorts, citing how inappropriate it wouldbe for him to do so. He attached tiny white wires to each of the six patchesand then excused himself from the room, explaining that he would be controllingthe video playback from a computer across the hall in the lab office.
"Two more things, Chrissy, and we will be finished. I am going to put theseearpieces in for you. We used to play the audio directly from the televisionspeakers, but we got too many complaints from other professors and TA's onthe hall about the noise."
"Is that why all of that foam is on the walls?"
"Exactly, that's soundproofing material. Just like you would see in a recordingstudio. Once I shut the door, you can't hear a thing outside in the hallway,but we started using the earphones anyway just to make the University administrationhappy."
The plastic pieces slid into the brunette's ear canals, made easy by thefact that her hair was up in its practically permanent ponytail. Miss Poe pulleda tiny headset from her lab coat pocket and slipped it onto her head, remindingChrissy of the microphone she wore while working the drive thru at McDonald'stwo summers ago. With a click, she could hear the grad student speak to her.
"Can you hear me okay? Good. Alright, last step. A lot of movement has atendency to alter our readings from the EKG monitor, so I am going to immobilizeyou just a bit."
Immobilize? Chrissy was already a little nervous, but now she was just confused.
"It's nothing, just a couple of straps over your forearm so they sit flushto the arms of the chair. This is an old machine that was donated from thelocal hospital and even the slightest movements alter our chart readings." Witha tug, what Chrissy thought was tape holding an old chair together was actuallyrevealed as nylon straps that now pulled her forearms down hard into the fakeleather.
"Wait, Miss Poe…"
Similar strips were produced and strapped around her ankles, just abovethe tops of her Reebok running shoes. Next came what looked like an airplaneseat belt, a click and another tug pulled on her hips and forced her lowerback into the crease between the back and seat sections of the chair. As thegirl visibly began to panic, the grad student stood and looked her directlyin the eyes.
Click… "Chrissy, trust me. This is just a precaution to ensure thatour study goes off without a hitch. Mr. Jackson and I have been working onthis research for two years now and we really do appreciate you helping usout. Okay?"
She smiled that warm, reassuring smile again, and Chrissy relaxed, thoughstill a bit nervous. "Okay," she replied with a shaky sigh of relief.
"Alright then. I'm heading across the hall. Have fun, alright? We'll bedone in no time."
With that, the TA turned and left, flicking off the light switch and shuttingthe door behind her. Now Chrissy sat alone in the tiny room, her face lit bythe color bars coming from the television screen, unable to hear a thing andable only squirm in the chair.
Click… "Okay, Chrissy." It was the voice of Mr. Jackson. "We're goingto start now. Just relax and react naturally to what you see. The computerwill show us how the visuals affect your heart rate and body temperature. Wecan also see you by way of a video camera mounted in the wall above the TV.If you start to get claustrophobic or just need a break, wave your left hand.Can you do that for me? Good, we can see it. I know it's tough with the straps.Thanks again for doing this."
The color bars disappeared. For a brief second, the screen was black andthe room was totally dark, but then a picture popped up. It was the beginningof a montage of news footage. First a story about the economy from CNN, thena report on the Laci Peterson murder trial from ABC News. The audio was beingpumped directly into her ears via the headphones.
Next was a series of television commercials – one for Pepsi, thenone for Viagra. The third ad was for Wal-Mart. Now totally relaxed, Chrissybegan to wonder to herself what was so unusual about this. It looked like normalchannel surfing to her.
That's when the then visions began to change.
First was a provocative Victoria's Secret spot. Strong, beautiful women strodeacross the screen to the boldface question "What is sexy?" She had seen thead a million times before, but the pulsing techno beat in her earpieces gavethe visuals a new, more sensual feeling.
Little did the freshman know that she had begun a climb through what wasa very carefully selected series of television excerpts, each designed to bemore sexually provocative than the next. A ramping up of her mind…andmore importantly, her body. Across the hall, the two grad students smiled asthey watched the digital readouts in front of them begin a slow, ragged climbupward.
The Victoria's Secret ad gave way to a passionate scene from a daytime soapopera. That led to an even more explicit vision, this time from what lookedto be a run-of-the-mill late night Cinemax movie. Chrissy was surprised ather reaction. She had never been one to shy from a sexy late night cable movie,but this was different. Perhaps it was from the moans of pleasure and slowbeat music being fed in surround sound stereo directly into her ears.
Next was a clip straight from pay-per-view porn. A busty blonde was strokingand licking a tremendously large cock…the slurps and moans getting louderand louder.
"I…I…think I need a break," Chrissy called out into the room,eyes fixed on the blow job before her. The request disappeared into the soundproofingwithout as much as an "I" reaching the outside.
She had always scolded her friends for renting and watching porn with theirboyfriends, but now her body was betraying her moral conscious. She could feelherself becoming wet, but her instinctive wish to close her legs and hide thatfact were done in by her ankle bonds.
The blonde slut on the screen bobbed up and down faster and faster, thenpulled back her head and stroked the cock furiously. What seemed to be a gallonof white cum exploded onto her face, coating her blue mascara eyes and paintedcherry red lips…
In that instant, the color bars popped back onto the screen and the lightin the room came on. Standing before her were the two grad students, both withgiant smiles on their faces. As Miss Poe reached for the button on her headset,Mr. Jackson went about checking the EKG patches and their wire connections.
Click… "Very good, Chrissy. You really seemed to be enjoying yourselfthere. I don't blame you. I picked out those scenes and edited them togethermyself. Sometimes being a sociology student has its benefits. Would you likesome water?"
Still tense from being shocked out of her sexual trance, Chrissy nodded,oblivious to the man placing his fingers on the electrodes taped to her limbs.His shyness about the subject's privacy now apparently gone, he replaced thewhite wires that were attached to the patches on her inner thighs with equallythin red cables. He smiled slightly when he noticed the small wet spot in thecenter of her gym shorts.
Poe opened a bottle of water and held it up to the freshman's lips. Shealso brushed away the few strands of Chrissy's bangs that had begun to stickto her forehead with sweat.
Click… "It looks like your sensors are all still good and in place.We are getting some great data in the other room."
"How…long…has it been since we started?" The teenager wascompletely out of breath, certain the hour was nearly up.
Click… "About fifteen minutes. Only 45 to go!" And with that, thepair was gone and the student was alone in the dark once again.
Again, the screen flicked alive with pornography. A woman's face was inthe center of the screen, hair teased out and face totally made up. In fromeach side of the screen bobbed two hard cocks. The woman reached out with eachhand and began to stroke each member furiously. The camera stayed fixed onher face as her eyes darted back and forth from dick to dick.
Meanwhile, a sultry female's voice joined the sounds of duel hand jobs inChrissy's headphones.
"You love the thought of two cocks in your face, don't you? The wish thattwo loads of cum would end up all over you…all over your face, yourtits, your tongue. You really are a slut, aren't you?"
Chrissy knew it wasn't possible, but it was as if the voice in her earswas speaking directly to her. She felt her face grow flush when she realizedthat she had begun to nod "yes" to the woman's question.
The woman on the screen kept pumping away, and soon she had her head tiltedback and mouth wide open, waiting on the two anonymous men to burst.
Totally entranced by the vision in front of her, Chrissy began to feel warmthbeneath her bottom. She looked down, pushing her bottom back into the seatto try and detect the source of the sensation. The realization made her panic.The seat was vibrating beneath her.
Click…it was Miss Poe. "Chrissy, your heart rate just jumped tremendously.Is everything okay?" Then, just as the grad student's transmission clickedoff, the freshman thought she heard something that worried her – laughter.
When she looked back up from her soaking and vibrating crotch, the womanon the television screen was covered in cum, licking it from her lips and staringdirectly into the camera lens and straight into the bound student's eyes.
"Stop fighting it, Chrissy. Go on and cum if you want to."
This was too much, too personal. The teenager began to break down, thrashingagainst her bonds and screaming to be freed. The cum-soaked woman on the TVscreen just kept smiling at her and saying her name. The sounds of sex weremixed in over the woman's voice, becoming louder and louder in her ears. Thevibrating pad beneath her continued to hum away, the lap belt keeping her assheld firmly onto the oscillating seat cushion. She clinched her fists and squeezedher eyes tightly shut to keep from looking at the television, but there wasnothing she could do about the sound…or the rhythm under her bottom,the leather seat now soaked with sweat and her own juices.
Meanwhile, a group of professors stood directly outside the door of theroom in which she was held. They idly chatted about lesson plans, golf, andthe weather, totally oblivious to the fact that a sexually tortured young girlwas strapped to a recliner just a few feet away. The soundproofing had beenworth every penny the grad students' grant money had paid.
Click…It was Poe again. "Okay, Chrissy, dear. It's time to stop fightingthis."
On their television monitor in the lab, they could see the girl had shuther eyes in defiance and was shaking her head back and forth, crying "No! No!"
The female grad student was a little irritated by the girl's reaction. Herresearch had predicted that a young girl of relatively no sexual experienceshould have given in by now. Then again, that's why they had devised what sheand her lab partner had coldly labeled "Stage 2: Coercion." Without lookingaway from the video feed on her monitor, Miss Poe pointed to her fellow TA, "Ithink Miss Chrissy needs a little encouragement to cooperate."
Without as much as a smile, Jackson rapped a series of keys on his computer.His right hand on the mouse, he right clicked. In an instant, the EKG monitorwent off the chart.
For a second, Chrissy had thought that she could beat this. Perhaps, shethought, she could hold off these overwhelming sexual urges long enough todiscourage the sick bastards in the other room and force them to let her go.
That's when the shock came.
The jolt of electricity had traveled through her body like a camera flash.It forced her eyes open, her body taut, and her mouth to drop wide open ina gasp for air. At first, it hadn't seemed real, but actual reality was reinforcedby the second wave of shocking sensations.
By the third jolt, the nearly broken coed had realized that the sensationwas entering her from inside her thighs. The red wires that had replaced thewhites on the electrodes beneath her the hem of her shorts weren't EKG monitorsat all. They were conductors of electricity. The horror of that fact causeda tiny tear to well up in the corner of her left eye. She looked upward tothe camera on the wall.
Click…Poe spoke. "I see you have been introduced to our encouragementtechniques. Listen, Chris, we can tell that you are enjoying this. The scientificdata does not lie. Your body temperature, your heart rate, your eyes, theyall show us that you are teetering on the brink of an orgasm. Not to mentionthe wet spot we noticed between those beautiful thighs of yours. As much timeas you have been spending in the library, I doubt you have had one in a while,no?"
Her breathing ragged and her chest heaving up and down, the freshman labrat dropped her eyes at the words from across the hallway. Now the voice inher ear that had once provided so much comfort was now much more hardened anddirect.
"Now we will let you out of here only after you cum. Whether it takes youfive minutes or five days. And just so you know that you aren't alone in likingthis kind of treatment, check out your television monitor."
Chrissy raised her head, gasping at what she saw.
The image was grainy, but there was no question as to what – or who – itwas. It was video of the very room and the very chair that she was now strappedto. Only the girl bound to the recliner wasn't herself. It was Pam. Her tinyarms were bound to the arms of the chair just as Chrissy's now were, but therest of her bondage was much more elaborate. A wide black collar was aroundher neck and appeared to be attached to the headrest of the chair, keepingher head from thrashing about. Her long red hair was tied in a topknot ponytail,standing nearly straight up to make room for a criss-crossing of black leatherstraps that harnessed her face, culminating in a round red ring gag that heldher mouth wide open. The girl's eyes were wide, wildly darting back and forthfrom behind the harness gag.
Click… "This was last night. Your friend here resisted for nearlysix hours. So, we had to take her to another level in order to thoroughly completeour research."
As Chrissy continued to study the form before her, she realized that thegirl's t-shirt had been ripped open down the middle, exposing her handful-sizedbreasts. White electrode patches circled each exposed nipple, with more downthe center of her chest and along her belly.
Pam's legs were not bound like Chrissy's had been, instead they were pulledup and draped over the arms of the leather recliner. Straps around her kneesand ankles kept her legs bent and, as Chrissy noticed with horror, her middlecompletely exposed. The redhead's shorts had been cut away, but her pink cottonpanties were left on. The material was thin and failed to cover the semicirclesof more white patches, electrodes that had clearly been adhered to the lipsof her sex. Wires ran from beneath her underwear to places unseen on the television.They were all red, not white.
Click… "You see, Chrissy, there is no need for us to go here withyou, is there?"
As if on cue, the bound girl on the video screen began to moan loudly asher body rose up against her bonds and she began to shake. The moans becomestuttered and guttural, almost animal, as the ring gag kept poor Pam's mouthpried open. A long strand of drool began to run down from her lower lip andonto her exposed chest.
Chrissy frozen posture and widened eyes showed a girl who was terrifiedfor her life. But the data streaming across the lab computer screen told adifferent story.
"Look at her heart rate!" Jackson said to Poe. "She's getting close, butI think she's about to plateau again. Should we go back to the stock footagethat you pulled?"
"No," his lab partner said firmly, finger hovering over the button on hermicrophone. "Keep rolling the footage of Pam."
What Chrissy saw next both horrified her and showed her where she was inevitablyheaded. Pam's entire body was flush and sweat was rolling from between herexposed tits and down her belly line to her wired, pantied crotch. She tensedup, obviously reacting to a mild electrical shock…then tensed again…andagain.
Now every time the girl on the television screen jerked in reaction, Chrissydid as well. The pulses being sent to her body were in rhythm with the onesthat jolted poor Pam on the videotape. With each convulsion, Chrissy's bottomlifted up off the seat just a little. But when the charge stopped, her tightlittle bum would come to rest on the leather again, hummed to the edge by thevibrations below.
The cycle continued over and over. Shock…hum. Shock…hum. Witheach shock, the sounds of Pam's moans increased in Chrissy's earpiece. Allthe while, the female sadist across the hall repeated what the poor girl onceresisted but now began to believe.
Click… "Let's go, slut. Give in. Your body is betraying you. It tellsthe truth. You love this. Being used. You little freshman slut…"
Shock…hum…moan. Shock…hum…moan. Shock…hum…
Then it happened.
At first, the coed thought that it was just another electrical charge. Butthis time the feeling came not from the insides of her thighs, but higher.The tingling sensation radiated out, washing over her legs and torso. Her fistsclinched and her eyes slammed shut, the noise that escaped her mouth was fromdeep down within her chest. The long, sustained groan was followed by short,rapid breaths and another beastly moan. On the monitors across the hall, everyline and every number suddenly escalated to the highest points on every screenand every chart.
Her tiny body bucked and jerked and shook violently, the straps stretchedbut still holding her fast. Her nipples hardened to the point that they nowshowed clearly through her sports bra and t-shirt, aching to be released. Thewet spot between her thighs had swollen as well, revealed and hidden over andover again as she involuntarily ground herself against the vibrating seat pad.
He head tossed side to side, her ponytail coming undone and sweat pouringfrom her forehead. Mascara was starting to run down her face, tiny dark trailsdripping from her defiantly-clinched eyes.
Finally, her body became nearly rigid and straight, testing the limits ofher bondage. Her mouth opened wide as she tried to breath…and suddenlyher eyes flew open.
With a gasp, her hands came open, all ten fingers pointing straight outand spread. And with a screaming moan, the final release occurred, the seeminglyendless torrents of her orgasm spilling over her body.
Across the hall, it took all that the two graduate students could musternot to stand and cheer or simply give in and cum themselves.
Totally wrecked, Chrissy collapsed back into the chair, her breathing stiltedand broken and her body left to the occasional twitch. Her head cocked to oneside, she opened her eyes to look at the TV screen. There was Pam, still resistingher treatment, despite the addition of what looked like suction devices onher nipples.
My God, Chrissy thought to herself, why won't she just give in?
Click… "There now, Chris. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
The broken girl turned her eyes upward to the camera above, its tiny redlight staring down at her like some twisted evil eye.
"Poor Pam didn't break for another hour yet. We had to resort to some pretty,shall we say, creative means to finally get her there.You are a good girl to go on and cooperate."
As Miss Poe's voice continued on, Chrissy fought to keep her eyes open.How could I be sleepy, she thought. I have to stay awake. They will be in heresoon to let me go and I must report this to the police. But…I…am…sosleepy.
"Keep talking," Jackson said to his research partner as he continued tohold down the left click button on his mouse. "The gas is entering the roomthrough the air conditioning vent. Her vitals are really starting to slow downnow."
Her eyelids almost completely closed now, Chrissy began to give in to hersleepiness. Even the occasional hard breath or spontaneous body jerk were notenough to wake her. As she drifted off to her gas-aided slumber, she heardPoe's voice one more time.
Click… "You get some rest now, girl. You'll need it."
Libbie
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