tagMind ControlNew Years Resolution

New Years Resolution

bya_mystery©

I don't know why I'm writing this story. It sort of seems pointless as I doubt anyone will read it, or if they do, its doubtful they'll believe it. The strange thing is, that even though I'm going to tell you things that sound awful, and I'll admit that if I told this would happen a year ago I would be horrified. I just am not that upset about them anymore. Its probably a mark of how conditioned I've become. Regardless, I'm not going to attach my name to this as in a week none of that will matter. But then I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm not a writer so forgive me if this seems rough around the edges.

I remember it being a Monday when this whole thing started. The first Monday after New Years. Like so many years in the past, THIS year, I was going to get to the gym. I had Christmas with my family like I always did. My sister came with her handsome husband. She has two children and looks like she just stepped out of a Victoria secrete magazine. I love her to death and she's so sweet. I don't know if she's ever said a mean word to me. I know that she works for that body of hers and that SHE hits the gym like every day. But I still couldn't help but hate her for it. I was only 22 and she was 27 and I had "time" but I had hardly had what anyone would call a boyfriend up to this point.

I blame my mom. Like my sister, she has always stayed in shape. She was Miss Washington, something she never lets me forget. And really, I think she believes her badgering me about my weight was really something that would help me in life. She got everything she wanted though her looks; my dad and his money included. The fucked up thing is, I don't the she really loves him. She just seems so bland and indifferent. Maybe that's why I didn't make the effort to stay in shape or to really take care of myself; I didn't want any part of the life she made for herself. Sure I had an extra 20-30 lbs but at least I wasn't her. Or that could just be an excuse.

Either way, there I was on the first Monday after New Years, signing up for a new gym that had just opened. The girl signing me up looked like her other job was as a stripper. Super tight body, obviously peeking out from under her shirt and her shorts. When she stood me in front of the full length mirror and asked me what about my body I didn't like, it was almost too much humiliation to take. I remember feeling on the verge of tears. But I pushed them back. THIS year I was going to stick to it! I wanted a boyfriend and then a husband. I had a pretty good job doing marketing for a pro basketball team and was happy with my income, a thing a lot of women my age can't say. But I wanted more.

Now let me straighten something out. I wasn't fat. I was 20....maybe 30 lbs overweight. And for the most part my body was okay. I did have my mother's genes for boobs, so I was lucky that way. I had posted on "Rate My Rack.com" and had first place locked down with my 36DD's for months. Yea, I know, its a bit sleazy, and a bad way to value yourself, but what the hell.

Anyway, I'm sitting there with this girl and she sees the despondency on my face and starts to ask me about it. I don't remember what I said, but I opened up and told her WAY more than I wanted to. I told her how every year I had come, determined I would work out, and every year I stopped after 3 weeks. I was almost sobbing at her desk when I heard the words that will forever be etched in my mind: "I have a secrete." "I had the same problem as you did two years ago, but found a way to fix it."

I stopped and looked up. Her tone of voice had changed, her look on her face had changed, and I realized this wasn't apart of the normal health club rhetoric. "What?..I mean how?" I stammered the words out. She explained that two years ago she had been in the same situation and someone had told her their secrete. There was a doctor she knew that would install a little device for you that monitored your heart rate. If you didn't keep it up over 120 bpm for 20 minutes a day, it would shock you. Hard. Hard enough that you defiantly would want to exercise.

I stat there, probably with my mouth wide open. "You did?" "OMG...did it work?"

"Yea, it worked. I've exercised every day without fail. Well except for one day a week. Its set to give you one day off."

"God, where did you get that done? Is it expensive?" The questions poured from me until she gave me a card. "Dr. Stevens" it read in plane font with a phone number.

"You just call him, and go into his office. You can get it installed on your first appointment. It works, and I got the bulk of it covered by insurance. But I should warn you, he won't take it out for you. It defeats the purpose."

I walked away from her with my new Gym membership, and Dr. Stevens card in my hand. And I KNEW I was going to call him. This was going to substitute for my will power, and would help me get what I wanted. I couldn't wait till I saw my Mom next and I was in better shape than my sister! I was so excited. I could just picture myself telling her to "fuck off" and that I never cared how she felt about my weight.

I called the Doctor, and it was exactly as I expected. A waiting room, two other women similar to me. They called my name and I went in. There was a nurse. She took notes while he asked me questions. He explained that what he did here and asked me to sign a documents and consent forms. I read a good chunk of them. It said right there, in plain black and white that:

"the device is a commitment. I will not remove it, nor should any other doctor make an attempt to remove it without contacting me. It can be turned off if you need surgery or something happens that requires you to be inactive." It also said "we have 100% success rate," which I completely believed.

He explained how he installed it under the skin just below my pelvic bone. It didn't leave a scar, and no one could tell it was there. It charged off the motion of my body and would be there indefinitely. Some installs were out to 12 years now with no problems and no side effects. The shocks weren't dangerous at all and used such a low current that the only reason they were painful was because they were so close to the nerves. They would start softly as a reminder and build over the next hour. For a whole hour after the warnings, very strong shocks would be delivered causing strong pain and contractions. Once the heart rate went up over 120, they would stop.

I know now that I was crazy for saying yes, but it seemed simple enough. He demonstrated the shocks with a little device. The warnings made me tingle. The other shocks made me yell out the first time. I was defiantly going to be working out. And that's why I said yes. It was a way of assuring that I'd get everything I wanted. I signed the paperwork.

They put me out, and I woke up probably an hour later in the recovery room. I went home. They told me I had one week to do whatever I wanted, and then it would be over. The device would turn on and my schedule would be set.

The week FLEW by. I actually even went to the gym the first two days, thinking I would test to see how hard it was to get my pulse up that high. Was harder than I thought to get it up there and keep it there for 20 minutes. True to my nature, after the 2nd day I didn't go. On day three I noticed something different. In the middle of the night I woke up and my pussy was tingling. I was soaking wet already and it was easy to move my fingers to my pussy and finger while rubbing my clit. I exploded in an orgasm right away cumming so hard that the contractions were almost painful. I fell right back asleep so quickly it was almost like a dream.

Day four the same thing happened again. I awoke to a tingeing wet pussy that was just dying to be touched. This time it took me two orgasms before I could stop feeling horny and each set of contractions seemed more intense than the others. I woke up remembering the orgasms in the night and it made me horny right away. I came again before leaving for work. Twice. 3 orgasms a week were pretty standard for me, so 5 in a 48 hour period was pretty intense.

That day at work I found I was horny again. My pussy wet and tingeing in the middle of the day. So much so it was distracting. For the first time I made my way to the bathroom, locked the door, and much to my surprise spent the next 15 minutes cumming 3 total times. I was shocked actually that I had done that. I liked the limited sexual experience that I had, but didn't really think of myself as a horn dog. Now I was concerned that the device I just had installed maybe had something to do with all of this. Maybe it was some sort of side effect?

I called. Got the nurse and explained to her what had happened. I left out a few of the details. I didn't want her to know that I had cum at work, so I just told her that I was feeling "Extra aroused" and wondered if that was something the device caused. I was shocked when she asked me point blank, "Did you cum?" "Well, I....um....yes I did." I answered. Then added "Once." The nurse put me on hold.

When the doctor came on the line he sounded relaxed and composed. He asked me again how many times I had felt the arousal and how many times I had cum. I lied again. "I was turned on a couple of times but I just came once." The doctor replied, "According to our data you came 5 times over the last few days." "Is our data wrong?" I was shocked. "You can tell that?"

The doctor replied, "Why yes, it was all in the paper work. We monitor a number of functions and store the data for our research." I didn't know what to say exactly but "Oh." He continued:

"the device works by charging itself as you move. Sexual excitement tends to charge it more than most activities since its near your pelvis. The tingeing your feeling is the device discharging when it becomes too charged. Normally its so little that you can't feel it. We'll turn it down a bit from here. It won't be as strong when it discharges, but it will happen more often. Let me know how this works."

I was shocked. I said "Okay," and sort of just, hung up the phone. I knew the device wasn't going to be removed, but I didn't know if I was prepared for this. Dr. Stevens would know every time I came. What else would he know? Will it being less strong and more often bother me more? The answer came a few short minutes after. I could feel it "discharging" again. It defiantly was less intense but still made me feel horny. I resisted touching it this time as I knew that, from what the doctor said, it would only make it worse.

The next few days were hard. I came every day but was able to keep from cumming at work at least. The arousal made me bring an extra pair of panties to work during the day to change. At least I had Saturday and Sunday off. I came 5 or six times each day on the weekend. I lost track really, and while I wasn't at work I actually kind of enjoyed it. Yes, it terrified me but at the same time orgasms aren't really a bad way to spend a day. I had heard other girls did this, but its just not something I was every horny enough to do. Maybe I'd learn to be able to deal with it better at work.

Monday was my first workout day. Work actually passed without much incident. Yes, I could feeling the humming on my pussy and was even tempted enough to rub my clit a little, but I stopped myself. I kept focus I knew that it would start shocking me at 11:00 PM to give me a warning, so I planned to work out at 7:00. Plenty of time. I busted my ass. For the first time at the gym I could say that I really gave it my all. My heart rate was up WAY over 120 for like 30 minutes. I was wiped out. I figured I'd wait up till 12:00 and see what happened. Would I get shocked? But I fell asleep on the couch way before that and slept soundly.

The next day at work was actually great. I had slept really well and I had gotten a ton done. I noticed a little tingling but nothing that drove me to distraction too badly. I went home, masturbated three times, then went to the gym. I worked out came home again and ate, falling asleep this time in bed. This was great! I felt like for the first time I would do the same thing tomorrow and I had confidence in myself.

I woke up early, at about 5:00 to the tingeing in my pussy. I came 4 times ...and couldn't believe it when my when my alarm broke me out of it in the middle of the 4th one at 7:00. Had I really spent two hours masturbating before work?

Again work went amazingly well; though I was glad I was now bringing an extra changes of panties. I defiantly was soaked as the tingeing came on a regular basis during the day. When the crew from work wanted to go out for drinks after, I was thrilled. It was Wednesday but it seemed like a good thing to do and I felt confident in myself with my new schedule.

Maybe my new found confidence spurred it, or it could have been my arousal and my wet panties, but I even caught myself flirting with Dave, one of my co workers. Like REALLY flirting with him. First thing I knew we were chatting, then I was teasing him about wake-up wood for some reason I can't remember. He bought me another drink and I was totally shocked when my pussy had a little pulse of pain. I looked up at the clock and saw it was 11:10. OMG I had to go work out.

I made an excuse for Dave telling him it just got too late for me and that I HAD to work out. He was disappointed but understood. I left the bar with only one more shock hitting. I was so surprised as each grew stronger that I started yelping a little bit. I got dressed and headed to the gym which turned out to be a HUGE mistake. There was construction on the path I normally took and it wasn't until almost 12:00 that I arrived. The pain from the last shock was so bad I thought I'd crash. And these were just the warnings?

Luckily I made it onto the treadmill with out further obstruction and ran like my life depended on it. I actually got one of the "real" shocks right at 12:00 before my heart rate had gotten up. I yelped loudly trying to stay on the tread mill. A trainer came over and asked what was wrong. I didn't break stride on the tread mill as I explained, gasping, that I just pinched myself on the machine. When he asked where, I just ignored him and kept running. I ran until I knew I was safe...12:30 and hopped off the machine. Again the guy came over telling me he was concerned. I told him it was fine, found a spot in the machine where it might of "pinched" and pointed it out to him.

I headed home, sweating horny and not the least bit tired. I came like a freight train, using a dildo that had been gathering dust since a friends bachelor-ette party. I had never really thought about using it much, but now I felt like I needed something inside me. A good fucking. I had defiantly been thinking about having Dave's cock inside me tonight. A loud "fuuuuck" came from my lips as I came hard around the dildo for the 4th time.

Even so I was still a bit bummed. I sat there breathing hard, and thought "if I hadn't had to work out I would of ended up fucking Dave instead...and that would have been way more satisfying then a pink hunk of plastic." Wait..what was I thinking?! I really was going to take him home and fuck him wasn't I? I didn't want to be an easy lay, I wanted to be someone a guy would WORK for right?

It wasn't until 2 am that I finally got to sleep. 5 am and I was awake again, dildo in hand chalking up another set of 5 orgasm before I was off to work two hours later. Was this going to become a regular thing? For some reason it felt like the tingling was much stronger this morning.

My Thursday at work, day 5 confirmed it. I could feel my pussy pulsing all day. I should have brought three sets of panties at least. In the afternoon, with both sets of panties already soaked, I tried locking the door in the bathroom again and using a highlighter to fuck myself. I came three times, but the highlighter felt way to small and not satisfying at all. I really felt I needed to cum more, and I wasn't getting anything done at work. Gah! Even thinking about it now is frustrating!

To make it worse, Dave stopped by my cubical. He smiled, said hi, and wanted to know if I was feeling alright. I explained to him that I really had a nice time hanging out with him but I REALLY am dedicated to being on a workout schedule. New years resolution and all that. He was very sweet actually and said he understood. Even said he was worried about flirting too much with me.

"I'm the one who kept talking about your cock." I gasped inside. Did I really just say that out loud? At work? He looked a little surprised, but my head was so floaty, I just gave him a devious little smile. He responded, in a hushed tone, "well maybe we can talk more about your pussy next time." That sent a little jolt through me of pleasure, feeling like it almost made me cum. My mind immediately went to the bathroom with the locked door, and Dave's cock pounding me from behind. My hands on the counter as my dress was tossed up over my hips, wet panties around my ankles.

When I looked up at Dave's nervous face I realized to my horror that my hand was at my crotch through my dress. I pulled my hand away, and blushed. "I....I um...I have to get some stuff done." I stammered out, turning my back on him. "Okay," came his nervous reply. "Then I guess I'll see you around." After Dave left my pussy was still pulsing relentlessly and I had to stop myself from rubbing through my dress several times.

15 minutes later I went home sick from work. I was crossing my legs and squeezing my pussy, and could feel the orgasm building, right there in my cubical. I had to stop myself. I had to go home.

I came in the car on the way home three times. I got into my apartment found the dildo, ripped off my clothes and laid over the bed while pounding my pussy with it for got knows how long and for how many orgasms. I lost count. Sleep finally took me, and I didn't wake up till it was nearly 8:00.

I couldn't believe what had happened. It was like a bad dream, watching some slutty girl take over my life and ruin my job and my relationships. I called the doctors office. It was late so I didn't expect to get a person, but I also didn't expect to get a "this number has been disconnected, or is no longer in service" message. I hung up the phone a little panicked. I dialed again. Same message.

"Oh fuck" is all I could think over and over. I was scared, naked, I hadn't eaten or showered, was covered in my own cum, and I had no idea what I was going to do. I tried to take a moment and think my way through everything. I went over the girl recommending me at the gym, the office visit, the nurse, Dr. Stevens, everything I could remember. I pulled out my paperwork and read it all over. The language was actually quite vague. It looked like it was written by an attorney, and seemed to be full of caution but it didn't really say anything. Maybe I was just being paranoid, and there was some problem with the phone line. But what was I going to do?? There on the last page though I saw something that gave me some hope. A website! Http://askdrstevens.com

I hopped on my computer and looked it up. The moment it loaded on my computer my pussy started to hum again almost like they were connected. I fought off the temptation to break down and rub my pussy on the spot, ignoring the sensation the best I could. The page loaded, and my heart truly sank. This was a nightmare.

The page was as plain as you could get.

--Snip-- "The Rules:"

Week One: No shocks will be administered to begin the workouts. You'll begin to feel the physical effects leading to arousal and experience increasing wetness. Each orgasm will increase the intensity of the arousal. Orgasm begin on a daily basis for most participants.

Week Two: The shocks to prompt working out will begin. 120 bmp required. One day a week workouts will not be required. The arousal stimulation will increase. Each additional orgasm will cause more arousal and stimulation. Insertion of objects into the vagina will double the amount of arousal caused at the next period of stimulation. The subject will be stimulated randomly while waking, but will begin to be woken at 5:00 a.m. to start the new schedule. Orgasm move to 3-5 times daily.

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bya_mystery© 9 comments/ 48104 views/ 19 favorites

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