Renewable Energy and Orgasms Pt. 01

This story has strong non-consensual themes and requires suspension of disbelief. You have been warned.

***

You open your eyes blearily and struggle to think clearly.

Where are you?

What happened?

It comes back to you in flashes -- the library's car park -- a van -- two men in suits -- official-looking badges -- a gag -- a blindfold -- unconsciousness. You shiver as the gravity of your current predicament slowly dawns on you and you look around the room.

You're strapped against a wall through several chains holding your body in an X-shape, arms high and legs wide. You're still wearing your job's uniform; the rough shirt itches painfully against your back and stomach, and the tight skirt rides up your legs due to the awkward position you're held in. (Librarians by all rights shouldn't have a uniform, but you digress.) There's a door on the opposite wall to you, a table next to an adjacent wall, and a ceiling light illuminating the room. Possibly most strange is the machine next to you, loose wires intertwining before raising to loop around your neck, like a collar. You can't tell what it does just by looking at it, but it definitely scares you.

On the wall to your left is a terrifying amount of equipment and your throat dries up in horror as you finally realise why you're here. Sex toys of all kinds -- dildos, vibrators, nipple clamps, ropes and butt plugs -- line the wall, just waiting to be used.

You open your mouth to scream and realise quite suddenly that you can't -- tape binds your mouth, and despite all your efforts, your loudest screams sound like a helpless whimper. You struggle futilely for a few minutes before giving up, panting and slumping back against the chains.

You don't know how long you're left there when the door opens. You gulp as not one, not two, but three tall men walk into the room, eyeing you over maliciously as the last one locks the door behind him.

"We've been very busy looking for you," says a blond man, the bulkiest of the bunch with a rough and gravelly voice. "Such a naughty girl, hiding yourself away like that."

One of the two brunets walks up to you and rips your gag off, and you open your mouth to scream before he holds a knife to your throat. "I think you know better than to do that," he warns softly, patting your head condescendingly. You gulp and nod as best you can, and he puts the knife away.

"I -- I don't understand," you manage to squeak, and they chuckle at you.

"Missie, we work for an energy company called Corday. Heard of it?" the blond continues. You nod uncertainly.

"We heard you were an interesting case," the third man takes up the monologue, "so we decided to test you out."

Before you can even start to say, 'What are you talking about?' the man with the knife cuts your shirt and skirt off of your body in two fluid motions.

"Hey!" you cry, but your gag is replaced. "MNGGH!!!!" you protest as they laugh at you, and the blond walks forward to caress your arms and collarbones. You shiver under his delicate touch.

"I believe," the third man continues, "that recently you volunteered to be part of a scientific study surrounding the female orgasm. Patient 382, Maria Darlinghurst." A rush of adrenaline hits you and leaves you dizzy -- because he's completely right. They laugh at the shocked expression on your face. "That's a statement and not a question because we know it's you. Corday's CEO has paid a lot of money to keep this under the table, so to speak."

The details of the study rush through your mind. You've always had extremely powerful orgasms, so when the study reached out on social media for volunteers, you jumped at the chance -- perhaps you'd find out what was wrong with you, why doctors couldn't explain the intense strength and length of your climaxes.

But the results shocked everyone -- literally, as your skin would shock people if they touched you too soon after. Your nerves went so crazy with the powerful orgasms you had that a strong electrical impulse was generated.

"The lightbulb moment arrives!" the second man laughs, rubbing a hand up and down your bare thigh. "We did the numbers, and keeping you captive here and fucking you relentlessly is incredibly profitable for the company!" He toys with the collar, grinning.

"But only," he says, his voice lowering as he draws closer to whisper into your ear, "if we give you at least twelve orgasms a day."

You shudder at his words, feeling your cheeks growing hot as heat pools between your legs in delicious, humiliating anticipation.

"After all, we'll feed you and shelter you, you need to earn your keep by taking our cocks." The knife slices its way through your bra, a cold rush of air hitting your exposed breasts. He reaches out with one hand and cruelly twists a nipple as it hardens until you gasp into the gag, then follows with the other. He reaches down and rips at the final piece of fabric until your legs are spread, fully exposed and bound for the three men before you, your clothes in tatters on the floor.

You whimper helplessly through the gag, your desperate pleas at odds with your arousal. The man with the knife steps aside to place it on the table as the other brunet eyes you, walking forward to caress your cheek and hold your jaw. He forces you to look him in the eye.

"Hold still, pet..."

He trails his other hand down your bare chest, barely pausing to flick each nipple before travelling down to your exposed pussy. Surprisingly gently, he strokes you between your folds with a finger, bringing it up to his face so he can inspect it. Grinning, he licks the taste of you off of his finger, forcing you to watch him revel in your obvious arousal.

"She's wet and ready for us, boys." Try as you might, you can't help but feel a thrill of anticipation at the words, though some sane part of your mind protests against the intense lust you feel at the thought being bound, gagged and taken against your will.

"Well, don't just stand there, Cameron!" calls the blond, who fiddles with the dials on the machine. "Fuck the bitch already!"

Cameron wastes no time in shedding his clothes, smirking at you as he does so. "We know you have an IUD, so don't even try to ask me to wear a condom. I'm going to feel aaalllllllllllllll of you." You scream into the gag and pull at the chains, one last desperate attempt at resistance, as he steps forward, grips your hips and slowly presses all eight inches into you.

"We know all of your medical history, accessed all of your government records," he pants as he stays in you, letting you adjust to his painful length. "We know you're undocumented." He pulls out halfway, pauses. "We know you have no family in this country." He presses himself back in, inch by delicious inch. "We know you have no one to report you as missing, no one to notice that you're gone, and we've already penned your resignation letter."

Out.

"You're going to stay here forever, letting high-ranking members of this company get to fuck your tight pussy, one after another."

In.

"You're going to beg for mercy as we leave vibrators in you for hours on end, powered in part by the electrical impulses of your own powerful orgasms."

Out.

"We'll parade you around this very room for the viewing pleasure of lucky and trusted employees for your daily exercise, and feed you when you start to need more nutrition than what our semen can give you."

In.

"We'll whore you out like a common street slut for the highest bidder as long as they can make you cum."

Out.

"And there isn't a single goddamn thing you can do about it but spread your legs like a good little bitch and take it!"

IN.

Apparently having decided you've adjusted to his length, he fucks you mercilessly, pressing you into the wall as your hips start to lean into his. You can't tell if you're moaning at his words or his cock in you anymore, you just know that you want more of this, you need more of this, you need--

You cum in a rush, unexpected and quick, burning through you in an instant and leaving you gasping and desperate for more. Eager to please, Cameron continues to thrust violently into you, pulling your hair and dirty talking to rile you up again. The blond man twists a dial on the machine next to you and you feel strange, like something's been taken from you and you need more. A strange longing fills you, and you try to scream through the gag for Cameron to fill you deeper, take you harder.

He seems to understand, his thrusts becoming slower and deeper, and you moan in post-orgasmic bliss as he continues to pleasure you. Taking advantage of the slower pace, he dips his head and suckles at one nipple, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue until you can barely think, then alternating, driving you crazy.

You fall apart almost instantly when his thumb locates your clit and starts to rotate in slow, relentless circles, screaming through the gag and shuddering violently as wave after wave of your orgasm hits you. But again, it stops sooner than it usually does, leaving you unfulfilled and desperate to climax again.

'What on Earth...' you think, confused.

Unable to bear it any longer, Cameron shudders as well and finishes in you, gripping your hair as he does. He pulls out as you start to rub your thighs together, desperate for more friction.

"Oh, didn't we tell you?" comments the blond as he turns another dial on the machine. "Each time you cum, when we drain the energy you release, it'll leave you feeling like you never came in the first place. Until your last orgasm of the day, that is. We'll let you keep the pleasure from that one, when it'll all catch up to you. But when we fuck you? Gotta leave you desperate and begging like a bitch in heat."

He winks and nods to the man with the knife, who's already undressed. Cameron, meanwhile, is washing himself under a shower-head close to you. Apparently satisfied, he towels off and redresses. "All yours, Eli."

You pant with need as Eli approaches, hating yourself for how lustful you still are but unable to do anything about it. Hell, if you were untied, you don't even know if you'd want to escape, let alone try to. Cum mixed with your arousal drips onto the floor in a public display of your humiliation. Eli rolls his eyes at it, seemingly disgusted with the bodily fluids of his friend tainting yours.

"Can't have that," he mutters, detaching the handheld shower head from next to you. Turning the water on, he directs the flow over the floor under you to rinse the liquids into a drain nearby, gradually lifting the nozzle higher and higher. It grazes the inside of your thigh and you shudder as the cold hits you. It drifts to the other thigh, continually rising until a cold jet of water is suddenly hitting your pussy. You let out a small whimper.

Eli laughs at your reaction and turns the pressure up. "Seems the dirty bitch wants me to clean her!" You squeal at his words, then louder at the intensity of the stream, just slightly too low. Despite your restraints, you buck your hips, desperately trying to move down a little so the jet hits your clit.

Noticing this, Eli grins and moves the shower head up -- past your pussy and up to your chest, just between your breasts. He toys with the water: slightly left, slightly right, enjoying you jump at the temperature and the pressure on your sensitive nipples.

"C'mon, man," complains the blond, "you're not the one who pays the water bill around here. Hurry it up."

"Neither are you," Eli comments, though in some way he relents.

By turning the water on full blast and aiming it directly at your clit.

"Mmph! Mnghh mpphhh ghhh! MnngUUNNGGHHHHH!!!"

Your orgasm shatters through you as you scream through the gag, prolonged through that glorious pressure but left unsatisfied when the water eventually turns off. The machine glows, almost smugly, as it drains your orgasm away. You moan, already desperate to cum again.

"There's a good bitch," Eli murmurs, tracing patterns with the droplets across your chest. He's naked already -- when did he strip? How did you miss that? -- but seems like he's enjoying you squirm too much to fuck you just yet. "You want this cock in your wet pussy, don't you? Desperate cum slut. I bet you wish we'd kidnapped you way sooner. Bet you can't believe your luck, that you're finally being treated like the whore you are." His hands trace lower, down your abdomen, across your hips, as he speaks. "Bet if I took away that gag, you'd be thanking us for every orgasm and begging for more." You can't take your eyes off of his, but you can feel his index and middle finger spread your labia for him. "Bet if we let you down, you'd still be spreading your legs and waiting for us to fuck you." He looks down at you and smiles. "But bitches in heat need to be muzzled and restrained."

His thumb brushes up against your clit and you moan, almost glad for the gag so no one can hear how incoherent the once-verbose librarian has become. He slows the motion and you groan frustratedly, leaning your hips forward to try to get some much-wanted friction.

"Now, now," he tuts, "say please."

You stare at him, duct tape covering your mouth. He can't be serious.

"Say," he repeats, his voice taking on a dangerous tone, "PLEASE."

You do the best you can. "Pwhffth!" Cameron and the blond laugh, but Eli slaps one tit and then the other, making you shriek in pain. Clearly unsatisfied, he removes the duct tape.

"Try again."

Your chance. You could scream, or try to bite him, or force yourself to vomit all over him. Do anything to try to resist.

"Please," you whisper, disappointed in yourself and barely recognising your own voice, "...please p-pleasu- pleasure me, s-sir."

Eli smiles and surprises you by leaning in and tenderly kissing you. "Good slut."

And then, swift as a feather, he ducks down and repeats that kiss on the inside of your left thigh. Your right.

"What the fuck, Eli," Cameron complains, "gag her!"

"She's desperate to cum," Eli mumbles against your entrance, sending delicious vibrations through your core, "she's not saying anything except, 'Please, sir,' and, 'Thank you, sir,' and, 'Fuck me hard, sir.' Isn't that right, bitch?" He tentatively strokes at you with his tongue before plunging it as deep as he can into your pussy.

"Gah, f-fu-fuck, oh god, oh please don't -- unGH -- stop, oH!"

He withdraws his tongue and lightly touches the broad, flat part to your sensitive clit, pressing down hard and providing delicious pressure. Slow, tentative licks up and down, slowly getting stronger and faster until he's lapping at your clit like it's the most delicious thing in the world to him.

"Say you're a bitch who deserves to be tied up," Eli says against your dripping wet pussy.

"I- I'm a- I-"

THWAP!

You shriek in surprise as Eli delivers a sharp blow to your open pussy, hand poised to spank you again. His eyes have a sharp glint to them that frightens you more than Cameron and the blond put together.

"I won't repeat myself."

"Th-thank you for tying me up, sir, I- I'm, I'm a bitch who- who deserves to be tied up."

He smirks at you. "Good girl."

And then dips his head again and rewards you for your confession.

"Unnnghhh, please, ohh right there, FUCK!"

Your fourth orgasm rips violently through you, as you shake uncontrollably against Eli's relentless tongue. But again, there's no release, and you already feel your body yearning for more.

Eli seems to see this in your desperate, pleading eyes.

"Don't worry, little cockslut. That was a warm up."