The Experiment

Eventually a woman I didn't recognize came down the hall to get me. I had been instructed to bring shorts and a t-shirt, and carried my bundle down the hall as I was escorted by the woman. She turned and told me to change into my workout clothes and then cross the hall into the lab. I did so, a little nervous about why I was going to be wearing workout clothes.

When I entered the lab, it looked much like a modern workout gym. It had some dumb bells, various exercise machines, pads, and the music over the loudspeaker was of a rhythm to encourage a good workout. The same woman met me there.

She explained that in order to engage in the experiment, they first needed to perform a stress test and various other tests. She put me on a treadmill with a heart monitor and I ran for 15 minutes. Then I was asked to one hundred push-ups. I was tired at this point, but it wasn't over. She led me over to a chin up bar and I told me to do thirty pull-ups. Then one hundred sit ups. Now I was getting tuckered out. She told me that only 15% of the men they invited to join the test could pass this basic fitness test, and that I was one of them.

She handed me some paperwork, told me I could shower and change, and that the receptionist would schedule a time for me to come back for the experiment itself.

As I showered, dressed, and walked back down the hall, I started wondering what this experiment could possibly be. Why did the individual need to be able to do thirty pull ups without resting? Why the push ups? The stress test? Must be one hell of an experiment I told myself, more anxious not less about what I had gotten myself into.

I arranged another appointment for the following week, and walked home.

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One week later, I was back. I was told I would not require the workout gear this time, and I waited in the reception briefly before the blond graduate student met me. We walked down the same hall but this time we continued beyond the workout gym area. We entered into a small room, nicely decorated with a small window at head-level. We both sat down.

"As you know we are doing further experimentation on the human sexual response. You volunteered for this additional study. Are you ready to proceed?" she inquired.

"I am ready. But I have to say that without any additional details, and after the rigorous stress-test, I am a little anxious. I don't even know what the experiment is at this point," I told her.

"We will be observing your behavior under a variety of experimentally controlled conditions. The object of the experiment is for you to attempt to prevent yourself from having an orgasm. We will be monitoring your physical conditions and measuring your outcomes. We want to understand what it takes for an orgasm to occur. Does that make sense?" she asked.

"I guess so. What do you want me to do? Stand here and masturbate or something?" I said, slightly embarrassed.

"No. Nothing like that. You will enter the room ahead, undress, and then await instructions which will come through the loudspeaker. Just follow the instructions. If at any time you want to stop the experiment, just say the word 'STOP', OK?" she explained.

"OK," I replied.

And she then walked out of the room.

I looked around, shrugged my shoulders as if I was getting ready to shadow box, trying to psyche myself up for whatever this was. I wondered how best to limit my orgasm, since that was what they were measuring. I figured I would manage pretty well.

I entered the next room, and undressed, leaving my clothes in a neat stack on the counter to my left. After a few minutes, a gentle female voice that I did not recognize came across the loudspeaker:

"Enter the room directly to your right. It will be dimly lit. Follow our instructions once you have entered the room."

The voice was soothing, attractive, relaxing. I entered the room, and she was right: it was dim in there. I practically couldn't see especially once I closed the door behind me. The temperature was a little cold as I stood there naked, getting accustomed to the light.

"Now you should be able to see better Jonathan. Lie on the surface to your right, and relax. Some velcro bands will automatically wrap around your legs, arms and head. Just relax as this happens.

I lay on a strange surface, more like a sophisticated dentist chair than anything else I could use to describe it. It had pads to rest each of my legs on, separately, and the same for my arms. As soon as I had relaxed, a hissing sound began and automated velcro pads wrapped around me.

They were not just on my ankles and wrists. They came across at knee-height, across my chest. My chin. My forehead. My elbows. I could barely move. In fact, the more I tried, the less I could move. With each little adjustment, the pads tightened automatically. That made me suddenly a little claustrophobic, especially in the darkened room.

Then a robot-like arm taped small electrodes to my shoulder, chest, and ankle. With each of my heartbeats, a low, dull pulse sound echoed through the room. Apparently, my heart monitor was hooked up to loudspeakers so they could record my physical reactions. My pulse was already above normal, I could tell.

"Relax Jonathan. Don't fight it. You can always say STOP and we will end the experiment. Just let go of your anxiety here. We are watching you every step of the way."

That is when I noticed several cameras mounted on posts around the large room. My eyes were adapting. There was another chair like the one I was in, facing away from me, and there were several lighting systems along one wall. I assumed they had microphones as well, so they could hear me.

"We want to now test your sensitivity to stimulus. Just relax. Remember, the goal here is to prevent yourself from having an orgasm."

That made me curious about how they could stimulate me if I was strapped down on the chair/bed system. Suddenly, the chair spun backwards, and I was laying completely horizontally. The ceiling lit up.

A rhythmic music began, and I could hear my increased heartbeat as well. I didn't recognize the music, but it was tantalizing, loud, and pulsing in the room. I felt its intensity. I could feel the bass in the room, loud enough to feel the waves of the sound on my body if I really focused. The lights started pulsing in the same rhythm with the music. Not bright, just waves of lighter and darker light, timed perfectly. I could feel the energy of the lights and the sound, my eyes peeled for stimulus, laying flat on my back, strapped down to the chair.

The robot arm moved.

Someone must be controlling it. That was when I noticed what I guessed were one-way mirrors on two walls.

I could see the arm, mechanical and gleaming, out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly it was positioned above my chest. It extended forward, meeting my left nipple with one of two finger-like rubber-tipped points. The point touched. My back arched upward, to no effect since I was completely strapped down.

The tip suddenly started vibrating quickly, again in synchrony with the music. That was fucking erotic, and my penis was fully erect now. The vibration barely touched me, but the effect was overwhelming. Sweat broke out on my brow, on my belly; my legs tightened with the music.

The tip moved to the other nipple, and started in with its vibration. Who was controlling this fucking thing, I asked myself? What the fuck was going on here? I was starting to get nervous, but I was also intensely excited. At this rate, I might actually have an orgasm without other stimulation.

A second arm appeared, this one tugged at my earlobe, then ran across my lips. Suddenly, one of the mechanical fingers pressed on my lips, vibrating hard. With one nipple being vibrated, and my lips, I was really distracted.

Suddenly the ceiling became a video screen. The arm changed angles so I could see past it easily. The image was video of a woman, from behind. She was dressed in a gown, swaying her hips to the music. My cock tightened immediately. The tip on my nipple was driving me crazy.

"Fuck!" I screamed, as loud as I could. "Take this fucking robot arm off me!"

But it continued, vibrating, as the woman swayed. The arm at my lips shifted, and suddenly the fingers were twirling my balls lightly. I pushed my hip up again, trying for a thrust, but I couldn't budge an inch.

My chair lifted up my legs, and spread them slightly, and the fingers on my balls started vibrating.

Suddenly, the woman on the screen on the ceiling dropped the gown. Her blond hair fell mid-length on her back. Her butt was incredibly shaped, her legs swaying. At that moment, the tip moved down my belly, vibrating all the way.

"No fucking way -- No, Please no!" I cried out. I was tempted to say STOP, but I held back. I wanted to see how this ended.

The fingers came to rest on the base of my cock, with very light pressure, vibrating away. I needed a real stroke, not this light touch. I was dying.

The woman turned towards the camera. At the exact same moment, the robot arm's "fingers" opened and started stroking me gently. It was the graduate assistant! She was the woman in the video. Her breasts amazingly formed, her nipples hard. An erotic smile spread across her face.

"Unbelievable," I uttered, as the hand stroked harder.

The fingers on my balls grabbed the tightening sack, pulled down and started a back and forth twisting motion with my balls.

I pressed my hips up to meet the robot's hand, but couldn't budge. After twenty strokes I was sure I would release myself, but I bit my lip and cried out, "You aren't fucking getting me so easily as that!"

At that moment, the scenes on the ceiling changed. The assistant was sucking on a large erection. Moments later it erupted on her neck and breasts. The she was being fucked by another man, who quickly erupted on her belly. The scenes were patched together, clearly from many sex sessions. Over and over, repeating in some cases, the cocks were moving and erupting.

Her arched back pressed up as a she was fucked hard from behind. I could feel my orgasm building, and I tightened the muscles in my belly to prevent it. The cock withdrew and sprayed across her lower back, perfectly angled for re-entry of the cock.

The robot pressed harder, then suddenly at the end of each up stroke the vibration would go on for one or two intense seconds. I bit harder, drawing blood this time, and closed my eyes. The overhead intercom interrupted:

"Never close your eyes. That ends the experiment," it barked, at which point I opened my eyes again.

The stroking sped up now, and I winced at the pleasure. The images blurring together into one long erotic chain of sweat, semen, breasts, and lips. It was all blurring now, and my heart rate was almost unbearable. I tugged at the straps but they wouldn't budge.

Suddenly the robot arms folded back, and the images faded. The music continued, picking up intensity as if that was possible. And I was left alone.

I thought this meant the experiment was over, but I was so wrong about that.

The automated chair-like device I was strapped into shifted me from my back to a sitting position, pulling my legs apart, and thrusting my hips for me into the receiving pinch of the two-fingered arms of the robot. It fucked the two fingers, vibrating my whole body with pleasure and motion. I couldn't move -- it was moving me for me.

It spun me into a crouch and forced me to fuck the fingers in more of a doggie style position. Pumping harder and harder for me -- the hand motionless, and all of the pumping action coming from moving my body and hips and legs and back for me.

I was being controlled to fuck.

It was like nothing I had ever daydreamed of.

But I clenched down and prevented my orgasm. It went on for ten minutes or so, with several variations on positions and speeds. But I held on for the ride. It felt so foreign to have my body moving out of my own control. To have a machine moving me. But I went with it, and watched the wetness on my tip lubricating the rubber tips of the robot fingers, and slowly traveling down the length of my heavy shaft.

It stopped suddenly. The music silenced. The lights further dimmed. The motion halted.

Then the voice of the graduate student came over the loudspeaker. "Jon, you have stamina. You feeling OK? You look a little exhauted."

Feebly, I replied, "I am fine. Don't stop. I want to fuck you now that I have seen your body on the videos." I moaned as the robot arm stroked me a couple more times.

She laughed over the loudspeaker. "That is a good fantasy for your wildest dreams because it ain't going to happen," she chortled.

I shook my head, the tiny quarter-inch that it would even budge with the straps on.

The music started again. Slowly, pulsing, building.

My erection refilled. And I rested, now on my back again.

That was when the lights came up slightly. Just enough for me to see a large device, similar to mine, across the room. I hadn't noticed it before, and its back was to me so even now I couldn't make out the exact structure.

The other system slowly moved towards me, then slowly spun around.

My breath was knocked out of me. Dr. Harkness, fully naked, was strapped to a similar chair fifteen feet away from me. I couldn't catch my breath. Un-fucking believable.

She was a sight to behold -- her breasts pushing up between harnesses holding her down to the chair. Her nipples erect. Her eyes staring at me, like an animal. Her legs stretched downwards, her belly taught, breathing in and out rapidly.

She was hungry for my body, I could tell just by the look in her eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I yelled at her.

"Come and get it Jonathan. Nobody has lasted this long, and now you are going to cum once and for all. Come on kiddo. Come and get it!" she teased me.

No shit, I was going to come and get it. And quickly.

The one problem was that I couldn't move.

That is when her chair lifted her upwards, spreading her legs, twirling her in the air effortlessly.

It positioned her breasts above me, her legs spayed outwards, me on my back and her above me, hovering. One nipple came down to my lips.

"Fuck yes!" I yelled.

The nipple came into range of my tongue and I lashed out it with my tongue. Furiously I played with it. Unable to get my mouth around it, my tongue darted across it over and over. She winced and shuddered her body, barely vibrating the powerful chair and strap system holding her above me. The other nipple moved into range. I tongued it over and over.

"Don't you fucking dare give me real pleasure Jon," she whispered to me.

That's when I screamed outloud to the graduate student who must be watching through the mirrors and controlling the devices:

"I want her fucking pussy now. I want to fuck her so badly I am going to die!" I yelled.

The chairs spun, dizzyingly. And suddenly she was spread eagle below me, I was roughly standing, still suspended in the air, my cock bobbing upwards. The controller guided my cock to her clit and rotated her body in tiny motions. My cock rubbed circles around her clit. I pulsed the erection upwards, and it slapped the side of her clit with each pulse.

"Don't you fucking dare Jon!" she screamed.

"Give me that pussy now!" I responded, talking to the graduate student behind the mirror.

Her voice came over the loudspeaker momentarily, "I am masturbating watching you now Jon. Do the best you can and there may be a prize in this for you afterall."

And she jammed my hips forward, thrusting my cock against her pussy. But she missed and my cock awkwardly pressed across her clit, through the thin grasses of her pubic hair, along her mound and jutting up and over the top of her pubic bone.

"Try again. I need that pussy now!" I yelled.

The lights started pulsing, almost strobe-like, just as the music burst forth in a powerful beating humming noise.

She repositioned my hips, lower this time, and thrust my butt forward.

In one long stroke my cock filled Dr. Harkness. Her face grimaced in pleasure. My cock yearned for more, but the controller pulled me out.

Suddenly the motions began.

She pumped my hips for me, arching my back expertly with each pump, going just deep enough to cause real pleasure for each of us, and pulling back out almost to the point the head was visible.

"Fuck yes, give me that pussy. I want to fuck the doctor harder", I begged over the music, barely audible.

My cock was stroking at least once per second. The doctor's pussy was opening fully for me now, and the wetness had dribbled out.

The controller spun my arm around, and placed my thumb within range of her clit. I started intensely rubbing her clit with my thumb, provided just enough range of motion to really press on the clit.

Dr. Harkness yanked at her straps and suddenly barked out in orgasm.

"Fuck me harder Jon. Don't stop Susan. Don't stop now. Fuck me as hard as you can, both of you. Fuck yes!!!!!" she screamed.

Her eyes rolled back in her head as she squeezed my heavy member inside her. She pumped on it, unconsciously licking lips as I pressed her clit and she came.

Seconds later the controller spun her over me and her clit was on my mouth. Her legs were splayed, she above me, me on my back again. My cock was aching for more of her, but I had no power to change the situation.

My tongue went to work and with a minute Dr. Harkness let go another massive orgasm on my mouth. The grad student pressed her pussy down onto my mouth hard enough that if it weren't for my nose I would have completely suffocated. I felt the waves of orgasm on her hardened clit as the doctor came on my face -- and I tasted her salt and pleasure as she came to rest, practically asleep above me.

The music faded and the lights came back up.

To my right, out of my peripheral vision I could see the door open, and the graduate student walked in. She unsnapped the doctor's harnesses, and the doctor stepped out of her chair, completely wiped out.

Susan slowly, seductively undressed. And I was reminded by how luscious her body was. Dr. Harkness was incredible, but Susan was ten years younger, firmer, and more fit. And she was incredible. My fading erection started up again, as Susan stepped into the device, smiling.

"This is your reward Jon," she said, a smirk on her face. "I want some of that big cock now. Let's see what it can do for me finally," she added.

I couldn't believe it. Dr. Harkness walked over to me, and pushed a button on my chair. A small keypad and joystick flipped up hear my right hand.

"Use these to control your chair. Hit the yellow button to change which chair you control. Enjoy!" she whispered in my ear.

I was blown away. I finally had control!? Indeed I did. I pressed the joystick and slowly spun around. Then the other way. Then up, then down. I was getting the hang of it. Like a video game. I hit the yellow button, and suddenly Susan's chair animated. Incredible.

I moved the chair towards her. I moved her chair towards me. The music came back on. Dr. Harkness stroked my cock with her hand briefly to fully form my erection, winking at me.

I was salivating, my eyes locked on her's, then on Susan's body. I wanted her so badly that I couldn't stand it.

I rotated her legs up and apart. I moved my chair level. I raised her. She was above me now, the music pulsing, my cock bobbing. I actually watched as a drop fell from the lips of her opening, down to the floor. She as ready.

I shifted the controls again.

"I want that fucking pussy!" I screamed, and I maneuvered as carefully as I could.

I finally got the head of my cock up to her opening.

"Fuck me Jonathan. Cum with me. Fuck me," she whispered. "I can't move, and I don't have a joy stick. Please, I need you now. End this experiment."