Two Participants

The soothing hum of an air conditioner drifts through the office, filling the void of the girl's hesitation at the question, "No, not for over two years," she finally responds.

The interviewer makes a note. "Any encounters within this period?"

"...Yeah," follows the pause.

"If you care to say so, roughly how recently was this?"

A rustling of paperwork fills the moment's silence as the young woman averts her gaze.

"It was -- um, about ...uh, 4 months ago."

"Lastly, have you been looking for any further partners recently?" the interviewer asks softly, making sure not to offend or embarrass the gentle looking girl before him.

Lifting her deep blue eyes to his, she firmly states, "No, just enjoying my independence," before giving a warm smile.

The interviewer smiles back and turns off the sound recorder on his desk which separates them both in the spacious, finely decorated office room. Laying down his notes methodically, he addresses the girl.

"Thank you Kyra, I hope that wasn't too invasive. We just need to collect as much data about our subjects as we can," the interviewer beams at her, taking in the sight before him. Kyra's long, silky, white blonde hair was radiant against her slender face. Her high cheekbones encompassed a smooth, pale complexion: all serving to cast an exotic impression.

"No, I fully understand, Dr Chain," Kyra replies.

"Please, just call me Terrence."

"...Terrence," she repeats after him. "So what will the study involve?" she asks, trying not to let her eyes linger too long on his, which seem to pierce through his eye-length dark black hair.

He answers without taking his penetrating gaze from her, though his tone and expression is warm, "We are merely looking for your feedback on a new range of massage oils. I cannot give away any more I am afraid, as it may interfere with the results."

"Oh, okay then," replies Kyra, pressing against the armrests of her chair, a slight creaking of wood as she leans on them, preparing to be asked to leave. "When will the test take place?"

"If you remain in the waiting room outside while my colleague and I confirm times, we shall inform you shortly on a time frame. Also, payment will be received following the experiment, so you don't need to worry about looking for a new job for a little while," Terrence says with a smile before standing.

"Okay then, I can't wait to take part in it all," she responds sweetly and makes her way towards the door.

Terrence surveys her slim, petite frame as she walks away.

"You have a delightfully mellifluous voice," he comments suddenly before she can leave. "I do look forward to hearing much more of it."

"Oh... Th-thanks," she replies, a little flustered as she partly opens the door, not truly knowing its meaning, though the little smile she notices from him gives her a warm, appreciated feeling nonetheless.

Jonathan sits in the waiting room, thinking about the questions he had been asked and quite surprised at how personal some had been, even delving into his sexual orientation. The way he was looking at the researcher though, he was surprised she even needed to ask. Jasmine was not the kind of person he had expected as one of the researchers; her laid back, flirty manner seemed to make it clear she knew how much he desired women. Also, her questions about his sexual history seemed to be more for her personal interest than for what the study must surely involve, though it didn't bother him. Jonathan simply smirked to himself, picturing being back in the office room with her, that devilish grin of hers, those thin, black rimmed glasses that accentuated such suggestive eyes.

He is pulled from his daydreams by a slight girl entering the room.

"Hi," she says sweetly with a gleaming smile. Jonathan does his best not to settle his eyes on the rest of her body, which is doing its best to draw his gaze. From her form fitting white top to her tight fitting jeans, her clothing succeeds in displaying every aspect of her physical femininity.

"Hey there!" he says as she sits beside him on the black leather settee. They share an awkward, silent moment as they both look around the plain, unspectacular waiting room, only a small table with a jug of water and several glasses adding a little diversion to it.

"It's hot in here isn't it?" she says aloud as if to break the ice. Jonathan nods before extending his right hand to her.

"I'm Jonathan by the way," he says coolly, smiling at her warm demeanour. As she introduces herself as Kyra and shakes his hand, he begins to wish that he had made more effort in his clothing. Introducing himself to this stunning looking girl made him very aware that his baggy long sleeved shirt and black jeans hid his athletic build.

"So... You're here for the study?" he asks, sitting back against the settee and watching her shapely lips as she replies.

"Yeah, but they didn't tell me anything in particular about the study. Did they mention much to you?"

"No not really," Jonathan replies, remembering some of the questions he was asked, trying not to smirk at the thought of whether Kyra was asked the same.

"So," Kyra suddenly spoke a little louder, as if actively trying to snatch her own attention from the path their topic would lead, "What do you do?"

Jonathan clears his throat as if ready to reel off a well-rehearsed speech. "I'm still looking for work, hard to find anything out there at the moment. I did a course in sports studies but that hasn't helped too much," he ends with a wry laugh, but her warm smile and interested gaze implores him to carry on. "I'm really interested in working abroad. I have been teaching myself Japanese, somewhere I would love to go to teach."

"Oh really?! I love anime. And the music... just adore Gackt. I'd love to learn the language!" she responds cheerily.

"So you can understand the lyrics?" he says with a laugh, but her sweet giggle in response alone makes him never want to leave the room.

"So that I can get a little more out of the country when I go on holiday there, a bit of a dream destination, you know? It's just such a difficult language. But what new language isn't I suppose."

"Yeah, just about having the determination is all."

"Maybe you could teach me sometime?" she says with schoolgirl innocence, her brilliant white teeth shining like a beacon to Jonathan. He isn't sure whether she is serious or not, so simply responds with a smile. So often had he been in this same situation, completely unsure whether a girl was flirting with him or just being polite, yet he always felt like even the slightest smile was a cause for flirtation. Alas, it was the trappings of his never ending duration of single life.

"Hajimemashita, Jonathan desu, dozo yoroshiku."

"So what does that mean, sensei?" Kyra asks with a grin.

"I'm Jonathan, pleased to meet you."

"Hmmm... Hajimeshite Kyra dess, dozo yoshiku... I think I need to practice." The pair laugh together.

"You'll get the hang of it," Jonathan says brightly as he leans forward and pours two glasses of water out. "Anata wa utsukushii desu," he adds while handing her the drink.

"So that means?"

"You are beautiful. The first sentence I memorized."

She smiles at him while he laughs, "Aww thank you... A right little charmer aren't you. I bet your girlfriend must love all the compliments."

"I'm single actually."

"Really? I am surprised! Guess not all the hot ones are taken."

The sentence catches Jonathan by surprise, and he finds himself not wanting this conversation to stop anytime soon. "How about you?" he asks.

"I've preferred the single life for a little," she replies gently, "It's more fun."

"I agree, besides, you don't get so tied down. At least, not in the good way anyhow." He chuckles, hoping he hasn't overstepped bounds with the remark, but her giggle in response reassures him while they both drink.

"So, were they asking you some, um... pretty dodgy questions in there?" Kyra blurts out, suddenly finding the courage to ask what had been on her mind while gazing into Jonathan's oval face. His large brown eyes were drawing her in and letting her feel so much more relaxed.

"What kind of questions?" he asks slyly with a gentle smile, knowing exactly what she means, but wanting her to linger on it more.

She feels her face get hotter and her cheeks tingle as she answers. "You know... Like, sexual questions and all that," she says quickly before diverting her gaze to the table in front of them, watching a bead of water tumble down the glass jug. The way it glides down the smooth curve of the jug makes her suddenly think of something so phallic, so erotic. She feels herself growing woozy and tired.

Jonathan feels his head spinning as he answers without even thinking about what he is saying, "Y-yeah... all about how often I masturbate and when I last had sex. I bet they asked you the same things?" The room started to get darker for him, all while thinking about nothing other than Kyra being asked the same questions. In a jarring flash he imagined her sitting there, masturbating herself in front of him.

"I think something's been..." the petite girl begins, as the room starts to spin, quickly succumbing to a deep sleep beyond her control.

* * * * *

Jonathan slowly comes around, the sound of voices seeming so distant, trickling into his consciousness.

"Subjects: one male. one female. Both are in their late twenties. No sexual activity with a partner noted within a 3 month period."

Jonathan's senses start to return and instinctively he tries to rub his eyes against the light, but discovers he cannot move. The young man's wrists are cuffed above his head. When he tries to twist his body he finds his ankles are also locked in place, leaving him standing upright with a strap around his midsection. The solid feeling against his back tells him that he has been strapped upright to some kind of table. He feels bare, with only the familiar tightness of white boxer briefs against his skin, but the heat filling the small, padded, brightly lit room is comfortable. Eyes now adjusted, the outline of numerous black monitor screens fills his vision. They are elevated in front of Jonathan on their stands, stark against the white padding of the otherwise bare room.

Jonathan's throat starts to tighten, struggling to swallow or catch his breath as his fears go into overdrive, until suddenly the screens click on all at once. A single image materializes on them, and it makes Jonathan gasp.

His thoughts of Kyra quickly flood back as his memory restores itself; sitting alone with her, getting to know a little about one another. 'The water, it must have been,' he thinks to himself. However, never could he have comprehended that he would be seeing her like this: restrained spread eagled on a table as he is, in a room just like his, but positioned lying down. Every screen was showing a different angle of her, though it was the centre screen his eyes were glued to, showing in profile the way her thin, fragile body naturally arched on the table. He could see her chest rising and falling quickly as she lay in wait, blindfolded and unable to see what looked like solar panels above her.

"Gorgeous, isn't she?" comes a familiar female voice from behind which causes him to jump. Before he can speak, she continues. "You are both perfectly safe here. You see, we have our own particular ways of testing massage oils." As she spoke, he recognized the sultry tone of that bespectacled, flirty and distractingly sexy examiner. Jonathan's head was spinning in a way that had nothing to do with the drugged water.

"Now, if you look above her," continued the woman, "Those screens are for measuring her sexual responses. You will notice the same array in front of you. In short, the readouts let us know just when someone is about to climax, whether or not they try to hide it."

"What are --?" Jonathan begins before being cut short by her.

"Hush now, and watch!" she says as she steps forward to stand beside him. When he turns his head to see her, that buxom figure standing out in that tight white researcher's jacket, she gestures to the screen that her own eyes are locked on. Jonathan does as he is told.

They both watch, transfixed by the young girl on screen, writhing and calling out for help, for some kind of response. Her modesty preserved only by thin white lingerie. The shape of her mound outlined under the delicate fabric, as well as the low cut of the bra that only just conceals her nipples, is arresting. The little red bow at the top of her panties and the red trace along the bra straps completes this picture of sheer eroticism, leaving Jonathan to chide himself. He shouldn't be feeling so aroused under these circumstances.

"J-Jasmine, right? Your name was Jasmine!" Jonathan addresses the researcher standing next to him.

She finally turns to him with a smile that would have him ready to pounce on her under different circumstances, something he thinks she must be all too aware of.

"That's right Jonathan, Why don't you enjoy this, while I help you feel a little more comfortable?" Her words are as soft as her touch. Those long fingers press against his chest; standing in front of him, Jasmine slowly drops to her knees, drifting her hands down his torso, leaving him to focus on the screens. She kisses down his body to his naval lightly while addressing him further, "You are both our subjects now," she purrs, "We will let you go, of course, after we have had our fun with you. Things will be much more enjoyable if you simply relax and go along for the ride. You will both have a lot of fun," she assures. Her caresses drift to his hips, she begins kissing lightly above his waist line.

Jonathan stays silent, watching a dark haired male approach Kyra, introducing himself as Terrence.

"Don't worry; she is in the same position as you, though it can take a little longer for females to settle into the scenario," Jasmine's fingers trace across the elastic of his boxers, admiring the bulge held tightly in the soft underwear.

He focuses on the screen, watching as the male begins tracing a single fingertip down the centre of Kyra's body, from her neck, slowly down her cleavage, down past the hem of her panties and over her soft mound. The last part makes her try to twist away, but the strap over her waist keeps her in place, letting him begin all over again at a cruelly methodical pace.

Seeing her straining against the cuffs, begging to the tormenter she cannot see to let her go, sends a feeling through Jonathan that he cannot explain. So often he'd watch such predicaments online, but to be involved in something like this, for it to be a reality, was beyond his comprehension.

"Enjoying watching her?" Jasmine asks quietly before kissing down his underwear, pressing her lips along the sides of that bulging manhood.

He struggles to keep his concentration, but does not respond, focusing on Kyra writhing as she is being massaged more thoroughly by the man, palms pressing against all the exposed areas of skin - of which there are many. Terrence continues to console Kyra; his touches are like that of a lover, so tender and delicate. Jonathan listens to the ensuing conversation, finding himself entranced by Kyra's sharp little intakes of breath between every word. While she may be telling him to stop this, that it is illegal, that they can't get away with doing this, Jonathan can almost hear the battle raging between the girl's mind and body.

Only the long, lingering kiss which Jasmine suddenly places to his bulging manhood against the confines of those boxer briefs can shift his attention from the screen. When she pulls her head back and makes to stand, he realises just how desperately he wants her to do so much more to him. His own mental battle prevents him from voicing it.

"I think you are coping well enough. Let me go and help your pretty friend in there relax a little more," she says before leaving Jonathan alone in the room to continue watching Kyra's massage.

Jasmine suddenly enters the room on Jonathan's screen, her fingertips eagerly joining Terrence's. Kyra gasps, "Who is that?" at the new touch, but does not receive an answer.

Their four hands work in unison, gliding across each side of the girl's body, making her writhe more and more. Her protests and pleas begin to wane by the minute, giving way to deeper breaths which beckon Jonathan to jump through the screen and take her, luring his eager manhood to strain ever helplessly against those tight fabric confines.

"Mmmmm, okay... okay... What do -- what do you want?" Kyra raggedly asks once her pelvis begins to rock in a slow rhythm of need.

"Tell us where you want us to touch," replies Jasmine in a tone that makes Jonathan want nothing more than to be in that room with them, tormenting the helpless girl.

Her reply does not come instantly, instead it is coaxed out of her by fingertips trailing painfully close to her most intimate places. They curl around the base of her cupped breasts but do not squeeze, merely applying the faintest pressure, making the girl raise her chest as best she can for more but to no avail. Terrence's fingers slide along her inner thighs, his fingers brushing so painfully close to those tight panties, her body betraying her with a little patch of wetness. Even Jonathan feels her frustration through the screen.

Finally she gives in. "Please touch me a little more," Kyra whispers.

The hands pull away instantly; wordlessly the pair exit, leaving Kyra to scream out after them. While she is calling out for them to let her go, Jonathan knows full well that she wants nothing more than for them to give her body much more attention. The very thought sends a surge of desire through him, making him want nothing more than to free his hands and masturbate to the view of the writhing girl before him.

Neither Jonathan nor Kyra sense the gas circulating the room, odourless and invisible, it affects them both almost instantaneously, sending them into the gentle arms of a deep sleep.

* * * * *

Kyra wakes as if wrenched from a cool stream, instantly hit by a sense of heat and urgency, like being awoken amidst a wave of oncoming traffic. Light strokes against her skin alert her body before her eyes can even adjust. Figures stand around her, each with brushes in hand, gliding the soft tips up and down across every inch of her not covered by the new lingerie. She has been tended to during her sleep, cleaned and changed into pink lingerie that hugs her intimate frame tightly. The thin material has a slight flowery pattern etched along the light pink fabric, clinging tight like a second skin.

She is standing, restrained as before, spread eagled, though mercifully not blindfolded. TV monitors stand in front of her, and the image on them sends a pulse of desire through her. The man she remembers she had been speaking to before, Jonathan, was standing the same as her in an identical room. He is completely naked and also not alone; two women are servicing him, though his sudden gasps indicate that he too had only recently awoken. The moment Kyra's gaze fell upon his throbbing manhood, the pulse of desire sharpens to a surge, yet the brush strokes did not change pace.

Kyra realises that it is Terrence knelt between her open legs and administering brush strokes up and down her inner thighs. He isn't the only one, though he is the only one familiar, yet before she can say a word, he speaks first.

"Relax again, my dear Kyra, and enjoy Jonathan being worked by my lovely assistant and colleague. Jasmine has been waiting patiently for this chance to take good care of him. Just watch the way she teases him, imagine it were you. Now that you are both willing to climax, our machines can truly gauge your pleasure."