I’m trying not to glance down as she leans forward to slide the glasses onto my face. It’s not easy, because both her blouse and her white lab coat seem to be lacking some important buttons at the top, and she’s got way more soft, carmel-colored cleavage than could be contained by her neckline, even if it had those missing buttons. I catch a whiff of her perfume and do my best to retain my composure.
“There you go, Mr. Hollis. How do those fit? Not too tight?” There’s no mistaking the twinkle in her dark eyes as she asks.
“Just great.”
“Well if you need another fitting after you’ve worn them a while, or any other kind of adjustment” – and with this her smile becomes just a bit wider – “you can come back any time. OK?”
“Sure. Thanks for your help.”
Her smile is all sweetness now. “My pleasure.”
I take the bag with the glasses case and cleaning cloths and turn to leave. Haley, who’s been waiting on the couch near the entrance stands up and slides her arm through mine as we walk together out into the mall.
“She was quite sexy, wasn’t she?” she says, giving me a sly smile.
I steal a glance over at her. Her bright green eyes are fixing me with a mixture of mischief and malice. I know that look. She’s feeling jealous and she’s going to put me through the wringer for it. But given the way Haley puts her libido to work whenever she’s tormenting me, the prospect of going through the wringer is something I almost look forward to. I say almost, because she’s also deviously smart and utterly remorseless, and I’ve learned to be wary of what she can come up with when she’s motivated.
“Was she? I didn’t really notice.”
She elbows me in the ribs. “You were being a perfect gentleman, but you can’t fool me. I saw the way you were looking at her.”
“Well, she was kind of busting out of her lab coat. And I’ve always had a thing for them anyway.”
“For what? Boobs?”
“No – well, yes. But I meant lab coats.”
“Oh do tell.”
Uh oh. Probably should have kept that to myself. Haley is keenly interested in anything that seems the least bit kinky. I’m not going to get away with sweeping this back under the rug. I may as well come clean – she’ll get it all out of me eventually anyway.
“I don’t know. It’s just – not really a fetish, but there’s something I’ve always found totally hot about a woman in a lab coat. It’s the whole air of clinical detachment, I guess. Combined with a little bit of sexiness, and it’s… I just find the idea… uh,” My words fail as I notice her piercing gaze has gotten even more intense.
She kept her eyes fixed on me for a heartbeat more, then turned away. “Well, she certainly had that whole look going on, though she didn’t seem too detached to me. And the glasses. You like the glasses, too?”
“Oh, absolutely. It’s part of the whole look.”
“You never told me.”
“It’s never come up before.”
“Hmmm, I have half a mind to do an experiment of my own on you.”
“Oh, man, Haley. That would be…” I don’t even know what to say. I can’t even be sure she’s serious, and I’ll never live it down if she’s just kidding and I take the bait. But if she IS serious, oh man. I’m almost scared at how badly I’m wishing she’s serious. “What kind of experiment are we talking about?”
“Oh, I can’t tell you that. It might bias the outcome. How about this Thursday? My place? How about 5:30? That’ll give you time to fill out the paperwork.”
“Oh, ha ha.” I glance over at her. It’s almost too good to believe. “You’re really serious?”
Her smile becomes a half smirk. She’s got me now, one way or the other. “Show up on Thursday at 5:30 and find out.”
Oh man, oh man. She’s serious.
* * *
Thursday at 5:29 my finger is on the doorbell at Haley’s apartment. I hear high heels approaching from the hallway inside, and the door opens. I thought I’d prepared myself mentally for whatever she might have cooked up, but with one glance at her I know I was just bullshitting myself.
Haley is wearing a fitted white lab coat that hugs her curves and comes down to just above the middle of her thighs. The top buttons are undone, and her cleavage fills out the neckline quite as nicely as that girl’s from the optometrist’s office did. Her long, sandy-blonde hair is clipped up in a loose bun on top of her head. She’s wearing black rimmed glasses and holding a clipboard. Her long, sexy legs are covered in smooth, white stockings, and her heels are candy-apple red. It’s obvious the first step in the experiment is to deprive the subject of the ability to breathe or think, and she’s succeeded.
“Mister…” Her eyes flick down to the clipboard. “Hollis? You’re right on time. Come this way, please.” She steps aside and I walk in. My mouth is suddenly dry. I’ve been to Haley’s apartment dozens of times, but this feels different somehow. “Proceed to the end of the hall, please.” At the end of the hall she opens the closet. “Please disrobe. You may use the hangers or fold your clothes and put them on the shelf.”
I glance around. The small space of the hallway feels claustrophobic. “You want me to undress here?”
“Yes please. Then we can proceed.”
It makes me nervous as hell to get undressed with her standing there watching me. It’s also strangely arousing. She makes occasional marks on the clipboard as I take off my clothes.
“This way please.” We walk down the hall and she holds open a door for me. But it’s not the bedroom – it’s her spare room, which she doesn’t really use except for storage and which I’ve only been in once or twice. She’s put up a medical screen that makes an L just inside the door and blocks off most of the room from view. “Please sit,” she says, motioning me to a stool.
I take a seat and she hands me another clipboard that was hanging on the screen. “We just need some information from you, and then we can begin. I’ll wait here in case you have any questions.”
Wow, she really went all out. The form looks like a real medical form. I start filling out my name, address, etc. and then I look at the questions. The first block is standard medical history stuff, but the following two pages are all about sex. History, interests, anxieties… I’m almost frightened to think what Haley’s devilish inclinations will do with all this info.
“Is… is all this really necessary?” I ask, though of course I know what the answer will be.
“I’m afraid for the purposes of this experiment we need a rather complete profile of past sexual experiences, your current interests, and anything you prefer to avoid. Please make your answers as accurate as possible.” She reaches into the pocket of her lab coat, pulls out a tape measure. “If you’d like to use this for the measurement questions…”
“No, no, I’m OK.” I turn my attention back to the form. As nervous as I am, I’m also pretty turned on. Haley is really playing up the cool detachment, and I squirm uncomfortably as I realize that as soon as I hand back the clipboard she’ll see that I’m fully erect. It’s just one more piece of information I won’t be able to avoid giving her.
Finally I sign my name and I’m done. I hand the clipboard back to her. She looks at my erection, then looks up into my eyes, inclining her head a little to show she’s taken note, but not smiling or otherwise changing her expression. My stomach lurches a little and I try to swallow the lump in my throat.
“This way,” she says, walking around the medical screen and into the room. I follow her. In the center of the room is Haley’s massage table covered by a white sheet, set up next to her filing cabinet and some other furniture. “Please lie down, face up, with your knees at the lower edge of the table.”
In a moment I’ve complied and she’s opened the top drawer of filing cabinet. She comes out with several large elastic bandages and a roll of bandage tape. “To avoid compromising the results of the experiment, we need to restrict your movements somewhat. You agreed to this in the form you just signed, but many subjects seem to miss it. Please reach back and place your forearms together under the table.” I do as she asks. She pulls up a step stool and begins to wind the bandages around my forearms, over and over, covering my hands in the bargain, then she tapes everything off with multiple loops of tape. When she’s done, I’m effectively immobilized against the table. I can’t sit up and I can’t move my arms more than a few inches. She goes back to the cabinet, brings out more bandages, and goes to work on my legs. In moments, my calves are bound immobile to the legs of the massage table.
She walks around the table inspecting her handiwork. My erection is straining painfully towards my stomach, the only part of me still free but just as unable to do anything as the rest of me.
Finally, she picks up the clipboard and is jotting a note as she asks me “Are your arms or legs in any discomfort?”
“No, but another part of me is.”
She looks over at me, her gaze still icy, then goes back to the clipboard. “Yes, I’ve noted that. This experiment involves testing sexual arousal and response, and I’m afraid you may experience some discomfort as part of the process. However, I’ll be giving you something shortly that should alleviate the discomfort you are feeling now.”
She puts down the clipboard and goes back to the drawer. “I need to make sure your arms and legs are comfortable, because verbal communication might affect the experiment in unpredictable ways, so we will need to make sure you to remain silent.” She turns around and she is holding a ball gag. My eyes go wide.
“Uh, I’m not really sure…”
“The form you signed gives us permission to do this. However, if you’d like to opt out of the experiment altogether, let me know now and we’ll line up our next subject.”
Shit. Really, Haley? It’s all or nothing? I’m not really surprised. I just wonder how serious she is about the “next subject”. She’s obviously put a lot of thought into this and is getting into it herself too, way more than she would if it was only for my benefit. And I wouldn’t put it past her to seek out somebody else if I balked. Our relationship is only occasionally monogamous.
“No, I’m OK. Go ahead.”
“All right. Open, please.”
She fits the ball gag in place, fastens it behind my head. I’m scared but more aroused than ever. Up to this point I’ve just been sort of assuming this was going to be sex with fantasy elements, but as she secures the gag and cuts off my ability to protest, it occurs to me she might have something else entirely planned. How far will she take this? Needles? Scalpels? My balls shrivel at the thought, but my hard on rages. I mostly trust Haley – but not completely.
It’s too late now. I’m unable to resist in any way. Haley goes to the drawer, takes out a large box of condoms, and puts it on the stool next to the table. Then she pulls on a pair of latex exam gloves. Finally she comes over to the table, holding a small tube of what looks like some kind of cream or ointment.
“Today we are testing the effects of this new topical anesthetic cream as a sexual medication. We’re going to skip the protocol for testing its effect on achieving erection, since you are clearly past the point where we could get any useful data from that. So we’ll move directly on the to stimulation testing part of the experiment.”
She takes my cock gently in her gloved hand, and looks up into my eyes. “I need to prepare your penis by moistening it to speed absorption of the cream. This is just the most efficient way to do that.” With that, the takes the head of my penis into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it and over the tip. I groan into to the ball gag with the sensation, and then groan even louder as she slides more of my length into her mouth and down over her tongue. I suck in a deep breath with the sheer pleasure of the sensation, but just that quickly it’s over. I’m out of her mouth, glistening and harder than ever.
I feel like I could almost cry as she walks over to the cabinet and makes a note on her clipboard. She comes back, opens the tube and squeezes some of the cream out onto her gloved hand. She then smoothes the cream all over my cock with quick, delicate strokes, and begins to stroke me gently to rub the cream in. I start to writhe against the table with the pleasure of it. But again, it’s over much too quickly.
My cock does feel a little weird – there some kind of a tingling, pins-and-needles sensation. She takes a condom out of the box, rips open the wrapper, and rolls it down over my hard shaft. “It will take a couple of minutes for the cream to be fully absorbed,” she says. “We’ll use condoms to make sure the researcher’s sensitivity to critical parts of your arousal are not blocked by exposure to the cream.” She pulls off the exam gloves and drops them in the wastebasket.
Haley goes to the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet for the first time. As she bends over, I get my first glimpse of what’s under her lab coat and my eyes go wide. Her white stockings are topped with red lace and held up by a white garter belt. She’s not wearing panties, and the round globes of her ass make a perfect heart that ends at the bottom with her plump pussy lips, already glistening with dew between the tops of the stockings. She stands up and turns around, holding what looks like a digital clock.
“We’ll be using this device to regulate time during the experiment. It’s a combination metronome and stopwatch.” She sets the device on top of the cabinet, then turns back to me and begins unbuttoning her lab coat. “The cream should be completely absorbed by now. The first phase of the experiment calls for me to administer thirty strokes at four seconds each and then test your ability to achieve orgasm.” The lab coat is hanging open now. She wears a white cupless bra that pushes her breasts up but leaves her erect nipples bare. The slim strip of pubic hair over her pussy is framed by the garter belt and garters and the red lace stocking tops that match her fuck-me pumps. She presses a button on the device, and the number 15 appears on the display and begins counting down.
She reaches up and unclasps the clip holding her hair up. She gives her head a shake and her locks tumbles down around her shoulders, giving her a wanton, disheveled look. “The experiment begins in 15 seconds,” she announces, as she comes over to the table, steps up on the step stool and swings one leg over me, then sits, straddling my thighs. She leans forward, her nipples right in my face, looking so delectable but so out of reach. With one hand she reaches back and guides the head of my cock to the cleft between her pussy lips. She glances back over her shoulder at the clock. Five, four, three, two, one…
There’s a loud beep and she pushes back and my cock slides into her waiting wetness. My loudest groan yet meets the gag. She sits up, looking down at me, still wearing the glasses, and very slowly begins to raise herself up off of me, until I’m almost ready to fall out of her, but then there’s a loud click from the clock thing and she begins to settle herself back down onto my shaft. I push back into her, feeling like I’m about to lose my mind, and her weight settles on me completely just as another beep comes from the clock. “One”, it says in an electronic voice.
Suddenly I realize what I’m in for. She’s sliding up again – two seconds up, two seconds down – thirty times! The slowness of the movement feels excruciating and fantastic at the same time. I don’t know how I’m going to take much more of it. Slowly she slides up and back, and I can see now her eyes are closed, she’s flushed, and she looks like the sexiest woman who ever straddled a man. My penis surges once, but just once, and I realize the cream is doing it’s work. Even though I feel like I’m going to explode at any second, the actual orgasm doesn’t arrive. A look of intense pleasure and focus is on her face as she times her undulations perfectly to the clicking and beeping of the metronome.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour but was measurably much less, it counts off twenty-nine, then thirty. She eases herself up off of me, plants one red pump on the step stool and dismounts. She pulls the condom off, looks at it, then at me. “No semen,” she says, “so the protocol says I attempt to induce orgasm orally for thirty seconds.” With that, my cock is in her mouth, and she’s sucking me wildly, stroking and pumping me, trying to get me to empty my balls down her throat. My hips buck off the table and I grunt into the gag, but she doesn’t relent in the least. Now I feel like I really am losing my mind, but I don’t come, and exactly thirty seconds later, she stops. She looks up at me, wiping her mouth off on the back of her hand. She takes another condom from the box, slides it down over my cock, which is practically turning purple. Then she goes back over to the cabinet, makes a note on the clipboard and presses another button on the gizmo.
“The next phase calls for forty stokes at two seconds each.”
I really try to break free now, shaking my head, yanking at my arms, but she doesn’t mind me in the least. When the timer beeps again she’s astride my tortured cock, riding me again, but twice as fast, up and down, up and down, every second. I lay back and take it as the clock counts off another forty strokes. She pulls the condom off and puts me in her mouth, begins sucking me like crazy. I’ve never wanted to come so badly in my entire life.
But I can’t, and thirty seconds later I do cry a few tears as she abandons my dick to make another notation on her clipboard. She glances back over her shoulder at me. The lab coat has ridden up over her ass cheeks, and she looks sexy and adorable and utterly implacable all at once. She gives me the briefest glimmer of a smile, the only thing close to a friendly look I’ve had all evening.
“Next phase is sixty strokes at one second each, Mr. Hollis. I hope you’re ready.”
One second each is close to the usual speed that she rides me when she’s on top, and this time she gets into a real rhythm. She’s totally in control, taking pleasure from me, and as agonizing as it is, I’m giving it to her. At first I’d thought the idea of the cream was pretty cool, but by now I’m beginning to feel like it must have been invented by Satan himself. After riding me for one more minute, and teasing my poor cock with her mouth for another half a minute, she announces the next phase will be eighty strokes at half a second each.
I’m sweating by now and so is she as she rides me at the demonic speed called out by the electronic timer. The table shakes as she pounds her ass down on me, humping my still rigid cock in time to the frantic beeping and ticking of the gadget. After it calls out the last stroke, there’s renewed enthusiasm as she rips off the condom, sucks, strokes, and tries her hardest to get me off. But when the thirty seconds are over, I am still not finished off.
Her look is unreadable as she glances up at me. “There’s one more protocol to follow. I didn’t think we’d need to use it, but the substance we’re testing has exceeded expectations.” She goes to the filing cabinet and takes out another tube, but this one is regular lube. She presses a button on the timer and it began counting backwards from sixty. She comes to the table again, but this time turns back to face the cabinet before mounting me. Facing away, she leans towards my knees, opens the tube of lubricant and positions it between the cleft of her ass cheeks. She squeezes, and I watch enrapt as a thick rivulet of lube runs down over the pucker of her asshole and her already slick pussy lips. With one finger, she rubs it around, then positions the head of my cock at the tight ring of her back entrance. When the timer beeps she pushes hard, gasps, pushes back, wiggles, pushes down, whimpers, and then I am parting her, opening her, inside her. She squeezes me tight, riding slowly up and down, counting out the strokes in a voice thickened by passion.
She is just getting to ten when I roar into the gag and come and come and come.
She stays on me and with me for every last spasm, riding every last thrust, squeezing every last drop. Then she slides me slowly out of her, gently removes the condom and throws it away, and goes over and makes a note on her clipboard. Then without another look, she disappears behind the screen and leaves the room.
When she returns, her lab coat is buttoned up, her hair is back in its bun, and she has my clothes in a neat pile. She sets them on the stool, produces a pair of surgical scissors, and proceeds to cut me out of my bandages, finishing up by removing the ball gag. She puts everything back into the filing cabinet as I dress, then walks me to the front door.
As I turn to go, I lean in to kiss her, but she pulls back. She extends a hand instead and I shake it. “Thank you for your time today, Mr. Hollis,” she says, and I struggle in vain to find the hint of a smile, a wrinkle in her facade.
“Is that really all you’ve got to say?”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “Without volunteers like you, scientific progress would not be possible. We really do appreciate your help. But we’re done here for the day.” She opens the door, shows me out.
I stand on the step as the darkness gathers, just looking at the closed door for a few minutes. It’s hard to describe how I feel. The fantasy was great, the sex out of this world, but the way Haley behaved towards me the whole time… It was perfect, but now I feel kind of lonely, kind of sad. After a while, I turn and walk down the steps. I head down the street, thinking about where I might be able to stop in and have a drink.
“Scott!”
I turn back. Haley is running down the street. She’s dressed in jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt, her hair loose. She catches up to me, slips her arms around my waist and pulls me close for a scorching, passionate kiss. She breaks it, then whispers in my ear, “Wait until I tell you about this guy who came into the lab today.”
I pull back, smiling in spite of myself. Haley’s practically glowing in the twilight and her eyes are all mischief, no malice. “Can’t wait to hear about it,” I chuckle. “How about over dinner?”
“Great!” she says, and her smile lights up the street better than all the streetlights put together.
Yeah. Just great.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/j0juta/science_mfmedical_kink