The Lesbian Debt (Chapter 3) - The Mayim Clinic
Normally Laura and Erica did everything together - parties, clubbing, shopping, even doctors' appointments. For Laura to be out at night without her lover was unusual to say the least, and for it to come up at short notice was suspicious.
She decided to stick close to the truth.
"I got a job offer," she told Erica as they sat on the couch that afternoon. It was a Sunday, the end of the weekend, and Sunday afternoons and evenings were usually reserved for watching television on the couch, a home-cooked dinner, and then passionate lovemaking till they fell asleep.
"You didn't tell me you were looking for new jobs," said Erica suspiciously.
"I told you I wasn't getting paid enough at my work didn't I?" replied Laura. "I mentioned to people that if they knew of anything better, they should let me know, and then just now this came out. It's a clerical assistant at some kind of research clinic. It's night work, which sucks, but I should at least go and interview for it, right?"
Laura could see that Erica was torn. She didn't like the idea of losing her lover to work in the evenings, but the idea of Laura earning a bit more and relying less on Erica's paycheck was attractive. Laura helped her make up her mind by leaning in, kissing Erica on the lips, and starting to gently rub Erica's tits. She knew Erica couldn't think properly when she was horny.
"It'll be fine," Laura whispered between kisses. "I'll get paid more, and I promise I'll still fuck you when I come home. I'll wake you up and then fuck you, if you've fallen asleep. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Laura's hand was inside Erica's shirt now, lightly pinching her nipples, and Erica was breathing heavily and was flushed.
"Yes," gasped Erica.
"So it's okay, right?" asked Laura, nibbling at Erica's neck and massaging her breasts.
"Yes," replied Erica.
And just like that, it was settled.
The Mayim Clinic was a modern-looking professional building on the outskirts of the city centre. It was built low to the ground, had an attractively landscaped garden, and looked for all the world like a suburban doctor's surgery. At 6 pm it was already getting dark, but the Clinic grounds were well lit. Laura entered through sliding glass doors, and was impressed by a relaxing and well-furnished foyer overseen by a pretty female receptionist. Laura told the receptionist she was here for an appointment, and hoped that someone knew she was coming. The receptionist just told her to take a seat and wait.
Laura hadn't known how to dress; she'd settled on a business suit with a short, professional skirt. She'd thought about how her blackmailer had wanted her topless in front of her computer, and wondered if maybe he wanted her to wear something slutty. On the other hand, he'd been fairly explicit about his other demands, and if he'd wanted Laura to further humiliate herself, surely he would have said something. She wasn't going to demean herself more than she had to.
"He." She thought about that as she waited. She had assumed her blackmailer was a male. People who abused women were so often men, right? But she supposed it could be a woman. As she thought it, she felt a little glow of warmth between her legs, and blushed. What was that about? Was she getting wet at the thought of being blackmailed and humiliated by a woman? She squeezed her thighs together tightly and tried to think about something else. And she decided she'd call her abuser "he" in future, to stop that thought occurring again.
Laura didn't have to wait long. It had been barely ten minutes when a woman in a labcoat emerged from a doorway and strode into the waiting room, accompanied by two teenagers, also in lab coats.
"Hi, Laura," said the lead woman, extending her hand. "I'm Dr Tara Windred. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Laura shook the hand. Dr Windred appeared to be in her late 30s. She was massively buxom - Laura estimated she must be at least an E cup - but nevertheless looked both intelligent and professional. She had black hair, pulled back in a bun, and elegant square-frame glasses. Her labcoat was open at the front, revealing a purple turtleneck sweater that accentuated her bosom by clinging and straining across its curves.
Dr Windred beamed at Laura. "These are my assistants, Amy and Royce. They're here on work experience, but they know the ropes."
Amy was a pretty, willowy girl with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and an enticing smile, exactly the sort of girl that Laura found most attractive. Laura felt herself blushing as she said hello to Amy.
On the other hand, Royce was tall and fit with thick brown hair and well-trimmed but adolescent beard. He didn't smile at Laura, and didn't say anything, only nodding briefly to acknowledge her presence.
"Dr Windred," said Laura, after she'd greeted the two assistants, "I have to say, I'm not actually sure what I'm supposed to be helping you with here." She tensed up inside. She still somehow felt that this was going to turn out to be a brothel or a strip club, despite all the evidence to the contrary.
"Research," replied Dr Windred. "Were you not told? You'll be a participant in a study we're conducting. It's very generous of you to have volunteered; from what I hear, you're exactly what we're looking for." She smiled. "Look, how about you go through to the prep room with Amy, and get ready, and then come to me in my office and I'll tell you what it's all about."
Laura was far from reassured, but Amy was already leading Laura to the door at the back of the reception, and Laura didn't want to embarass herself in front of the cute blonde girl, so she allowed herself to be led away. She saw Dr Windred and Royce heading for another door, and then she was out of reception and in a hallway.
The hallway further reinforced Laura's earlier impression of a doctor's surgery. It was clean, sterile and functional, without appearing cold or frightening in any way. It was painted in warm colours, with several doors leading off it. Amy took her to one such door, and together they entered, revealing what appeared to be a consultation room, with a bed, a privacy screen, chairs, a desk, and a sink.
"Okay," said Amy. "We'll need to get you prepped. Could you take off your clothes, please?"
Laura felt her heart sink. "My clothes?" she asked. Amy hadn't even closed the door to the room.
"Those clothes aren't suitable for the work tonight. You'll need to take them off." Amy followed Laura's gaze to the open door, and rolled her eyes. "I'll close this, if it helps," she said, and closed the door.
Laura fidgeted awkwardly. She didn't know these people, and she didn't know what was going to happen tonight. Dr Windred had seemed nice, and this place seemed completely legitimate. On the other hand, why did she need to change? She didn't want to take off her clothes, especially in front of a pretty girl like Amy. (Well, actually, she absolutely DID want to take off her clothes in front of a pretty girl like Amy, but only if Amy was going to do it too. And besides, she was supposed to be faithful to Erica.)
As she thought about, she began to think of many reasons why she might need to change. They might need to measure her fitness, and she'd need to change into exercise clothes. Or they might be conducting a medical examination. Or they might be worried about getting a chemical or something onto Laura's nice clothes. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed a completely reasonable request, if she was going to be taking part in research, to change out of her clothes.
"Okay," she said. "Just a minute." She shuffled behind the large privacy screen in the corner of the room, and began to undress. She remvoed her high heels, and her jacket and shirt, and her skirt, and then paused.
"Underwear too?" she called out. "Yes," replied Amy. Blushing, Laura pulled her panties down her legs, and then unhooked and removed her bra. She was completely naked, in a strange place. She felt vulnerable and embarassed.
She felt even more embarassed when, without warning, Amy walked around the side of the screen and began collecting Laura's discarded clothes.
"Um..." said Laura. But Amy clearly wasn't worried about seeing a naked girl. She practically ignored Laura's nude body, focusing instead on gathering up all of Laura's outfit and butting it into a medical-looking plastic bag.
"Okay," she said when she was done. "Now let's go see Dr Windred."
What did she mean? She was going to take Laura to Dr Windred naked? She couldn't do that!
"Don't I get some other clothes?" she asked. "Or a medical gown?"
"No, you won't need that," said Amy. She opened the door of the room, and waited near it. "Come on. After you."
It was awkward. What was Laura supposed to do? Amy had her clothes, and there was nothing else to cover herself with. She realised now that her phone, wallet and car keys were in the pocket of her jacket. No one knew where she was, and she couldn't contact anyone. Nothing was going to happen if she just refused to move. She could kick up a fuss, but what if they wouldn't let her do the research? Her blackmailer would know, surely, and then he'd use that knife on Laura. Or on Erica.
It wasn't too bad, surely. Amy wasn't exactly raping Laura with her eyes. And it was pleasantly warm in the Clinic, even nude. Still blushing, Laura made her decision, and quickly walked past Laura into the corridor, unsuccessfully trying to cover her tits, her pussy and her ass with her hands all at the same time.
Dr Windred's office turned out to be only a couple of doors down. Laura scooted in as soon as Amy opened the door, and took a seat in a lush leather chair. The leather immediately stuck to her bare skin in an unpleasant way. A few moments later, the door opened again and Dr Windred entered. Laura looked around and was grateful to see that Royce was nowhere to be seen.
Dr Windred sat across from Laura, and looked at the nude girl. "That looks much better, Laura," she said, smiling. "All right, let me tell you what you've volunteered for."
She pulled a file out of her desk, looked at it briefly, and then looked back at Laura. "Here at the Mayim Clinic, we're a private institute funded by a range of patrons to perform research into a range of medical, psychological, sociological and psychiatric areas. The study you're signed up for is assigned the name Valkyrie. It's funded by a coalition of conservative and religious groups, and its main aim is to develop techniques to cure lesbianism and rehabilitate lesbians into pro-social sexual and behavioural patterns."
Laura blanched. The idea was abhorrent. Lesbianism couldn't be cured; it was the way she was born. And she didn't want to be cured, even if it was possible. She felt herself tensing up in the chair, and realised that at least part of her was preparing to flee the office.
Dr Windred laughed. "Oh, don't get so worried. No one's ever had success with this, and we're not expecting to have any either. But we're funded, so we do the research. I know you're a lesbian - that's why you're suitable for the program - and I know you're a strong willed woman who'll fight for your sexuality. Don't stress about it. Just do the tests, go through the motions, and have a good laugh at the stupid people wasting their money on trying to cure you."
Laura relaxed a little. It was true - she'd never heard of anyone "curing" lesbianism, and certainly not in someone who didn't want to be cured.
"You're going to come here every weeknight, for about two to three hours, at least at first," Windred continued. "Down the track it'll be less often, maybe as little as once a week. You'll be paid weekly for your participation - the money will go into your sponsor's nominated account, and it's between you and your sponsor how that's distributed."
Sponsor, noted Laura. She assumed that was her blackmailer.
"This week we're just going to do tests on you and find out your baseline responses to stimuli," said Windred. "Starting next week, you'll have specific tasks to do, both at the Clinic and at home. Now, I understand that you're already in a stable sexual relationship with a woman?"
Laura nodded.
"Well, we recommend you don't tell her about the testing, at least at first. Women can get upset if they think their lesbian partner is trying to cure her lesbianism, and the kind of stress resulting from that can upset our study. Just tell her you're working here at the Clinic, or whatever else suits you."
I'm already way ahead on that, Laura thought wryly.
"All right, now, we're going to start with this." Dr Windred stood up and pulled something out of a desk drawer. It was a syringe. Laura felt herself tensing up again.
Dr Windred approached her. "We're going to be measuring your sexual responses, so this is just a little stimulant to arouse you." She reached down and cupped Laura's left breast. Laura didn't feel okay about this at all, but the recent mention of her "sponsor" had reminded her of the consequences of not going along with this research. And then, before Laura could react further, Dr Windred pushed the syringe into Laura's tit.
The pain was sudden and surprising. Laura howled and bucked in the chair. But Dr Windred was already pulling the syringe out, now empty.
"There you go, Laura," she was saying. "You should start to feel a little tingle in your pussy soon. In future you'll have this drug in pill form, so you can take a couple before leaving home and be in the right mood when you get here. But obviously tonight you couldn't have known, so we're just goosing you a little with this shot."
Windred was right; Laura could feel her groin warming up. She was aware of her nipples hardening, and her twat becoming engorged. What was this stuff? Some kind of Viagra for women? Laura felt her cheeks beginning to redden with arousal. She tried to fight it. She was already naked in front of strange people; did she have to become aroused as well? No one had ever seen her naked and aroused before except for Erica. And now two people were seeing it at once, both of them attractive. The thought of Amy in particular made Laura's cunt twitch happily, and she slammed her thighs together as tight as they would go to try and make it stop.
Amy stood behind Laura, and put a hand on Laura's shoulder. Laura tingled at the touch.
"Come with me now, and we'll get you started."
Following Amy required another embarrassing trip into the hallway. Once again Laura dashed from room to room, and once again as far as she could tell no one saw her.
The next room was dominated by a large and unusual chair in the middle of the room. It was raised up from the ground on a short pole, so that a person sitting in it would be considerably higher than they would in a normal chair. It was mainly made of moulded plastic, but there were soft cushions in along the backrest and on parts of the seat. A holes were cut out of the bottom seat, and Laura realised uncomfortably that it was in the right position to allow access to the user's anus. The front of the seat stoppped shorter than that of a normal seat, providing access to the groin, and two separate leg-rests extended away from the chair, that could clearly be swivelled and separated, to spread the sitter's legs. Each of the leg rests terminated in a cuff, obviously intended to restrain the legs. Similar cuffs featured on each of the arm rests.
Across from the chair, and facing it, one wall was dominated by what appeared to be a cinema-style projection screen.
"Take a seat, Laura," said Amy. Unhappily, Laura climbed into the chair. It felt odd to be sitting and at the same time have her anus exposed. It reminded her of sitting on a toilet seat, except more comfortable, and - due to the armrests and backrest - somehow more intimate.
As she had feared, once Laura was seated, Amy buckled Laura's wrists and ankles into the cuffs, securing Laura in the seat. She also reached down towards Laura's lap, and buckled a hitherto-unnoticed seatbelt-like strap across Laura's waist, with the result that Laura's ass and groin were trapped securely against the seat. Laura could feel herself getting worried, tensing up involuntarily. She didn't want to do this. She wanted to go home and kiss Erica, and pretend none of this was happening.
But that choice wasn't available, even if Laura wasn't now strapped in. The image of the knife hovered in Laura's mind. She had to continue on.
Laura's fears only intensified when Amy walked to a drawer at the side of the room and pulled out two plastic devices. Laura wasn't an innocent; they were clearly dildos. She started to struggle a little. Amy just said, "Hush," and knelt on the floor next to the chair. Laura couldn't see what she was doing down there because of the position she was trapped in, so the next thing she knew was the feeling of a finger at her anuse, smearing something wet and sticky around her asshole.
"What are you doing?" Laura asked, louder than she had intended. She could feel the sphincter of her anus tightening as tight as it would go, trying to protect itself against the finger.
"Hush," said Amy again. "Don't worry, it's just a little bump, it won't even penetrate." And with that, she pushed the smaller of the two dildos through the hole in the chair and towards Laura's ass, before locking it into place through some process that Laura couldn't see, but which made an audible "click".
Amy was right; the dildo didn't penetrate Laura's ass, for which she was grateful. She'd never enjoyed anal penetration. The device was really only a little bump. It pressed noticeably against the entrance to her ass, and when Laura relaxed against the chair it was just long enough to probe the anal sphincter and force it open a little. It was uncomfortable and strange, but not painful.
The other dildo was a different matter. Amy stood up, and moved to stand in front of Laura. She swung the two leg restraints outwards, spreading Laura's legs wide open, and she stood betwen Laura's feet holding the other, larger dildo.
She looked down at Laura's cunt. "I see you don't need any lubricant here." She was right. Much to Laura's humiliation, her pussy was puffy and wet and pouting. When Amy leaned down and pushed the dildo into Laura's cunt, it slid right in on the first try. Laura was unable to stop herself making a little slutty moan as it slipped inside her. She heard another "click" as Amy secured the dildo to the chair, locking it in place. Laura was now able to buck her hips a little, back and forth against the dildo, if she tried, but she couldn't move so as to get it entirely out of her. The dildo had a secondary phlange near its based that lined up vertically with Laura's pussy slit; the tip of it was textured with little bumps and rested against Laura's clitoris. It appeared to be spring loaded; even when Laura backed off from the dildo as far as she could go, the flange followed, maintaining pressure against her clit.
There was another "click" as Amy flipped a switch, and suddenly the dildo in Laura's pussy began to vibrate.
Laura could barely even pay attention to what Amy was doing after that. The drugs she had been given were powerful, and the stimulation in her cunt felt so good. But she was dimly aware of Amy pasting some electrodes onto Laura's forehead, her breasts, and her groin, and attaching them to some kind of computer or terminal. A part of Laura was telling her that she needed to regain control, to keep her dignity, but that little voice was lost in the tide of pleasure coming from her twat. After a few minutes, Laura was making uncontrollable whore-sounds; a few minutes later she was bucking her hips frantically against the dildo. There was something about this that was exciting her vagina in a way that even sex with Erica didn't. Was it the exposure? The humiliation? She told herself it must be the drugs, and then a few minutes later she orgasmed.
It took her long minutes to recover from cumming, as her vision unblurred, her breathing slowed, and she was slowly able to start thinking about things other than her cunny. The first thing her eyes settled on as she sobered up was the thing she had missed when she came into the room - the video camera, mounted on a tripod in the corner, pointed right at her. It had a clear view of her face, of her tits, of her splayed cunt. And the little red light on it showed she was recording. A video had just been made of Laura nude, restrained, and orgasming. She would have blushed if her face was not already so flushed from sexual activity. She briefly tried to struggle, but her hands were still restrained. And for that matter, the dildo in her pussy hadn't stopped humming and vibrating.
Amy was standing right next to Laura, looking down at her. Was it Laura's imagination, or did Amy look a little flushed herself?
"Why..." started Laura, and had to struggle to control her voice. "Why are you doing this?"
"We're testing your baseline sexual reactions," said Amy. "We need to know if you can orgasm - not all girls can, you know - and how fast you orgasm. We want to know what sex does to your heart rate, your body temperature, your breathing. That computer is recording it all. The dildos at your ass and pussy and recording your muscle reactions as well - whenever your cunt squeezes the dildo, it's logged, and whever your anal sphincter tightens, and whenever you buck against either of them. Plus they can record anal and vaginal temperature, lubrication levels - they're really very sensitive."
The vibrator was still pulsing in Laura's cunt, and she could feel herself starting to slowly work up to another orgasm.
"Please," she begged. "This is embarassing."
"Why?" asked Amy. "The only person who's seeing you is me, and I don't mind."
Laura looked at the camera.
"Don't worry about the camera," said Amy vaguely.
"Who will see it?" asked Laura.
"Probably no one," Amy replied.
And then Laura stopped asking questions, because she realised she'd started bucking her hips against the plastic cock again, and the wonderful sensations from that were demanding her attention.
They left her strapped to the chair for two hours, and Laura came five times, each orgasm taking longer to reach than the one before. They released her just before her sixth, and Laura was groggy and confused when the vibrator suddenly deactivated and was slipped from her pussy.
"What?" she said. She became aware she was drooling. She didn't care. "Please...." What was she doing? Please what? Was she begging Amy to let her cum? She shook her head, and swallowed the saliva in her mouth, and tried to clear her mind. She felt Amy unbuckling the ankle restraints, and both the presence and the idea of the attractive girl between her legs was overwhelmingly erotic. She involuntarily bucked her hips again, against a dildo that was no longer there, and felt a little squirt of pussy lubricant squeeze from her cunt. She wanted to clamp her legs around Amy and pull the girl towards her - grab her hair and make the beautiful little tease lick Laura's sopping wet twat until she orgasmed again.
But she did no such thing. She just waited until her arms were released, and staggered to her feet. She felt exhausted and drained. Amy gave her a cup of water to drink, and she almost dropped it, her muscles were so weak. Her body felt strange and shaky. Laura couldn't remember the last time she had had so many orgasms in one session of sex. Maybe never?
Amy was looking at her, expectantly. Laura wasn't sure why. Was there something she was supposed to do? She searched her memory.
"Say thank you," said Amy.
Laura did it without thinking. "Thank you, Amy," she said. And then thought - wait, what? What was she thanking Amy for? For tieing her down? For making her orgasm all those times? For recording it? But it was done now, and Amy was showing Laura to a recovery room.
In the end, they let Laura shower, rinsing the sweat and cunt juices off her body, which felt glorious. Then they gave her back her clothes, which felt strange and heavy now after the time spent naked. Finally, Dr Windred met with Laura and gave her a small bottle of pills.
"These are a pill form of the injection I gave you today. I recommend you take two pills about an hour before coming to the Clinic each day; you don't have to, but otherwise we'll have to give you the syringe when you get here. Please don't stimulate yourself in the hour before coming to the Clinic."
"Stimulate?" asked Laura.
Amy answered. "Don't play with your pussy. No masturbation, no sex. Just for the hour before getting here. That shouldn't be too hard, right?"
Laura agreed that it wouldn't, and, with gratitude, finally left the clinic.
It was only 9.30 pm when she got home. Erica was still up, so Laura wordlessly dragged her lover from the front door to the bedroom, pushed her down onto their shared queen bed, and fucked her. She 69ed her submissive, sexy girlfriend, mercilessly grinding her over-stimulated cunt into Erica's face and licking and biting Erica's cunt so hard that Erica several times moaned in pain. The feeling of Erica moaning into Laura's cunt was pleasurable, so Laura just hurt Erica more, before cumming not once but twice, and then falling into a deep sleep.
(To be continued...)
This story was taken from one these sites, check them out to find more sex stories:
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