clinical-trials-pt-04-breeder-bitch
ADULT BDSM

Clinical Trials Pt 04 Breeder Bitch

Clinical Trials Pt 04 Breeder Bitch

by greta_dulac
10 min read
4.68 (5500 views)
adultfiction
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I winced as a sharp pain shot up my pussy and into my stomach. The Doctor had clamped down on my labia with some sort of small device. I sucked the air in through my teeth as I realized the pressure was not going to dissipate. I then felt a pull, a mercifully slow pull, as he fixed whatever was linked to this clamp to the adjacent strap buckled around my thigh. Fuck this hurt. He repeated the steps in a similar spot on my other lip, and four more followed suit, opening my outer labia up entirely.

"Doctor... this is a little painful. Is it supposed to be painful?" I didn't want him to think I was fighting his treatment already but hoped maybe he could adjust somehow. My legs were tense in the stirrups. I was at least grateful I wasn't restrained to them this time.

"I can see how it would be uncomfortable for you. For normal girls it wouldn't be like this but you're already fairly swollen and sensitive. Again, that kind of thing shouldn't be happening so fast. But just hang in there. This won't take long."

"What does this treatment do exactly?" I tried my best to relax, to ignore the dull ache of the clamps with any kind of distraction.

His eyes breached the blanket on my lap that was dividing us and I could tell he was smiling, excited by the question. "This is actually one of my favorite steps in the whole process. You'll get to see how you're stronger than you think. This one is very empowering for girls like you."

His finger slipped into me and my hips twitched involuntarily. "Fuck!" I exclaimed, startled, as my thigh movements pulled at my skin sharply. I tried to quickly settle myself but the pulls and tugs only compounded as I tried to stabilize. I felt like a wild horse, hobbled when I needed to buck.

He placed his palm gently on my lower stomach and pressed into my erratic movements. "For this kind of treatment, it helps if you move as little as possible." He held me firmly with one hand as a finger from the other dipped into me again. This time he was able to keep me still under his pressure, stabilizing the tugs somewhat. I understood a little more; do not fucking move, Greta.

His finger circled the delicate folds of my inner lips. I tensed my abdomen and gripped my hands. If he was going to repeat last week's treatment with this torture device, this was going to be a hard exercise indeed. The precision of his touch was getting me very wet, despite the dull ache of the pinching. But his palm was stabilizing, almost calming. I focused on staying still, just letting his finger do all the moving. This would be hard, but I was determined to let him treat me.

I felt another clamp, this time a smaller clamp, bite down on the soft, wet tissues of those tiny folds. My entire body tensed and my face twisted as he proceeded to pull my inner lips open in the same way he'd done with my arguably meatier outer labia.

"Oh my god," I whispered to myself. The line between discomfort and something really fucking unthinkable was too precarious. "Are you going to tear me, Doctor?" I draped my arm over my eyes and tried to relocate my shallow breathing into my core.

"Will I tear you?" he asked, as he secured the last clamp to my thigh. "I'm not the one in a position to tear you. Your skin is perfectly taught, not one angle pulling more than any other. As long as you're able to keep still, to keep calm, the only discomfort you'll have are these small little pinches, just like we discussed. It's you who could potentially make this harder."

I thought about maneuvering myself out of the stirrups, how I could just stop all of this and just leave.

"I want you to see," he said calmly, almost zen-like. I didn't get out of the stirrups. I looked up at him instead, helpless.

"I've got you," he whispered as he bent toward me and wrapped his arms around me tenderly. He guided me up onto my elbows first. Only small tugs from small movements, thankfully. He removed the blanket from my lap and again pressed a stabilizing hand on my abdomen while he steered me further to an upright position with his other on the small of my back.

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I was doing everything I could to not move or shift my hips, so I hunched over myself and strained to see the small hand mirror he'd held up for me. I knew I couldn't hold this position for long but I wanted to comply.

I looked hard at my reflection with some shock. My once beautifully pink and pampered pussy was instead swollen and bruising, fileted open and stretched by the small chains attaching the clamps to the thigh straps. I was wet, but I wasn't soft and inviting, as I was used to capturing in my sexting photos. I was instead dripping with a long string of drool.

"What do you see, Greta?"

My body was tense from holding the impossible position but I stayed upright. My cheeks turned hot again but I told him the truth. "I don't like how it looks, Doctor. It looks...vulgar, if I'm being honest."

He laughed and sounded surprised. "Such a perfect word, Greta. Good job. Do you know where that word you chose comes from?" I did not.

"It means 'of the people', specifically 'common' people. Like an unrefined mob. I couldn't think of a more perfect word for your pussy actually."

The Doctor took out a small, curved vibrator and slipped it into me. He explored for a few moments before settling the angled tip exactly on that spot, that one specific spot inside me that seemed to cause all my fucking problems. I anxiously tensed and expelled a small whimper. The impossibility of what was clear the Doctor needed me to do sunk me into a low panic.

"You see, your pussy is nothing special. Its wants and needs are all too common, vulgar, as you say. You can hide behind fancy lingerie and your weird grooming, but this is you. Your pussy, just like this, is you. And the sooner you understand the true you, the sooner you will get better, Greta."

He unceremoniously switched on the vibrator. The low rumble and his pressure ignited my G-spot and my whimper turned into a cry. I was still hunched and tensed into an uncomfortable angle but was now too compromised to move. I braced myself with every muscle in my body to keep my hips from responding to the intense sensations inside of me. It was too much. I couldn't even describe the vibrations as pleasurable; they were ominous, foreboding.

"Please, Doctor. I'll be good. I'll do whatever you need. Please don't hurt me." I was crying and shaking my head as he moved into me, between my legs. He wrapped his free arm up my back and pulled me close into his chest.

I felt the vibrator switch up another gear. My legs twitched involuntarily and my left thigh yanked one of the larger clamps clean off my labia, snapping my swollen skin sharply. I let out an anguished cry, a gasp so big, but he held onto me tighter and kept my body from reacting further.

My legs were shaking uncontrollably but the sharpness of the freed clamp was giving way to the tension building up in my pussy from the vibrator. I pressed into his chest, my tears wetting his neck and his mouth pressed against my ear.

"You're doing such a good job, Greta." His whisper was gruff and low, his breathing heavy and labored. "You don't need to hump like a wild dog, see? You don't need to ache and grab at silly things to get yourself off. You just need to let go. Just let the world extract what it needs from vulgar girls like you."

I cried into him harder and circled my arms around his chest, grabbing the shirt on his back and tensing around him as much as I could.

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"Look at me and tell me what you want. Tell me to stop and I'll stop." He ran his hand into my hair and up my scalp and gently pulled my head back to meet his gaze. The vibrator pulsed relentlessly inside me and every muscle in my body was tensed on the precipice of a huge release.

I closed my eyes and let my tears fall fast. I knew that if I orgasmed, the clamps would pull. They would snap, maybe even tear. It would be an unimaginable pain. I also knew, deeply, that there was no part of me that was going to tell him to stop.

"You have to look at me and say it, Greta. Let yourself go." And I opened my eyes and pressed my face into him, nodding. "Please make me cum, Doctor."

The intensity of the vibrator kicked up into its highest setting and he circled the pressure into the soft flesh, that tiny button of tenderness that he somehow knew so intimately. He worked into me as he held me tighter, our faces pressed against each other, both panting into each other's ears.

"Good girl," he hummed. "Cum for me. Cum for me now."

And as soon as I heard 'now' my entire body filled with the tension of the orgasm, my skin standing on edge and my back arching into his firm embrace. My hips rolled instinctively and two more clamps were wrenched from my skin sharply. The blinding pain made me see stars but only pooled into the release, a ferocious wave that rippled from my scalp, down my spine, and into my legs. Another clamp was pinching at the tip of my skin, threatening to snap at any moment.

But I let the release just spill out of me. Wetness dripped from my pussy, and all the tortuously pent up tension washed away like out from a shoreline.

I heaved into his chest, my skin beaded with sweat as I panted in his arms.

"Oh good girl," he repeated into my ear as his fingers ran up my scalp, massaging good sensations into my body. The euphoria of the moment swirled around me. "Good girl, Greta. I knew you'd do it." And the vibrator slipped out from me and the room was left thick with our breath and the clock once again ticking away in the silence.

I titled my head back to gaze into him deeply with my exhausted, hazy eyes. I understood why the beautiful woman had been so enthralled, so relaxed with him. I wanted him to never look away.

And he looked back at me deeply, taking in my eyes and the pleasure that must have softened my entire face. I felt limp and pliable in his arms. His fingers continued to massage my scalp, running slowly and purposefully, up and down, with increasing intensity. My head wobbled in his grip as he grinned at me with a look of pride.

And then I felt his hand circle a large tuft of my hair. Through the fog of the moment, I felt his other fingers twist into the remaining chains clamped to my lips. My eyes widened as a reaction jumped to my mouth. And in one synchronous move, he pulled my head back violently, ripping the remaining clamps from my abused and tender pussy like a stuck zipper. "Doctor!!" I cried out, instantly throbbing from the pain and his betrayal.

He once again bent down into my ear but his soft whisper was now a seething declaration:

"I've got you now, Breeder Bitch!"

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