Disclaimer: This story involves erotic themes of submission, mind control, drugging and humiliation. Rape is a crime and the author does not condone any sexual activity that occurs without the clear-headed and emphatic consent of all participants. The events of this story take place in a world without sexually transmitted infections -- bodily fluids are freely exchanged and protection is not used. The author encourages safe sex in real life. As always, the characters in this story are fictional and any similarity to people (living or dead), places or events is purely coincidental. Thank you for reading, and please vote and leave comments!
The story so far: Sarah, an undergrad psych student, signs up for a well-paid study at a mysterious clinic. She is quickly brought to heel by the doctor's brutally handsome and dominant assistant, Robert. The doctor, using behavioral conditioning, trains her to experience sexual arousal, pleasure and orgasm when a piece of music is played. In order to hear the music again, Sarah has agreed to stay at the clinic for further testing.
CHAPTER 3: THE TASTE OF SUBMISSION
Dr. Kremis awoke at precisely 6:30 AM, as he did every morning, and performed the rituals to which he religiously adhered.
He slipped into an eggshell shirt, red sanguine tie and a pale brown suit replete with a subtle windowpane pattern. He soothed the salt and pepper scruff on his chin into a neat beard that softened the piercing edge of his dark green eyes. Many scientists might leave the rigour of method at the lab; for Kremis, the instruments of causality and reproducible result were a means to an end, and that end was control and order.
Everywhere the doctor seemed to look, he saw people sick with the chaos of the world, wandering about unsure of where they fit, struggling to find purchase in the moral and social relativism and political correctness of the postwar century. As a young man, he had sought to address the issue of ethical naturalism as a master's student in philosophy, and again as a doctoral student in the psychology of sexual interaction. His reward had been peremptory expulsion from the overstuffed armchairs of academia, his work described by colleagues as prurient at best, and masochistic at worst. Institutions turned their noses up at requests for clinical grants, and continued to fund projects supplying bored and unhappy housewives with euphemistically titled serotonin reuptake inhibitors. Happy pills for the great sea of unhappy people.
Faced with the prospect of playing a portable keyboard in dank subway stations, could anyone really blame for selling his expertise to wealthy donors interested in financing his research? Men and women of influence and affluence the world over fiercely desired the holy grail of sexual companionship -- willing and perfectly legal sex slaves. Kremis, a clinical psychologist and a man of many talents, was in a unique position to deliver such a product. If this was the price to continue his research, then he would gladly pay it.
He expelled a preparatory sigh and exited his room, making his way down the great winding staircase to his office at the rear of the building. The clinic filled a tall stone townhouse built for another century and swiftly transformed into apartments for young professionals. It had been just one of the investments the initial funding had permitted him to acquire. The other was Robert, a registered nurse who had been going entirely to waste at the local University's Health Centre. Within his clinic's walls, the chaos of the outside world could only rattle the windowpanes. Here he was master.
Robert entered, coughing into a balled fist to announce his presence, "Doctor, the two new patients arrive today -- one female, Monique, and one male, David. Did you want to postpone Sarah's testing?"
Kremis eased back in his chair, knitted his fingers into a thoughtful steeple and cracked his knuckles, "No. No, I don't imagine that will be necessary, Robert. I am interested to see if the maons and whimpers of the new patients will have an effect on her. We will continue her tests in the afternoon. Have you fitted her with the biometric collar per our timetable?"
"I did, right before bed," the orderly replied, a sneer tugging at the corner of his lips, "It was just like you said. She put up a real fuss 'til I told her that we'd take it off if she decided to leave. When I fastened the steel collar to her throat, her cheeks flushed and her thighs got real lubed up. She asked for the music, and I watched her fondle the collar several times before she came."
"Excellent, but lets not get ahead of ourselves, Robert. One patient and one test, no matter how responsive or encouraging, does not prove a hypothesis. We have much work left to do, and we must hope that our little Sarah has much, much more left to teach us."
Sarah spent the morning in agony. From her room, she could hear the distant screams, shouts and eventual moans of two other patients being tested. Try as she might to read or watch television, every muffled groan of helpless ecstasy sent alternating shocks of jealousy and arousal up her spine, heated her blood and brought a familiar wetness to her cunt. The doctor had said she would only be the first subject of many, but she found herself hating the attention the voices received. She though she had stayed to hear the music, but to her horror she realized she wanted -- needed even -- the experience of being melted and reforged into a creature of pleasure.
When he entered her room at around three in the afternoon, she rose swiftly to greet him, completely indifferent to her nudity. It was not that she had forgotten to dress that morning, but that she had found, as she pulled a pair of worn jeans over her full, firm ass, that clothing dulled the thrilling sensation of the weighty metal collar around her neck. Robert observed her for a few moments, his dark eyes brazenly appraising the taut curves of her young body. He could hardly believe that she had arrived only days ago wearing a thick sweater that buried any evidence of her pert, sensually upturned breasts. Her hair, a light chestnut brown, had been cut short to show off the collar and gave her an air of youthful innocence sensually adulterated by the undeniably female curvature of her lithe hips.
When he spoke, his tone, cool and derisive, betrayed none of his arousal, "I brought along a paper gown, but since you apparently have lost all modesty -- in under a week no less -- I suppose I'll bring you down to the examination room naked."
Sarah's cheeks reddened with humiliation, and she knew that he was correct. Not only did she not think to cover herself when Robert entered the room, but she had enjoyed the feeling of his eyes roaming across her exposed flesh as if she were livestock at market. She mustered a reserve of rebellious strength and shot back, "You've seen me naked at least a dozen times, I don't see the point -- she was here to enjoy the music and could leave whenever she wanted. They needed her for their experiments as much as she needed them. She determined not to let Robert treat her rudely again.
