Tami enters the “medical erotica” genre

We followed Dr. Harridance back into the bright circular lab.  I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t help myself.  The slight, slender body of the nude 18-year-old-girl was shaking even more than before.  She was gasping, her flat midriff heaving in and out, her toes curling and uncurling below the ankle cuffs.  I can’t deny the fact that I am a human male, and even at my age I found myself feeling some sexual arousal at this powerful sight.  I immediately tried to suppress it.

        Harridance stood in front of the naked, laboring girl, his face maybe only about five feet from hers.  “Miss Smithers?” he said loudly.

        The naked girl opened her eyes and wearily looked up.  I saw her eyes flicking to the four of us and her face twisted again into a rictus of anguish and fear, or at least that’s what it looked like.

        Continuing in his loud voice, Dr. Harridance said, “We will bring you to orgasm now, and then you can rest.  Again, on behalf of myself and the Institute, we thank you very much for your help.”

        Her eyes narrowed as if she was about to cry.

        Harridance motioned to his assistants and I heard the humming sound get a little louder.  The naked girl took in a deep breath and began to moan.  It sounded like a moan of arousal, but also sounded like someone softly weeping.  “Ohhh . . . ohhh . . . ohhh . . .”

        After a few seconds her whole body tensed up suddenly.  She bared her clenched teeth and forced a scream through.  Her pelvis thrust forward -- or at least made the attempt.  Her whole body lurched violently.  I looked down at the “anal monitor” planted in the girl’s delicate lowermost orifice and realized the wisdom of keeping her movements restricted.

        Her eyes widened with urgency as she looked up toward the ceiling.  I thought I detected a hint of that upward anguished look -- “My Lord, Why hast thou forsaken me?” -- that she exhibited during the art class, though this time, her bugged-out eyes made it seem like such a prayer was being shouted -- “MY LORD!!!  WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME??!!!”  Of course,  she was probably not thinking any rational thoughts, being in the grip of an intense orgasm.

        The contractions began with mighty but restrained lurches of her entire body.  The assistants tensely and quickly checked the dials and meters, looked up at the spasming girl, and wrote numbers on their clipboards.  Her body jerked tightly up and out at rhythmic intervals, to the extent allowed by her bonds.  I looked down and saw the anal monitor wiggle violently forward and back, evidently from the rectal contractions.  I took a quick sideways glance at my companions.  Harridance was alertly looking at the girl and then at the dials and and back again.  The Dean and Noyes were simply staring at the nude girl, partly amazed, partly recoiling at the sight.

        Maybe it was just me but this seemed like a long, long orgasm.  Halfway through it, Miss Smithers closed her eyes, her teeth still clenched.  At length the contractions became sporadic and, with one final jerk of her pelvis, ended.  I think we all exhaled at that point.  Miss Smithers herself caught her breath with deep gasps, her tummy moving in and out, as her entire body drooped from the cuffs.  Drops of sweat formed on her forehead, over her breasts, on her thighs.  Her head lolled weakly on her shoulders.  I heard one of the assistants whisper to another, “Thirteen contractions that time.”

        Then, to my amazement and horror, Miss Smithers began to sob.  Tears flowed from her eyes and she babbled like a little girl who had fallen and split her lip.  It was very hard to look at, but then I realized I shouldn’t have been surprised; as I now knew, it was the normal reaction she sometimes had to having an orgasm.

        The assistants got up and, leaning over the console, began the work of detaching the wires.  The patch over her genitals was affixed by some kind of adhesive which was apparently a bit uncomfortable to pry off.  As the assistant removed the patch and put it aside, I could see that it had a small knob and a bristly pad that faced inward, no doubt to provide a steady friction and pressure onto the clitoris.  Then one of the assistants reached down and very carefully removed the anal monitor.  The nude girl winced in pain as I saw that the monitor actually had two bulbs, each about an inch in diameter.  Harridance seemed to anticipate our thoughts as he said, “The anal probe has plugs on it that go on both sides of the sphincter so that it can’t be accidentally dislodged during orgasm.”  I squirmed, reflecting on how unpleasant the sensation must have been for Miss Smithers.  Or was it?

        The cuffs were undone, first the wrist cuffs, then the thigh straps, finally the ankle cuffs.  Miss Smithers, drenched with sweat, still sobbing softly, seemed grateful to bring her legs together as slipped off the sweat-slicked chair and sat on the base of the stage.  She brought her knees up to her forehead, cradling her toes in her hands.  Her head was bowed down.  Around her, the assistants went back to their stations, adjusting dials and checking and re-checking their figures.

        “You can say what you came for now, before she goes in to shower,” Harridance said to the Dean.

        It was time for the Dean to give the little speech he had told us he was going to give.  “Miss Smithers . . . can you hear me?”

        For a few seconds the naked girl did nothing.  Then she nodded slowly.

        “I’ll make this quick.  I’ve come to talk to you about your involvement with the gymnastics team.  I’m sure you noticed the, uh, disruptive behavior at the last meet at the end of last semester.  This can only be detrimental to the college, as well as not being respectful to you or to the team as a whole.  Therefore, we have decided to once again waive the athletic component of your scholarship.”

        Miss Smithers didn’t seem to react to this news, except to wipe tears from her eyes, clasp her hands around her shins, and fix a dull, red-eyed stare down at her toes, which she flexed and unflexed once or twice.

        “On the other hand, we have always hesitated at giving our scholarship students a free ride.  Not that we are accusing you ahead of time of being lazy, not by any means . . . But we have decided to in lieu of the athletic component, assign you to a part-time task on campus.”

        Again, she did nothing except stare down without emotion.

        “In the past students in your position had been assigned to tasks in the library, or in various administration offices doing filing work, things of that nature.  Unfortunately, all those jobs are filled up at the moment.  Actually, for you it is maybe not so unfortunate, because, let’s be frank, those jobs have the reputation of being very dull.  I think you’ll like the assignment we have found for you.

        “We have decided to assign you to the campus grounds crew.  I have been told the work is not that arduous, and you will get some fresh air away from the books.  Your, uh, lifestyle will be taken into account as far as outside work during the cold weather. . . The job will be ten hours a week, which is roughly the amount of time previously taken up by the gymnastics team.  Coach Snyder, by the way, supports this move, though reluctantly.  She says you really ‘gave your all’ for the team and will be happy to provide a reference if you need one in the future.”

        We were all waiting for Miss Smithers to respond to this development.  At first it seemed like it would be odd news, but after the Dean explained the situation this morning and I thought about it for a while, it seemed like a humane and reasonable solution, given the problems at the gymnastics meets which the Dean had told me about.

        The Dean, apparently having given up getting a reaction from Miss Smithers, sighed.  “You will report to Mr. Winant at the physical plant.  I’ll send you an intercampus note with all the information.”

        The Dean then gave Miss Smithers an odd look, somehow sterner than before.  In a clear voice, he said, “Dr. Harridance tells me that what you are helping with today is only the first . . . in a series of increasingly intense experiments . . . which will continue all semester.”  God, if he wanted to sound ominous for some reason, with his stern diction and long pauses he certainly succeeded!  I remembered that this was essentially what Harridance had told us over coffee, but then I thought, What could be more “intense” than what she had just been through!

        The Dean waited a moment and then addressed the naked young woman again as she continued to rest her head on her hands, staring downward.  “Miss Smithers . . . is there something you’d like to say?”

        She took a slow deep breath and then just as slowly exhaled.  She looked up slightly, without focus, into the middle distance.  We could see the dried tracks of her tears on her cheeks.  I thought I detected an strange glint of determination.  Then she slowly and deliberately shook her head.

        The three of us left soon after that, each of us a little weak and shaky at what we had seen.  It had been an intense experience for us too.  As we walked out of the Institute and gratefully took in some of the cold winter air, I asked the Dean what it was he was waiting for Miss Smithers to say.  He didn’t answer me directly, but shook his head and said, “She is a pretty tough girl.”

        Remembering what I had seen, realizing what Miss Smithers was willing to do for the cause of science, I could only agree.  I looked over at Noyes and said, “So you still think she’s only faking!”  The man just grunted and said, “We’ll see.”  I shook my head in disbelief.  Some people are just impossible!