Part III: The Experiment
Andrea wasn't sure how long the machine continued to stimulate her clit. At first, she
struggled a little more, trying to get away from the device pressed up between her legs.
She knew it was futile from the start, and soon resigned herself. It wasn't so bad, she rea-
soned. She certainly wasn't in the mood for sex, but it could be far worse. In any case, she
figured she could just think about something else and ignore it.
She soon discovered how wrong she was. For starters, all she could see was green light.
It didn't supply much in the way of topics for thought. When she was bored, or trying to
ignore something, Andrea usually thought about either psychology or sex, depending on
her mood. The latter was right out, for obvious reasons, and she definitely didn't want to
think about the former, since that was what had gotten her into this position in the first
place.
In any case, finding something else to think about wouldn't have done much good anyway,
since the small tingles of pleasure emanating from between her legs was quickly giving
way to larger tingles, creeping up her body. She couldn't help but notice that she was get-
ting very wet indeed, and the thought that her body was betraying her like this infuriated
her even more.
Andrea closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, trying to think unsexy thoughts. It was to no
avail. Sharp spikes of pleasure were shooting up from her crotch, into her central nervous
system. Her body twitched madly, partially from the electrodes in her muscles, but mostly
from throes of pleasure. She gasped, and attempted to writhe, but was prevented from
doing so by the bonds which held her. She tried to clench her fists and toes, but even her
digits were held fixed in place, unable to move even by a hair's breadth.
Soon, she was only aware of the green light, which permeated her vision, even through
her closed lids, and the pleasure which seemed to radiate from her crotch like a million
watt lightbulb. All the fight was gone from her, and she was hanging limp in her bonds
again, surrendered to the machine's will.
She felt herself coming close to an orgasm, and her muscles went taught, trying to thrash,
or clench her thighs together in ecstasy, or SOMETHING. But her restraints wouldn't have
any of that; they held her rigidly in place, clit pressed decisively against the source of her
pleasure. She screamed as she came, shuddering in her fetters.
For some reason she couldn't explain rationally, Andrea had subconciously been expect-
ing the machine to stop vibrating and withdraw from her clit as soon as she came. It didn't.
It just kept going, and going. Before she knew it, Andrea had another orgasm, even more
intense than the last.
Fairly soon, Andrea lost count of her orgasms as well as the duration of the stimulation.
She kept on cumming, though; at first, her climaxes came in rapid succession, each more
intense than the last. She tired out quickly though, and began to get sore. Her breath
came in ragged gasps, and her lungs were on fire. Her orgasms began to get fewer, and
further between. They hurt a bit, because she was getting so tender, and rather than
screaming, the best she could manage was a short gasp or feeble whimper.
Eventually, the green light went out. The device between her legs stopped vibrating at the
exact same instant. There was a whirring sound, and it withdrew from her clit. Plunged
into darkness once more, Andrea struggled to regain her breath. Her muscles were very
sore from struggling and being held in this stretched out position so long. The air was cool,
and her flesh drenched in sweat, and soon she was shivering, her teeth chattering weakly.
She was more miserable than she'd ever been before in her life. She was trapped, unable
to move and with no sign of freedom any time in the near future. She was sore, she was
exhausted, and she was freezing. She wanted very badly to cry, but she was too ex-
hausted; the tears wouldn't come.
Eventually, she had regained her breath, and her sweat had all but completely evapo-
rated. She had ceased to shiver, although the air was still a little bit cold for her liking. She
began to discover that being imprisoned in the device was much like being in a sensory
deprivation tank. Unable to move, she lacked any sort of tactile stimulation. All she could
smell was her own sweat and pussy juice. The darkness was complete; she couldn't see
anything. The machine was silent when it wasn't operating. The only stimulus she had at
all was the uncomfortable sensation of all the muscles in her body twitching slightly, forced
to do so by the electrodes which were stuck in all over her body.
As people often do in sensory deprivation tanks, Andrea began to hallucinate. Her dog,
which she kept back at her parents' place appeared to her and spoke to her, but its words
didn't make any sense. Her mind began to fill in a background: the living room at her par-
ents' house, a fire blazing in the fireplace. She stroked her dog, and it licked her face. An-
drea welcomed the hallucination eagerly; it took her away from the horrible place she was
and into a relaxing, ordinary world.
The scene changed quite suddenly. She and her dog were out in a field of tall green
grass, blowing in the wind. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her
face, its green light visible through her eyelids. The color of the light struck her as odd,
and she opened her eyes, realizing with shock that the whole sky had turned green, and
her dog was nowhere to be seen.
It took her a moment to realize that she was no longer hallucinating. The green light was
on again. She wondered if there was a correlation between the light and the machine go-
ing into action. There must be, she reasoned, since the machine had stopped just as the
light had gone off.
But it wasn't doing anything yet. She was pretty sure it was going to do something, but she
didn't know what. It might be the same as before, or it might not. She tried to convince
herself that it MIGHT not do anything at all, but she knew that was an idle hope. Before
the light had been on even a minute, the anticipation was killing her. She squirmed un-
comfortably, knowing that there was absolutely nowhere she could go, nothing she could
do. The muscles of her inner thighs were very sore by this point. The discomfort reminded
her of the fact that they were spread as far as they would go, and she couldn't help but
think about just how exposed and accessible her pussy was, especially with the hair re-
moved. Despite her exhaustion, she did manage a choked sob or two.
It couldn't have been more than five minutes before the machine whirred to life again, but
by that time, Andrea was feeling like she was going to completely lose her mind. It almost
came as a relief when she felt the same device, or one much like it press against her clit.
The tiny fraction of a second between the device coming into contact with her nether re-
gions and when it started to vibrate was an instant frozen in time. Conciously, Andrea
dreaded what was to come, but the primitive, animalistic regions of her subconcious were
screaming out their eager anticipation. These two sides of Andrea slugged it out on the
battlefield of her mind in the instant before the stimulation of her clit wiped out her capacity
for rational thought and gave her body over to the mercies of her animal nature.
The effects the machine had on Andrea this time around were far less dramatic. She had
many orgasms, but she was so exhausted that even the first few weren't very powerful. By
the time the machine stopped, an indeterminate amount of time later, she was verging on
unconciousness, and had entirely stopped climaxing.
As soon as the machine stopped, Andrea fell fast asleep, supported in her restraints. It
was a deep, dreamless sleep, and the next thing she was aware of was a beeping sound,
awakening her from her slumber.
It had seemed to her that she had just closed her eyes for a moment before being
awoken, but she felt well-rested enough that she assumed that the machine had let her
sleep at least six to eight hours before giving her this wake-up call. At least, that's what
she hoped the beeping was. She apprehensively thought that the beeping might be the
precursor to the machine coming to life again.
Her thigh muscles were even more sore and cramped than they had been when she'd
fallen asleep, but the rest of her body was relaxed, and her clit was no longer sore, having
recovered from all the stimulation. The beeping had stopped, and she waited in silence
and darkness, wondering with more than a little fear what was to happen to her next.
Time passed, and nothing seemed to be happening. A pressing need was overcoming her
fear, the need to pee. Worried that she might hit an exposed wire and electrocute herself,
Andrea tried to hold it in. She quickly realized that she probably wasn't going anywhere for
quite a while and she'd have to go at some point. Chewing on her lip and trying not to
think about it, Andrea closed her eyes and began to piss. She was relieved to find that she
wasn't being electrocuted, and the pee wasn't pooling around her crotch or feet. When she
was done, she heard a watery whoosh sound, and realized that whoever had built this
infernal device had anticipated this need and designed something to deal with her wastes.
Again, she wondered just how long she was going to be kept in the machine.
Sleep had cleared her mind, and Andrea was able to think about her situation more lu-
cidly. Was this really a psychology experiment, or just some perverted scheme? Andrea
was quite sure that Dr. Ridgewell wasn't the real name of the guy in the Einstein mask, but
that didn't mean he didn't actually have a PhD in psychology. It certainly wasn't a legal
experiment, and would never be published in any psychological journals, but perhaps the
man was insane, obsessed with his studies, and was performing the experiment out of
curiousity.
But what sort of experiment was it? Andrea recalled him saying something about Pavlov's
dogs and classical conditioning. In classical conditioning, a stimulus was given which had
nothing to do with the desired response. This was known as the conditioned stimulus. Im-
mediately after the conditioned stimulus, another stimulus was given to provoke the de-
sired response. It was called the unconditioned stimulus. When the desired response was
given in response to the unconditioned stimulus, it was known as the unconditioned re-
sponse. After repeating the process many times, the subject (the dogs, in Pavlov's case)
would form an association between the two stimuli and would thereafter exhibit the re-
sponse even if only the unconditioned stimulus was given. The response was then known
as the conditioned response.
This sort of fit in with what had happened to her so far. The green light could be a condi-
tioned stimulus, and the stimulation of her sex organs was definitely an unconditioned
stimulus. So what was the reaction Dr. Ridgewell was trying to provoke? Getting her
turned on at the sight of a green light? It didn't seem to be working, if that was the case.
As far as Andrea could remember, she'd been more terrified at the sight of it than anything
else.
She had been pondering the subject for a little under an hour when her thoughts were in-
terrupted by a red light shining in her eyes. Andrea's eyes had adapted to the darkness,
and the light hurt them. She squeezed them shut, but, like the green one, the red light was
bright enough to be seen through her eyelids.
Andrea gasped when she remembered, again, Dr. Ridgewell's words: "...two sensations
that go right to the bedrock of your subconcious. Sexual pleasure... and pain."
Pain. Was that what the red light was going to represent? Panic washed over Andrea like
a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over her head. Before she knew what she was doing,
she was struggling madly against the machine that held her, squeezing her eyes tighter
against the red light. Long ago, Andrea's concious mind had accepted, or at least under-
stood, that struggling could do no good. Andrea wasn't thinking rationally, however. Her
muscles strained against the restraints, harder than she would have thought possible. The
bonds didn't shift, even slightly. Tears came easily to her now, streaming down her face
and dripping onto her breasts and rolling down between them, sliding along her shaved
mound and finally dripping off the bottom edge of her labia into the darkness.
A few minutes later, her worst fears were realized. If anything, it was worse than she ex-
pected. The pain hit the instinctive parts of her nervous system first, and she was straining
against her manacles and screaming before she was conciously aware of what had hap-
pened.
The machine had clamped down on her nipples with incredible force. Her nipples had
been erect in the cold air, causing the pain to be even more intense than it would have
been ordinarily. She could see the clamps, but when the initial shock had cleared enough
for her to think, she imagined that they must have some sort of slightly slightly covering or
they would have broken the skin. It didn't comfort her much; the pain was still unlike any-
thing she'd ever felt.
Just as she was starting to adapt to the pain, to be able to partially ignore it, the clamps
began to twist. They were rotating in opposite directions, her right nipple being twisted
clockwise, her left one counter-clockwise. When they reached a position 90 degrees from
where they had started, they stopped. Or so Andrea thought. She quickly realized that
they were still turning, only slower now. Andrea whimpered in pain; the twisting of her nip-
ples was beginning to really hurt. By the time they'd reached 180 degrees, the agony had
outmatched the pain caused by the pinching of the clamps, but still they turned. They
slowed down further. It must have taken them five minutes to reach 270 degrees, by which
point Andrea was sure that her nipples were going to be twisted right off. Her eyes were
watering and her fingers strained against the straps holding them, trying against her willing
them to, to clench themselves into fists. She was no longer aware of anything except the
pain in her nipples; even the red light that consumed her vision seemed far away, as if in a
dream, and still the clamps turned. They stopped just short of 360 degrees, by which point
Andrea was gritting her teeth and emiting short, high-pitched gasps.
The clamps began to turn back to their original positions, moving with excruciating slow-
ness. When they reached their normal orientation and her nipples were no longer twisted,
Andrea assumed they were going to release her. She quickly learned otherwise.
She heard a whirring from between her legs and felt cold metal on the insides of her outer
labia. It clamped down on them, but lightly, causing only mild discomfort. The machine
then pulled them apart, exposing the more delicate parts inside. Before Andrea could start
worrying about this, agony shot through her and she was screaming again. She thought
having her nipples clamped had been bad. Nothing could have prepared her for the pain
of having the same done to her clit.
Andrea screamed over and over, resuming her futile struggles. She was certain that the
machine was going to twist her clit, and equally certain that there was no way she could
endure the pain that would cause without blacking out. She was wrong on both counts.
Instead of twisting, the clamp began to pull. Unlike the nipple clamps, it pulled fairly
quickly, moving out to its maximum extension of a little over a centimeter in the span of
maybe 15 seconds. The agony was intense, but unfortunately for Andrea, she didn't black
out.
Almost as soon as it stretched her clit out as far as it would go, the machine moved back
in to its original position. And then it pulled again. As it began to return once more to its
original position, the clamps on her nipples began to twist them again, faster this time. The
machine continued to work on her nipples and clit alternately; as tension was being re-
leased from her clit, her nipples were being twisted to their extreme; as the clamps crush-
ing her nipples rotated back, their counterpart would pull cruelly on her clit.
After what seemed to Andrea to be hours, they stopped. Again, Andrea began to hope
that her ordeal was over for the time being. Instead, she gasped again as high-voltage AC
current was put through her nipples, via the clamps that held them. A moment later, her
clit suffered a similar fate. The electricity seemed to be low amperage, despite its high
voltage; it inflicted an incredible amount of pain when applied, but didn't seem to be doing
any actual damage, aside from the unpleasant buzzing sensation that AC shocks leave.
After shocking her repeatedly for a while, the machine seemed to be going into its grand
finale. It started twisting and pulling on her again, repeatedly sending shocks through the
three clamps while it did so. By then, Andrea was completely fatigued, too weak to strug-
gle. She was completely consumed by pain; it no longer even seemed to be located to her
breasts and crotch; her whole body seemed to be glowing hot white with agony.
And then it stopped. There was no more twisting or pulling, no more electricity. The red
light remained on, however. For about a minute, nothing happened. Andrea gritted her
teeth, trying to steel herself for whatever was to come next. And then all three clamps re-
leased simultaneously. Andrea felt relief for a fraction of a second before screaming in
pain as the blood rushed back into her nipples and clit. A few seconds later, the pain
faded to a dull ache, and the device holding her labia open released her and it too with-
drew. The red light went out.
The red light went on several more times that day, each time accompanied by sobs, fol-
lowed by screams and eventually just subdued whimpers. By the end of the day, Andrea
had completely lost her will to fight. She was resigned, and cried herself to sleep.
Once again, she was awoken by the beeping. She was disoriented when she woke up,
unsure of where she was. When she remembered, she began to cry again. The first light
to go on that day was green, and Andrea felt her spirits lift slightly. Sure enough, the vi-
brator was pressed to her clit, and remained there for what Andrea guessed was several
hours, giving her countless orgasms and leaving her exhausted and sore. Next, the red
light went on. What the machine did to her was no different than the other times, but it was
far worse this time because her clit was hyper-sensitive from her green light experience.
She almost did black out this time, but was suddenly, inexplicably brought back to her
senses, to her world of agony. Later, between pleasure and pain sessions, she'd figure out
that she'd been given a stimulant through the IV to keep her concious. Fuck, the designer
of this thing had thought of everything.
The next few days went in the same vein; green light and moans, red light and screams.
The machine usually alternated them, but occasionally it would give her the same one two
or three times in a row. Andrea decided that it was trying to keep her guessing. The peri-
ods of darkness between the red and green lights were almost worse than the sessions
themselves; the psychological torture of trying to guess what would happen to her next
was unbearable. She felt like she was losing her mind.
Her next big surprise came about a week later. First thing one morning, shortly after the
beeping, a yellow light went on.
Yellow? Andrea had no idea what this could mean. Dr. Ridgewell had mentioned sexual
pleasure and pain, but nothing else. So what was with this third light? Andrea squirmed in
frustration, knowing that there was no way to know except to wait for five minutes until the
machine got around to doing its business.
The five minutes seemed more like five hours to Andrea. She spent the time running sce-
narios through her mind, trying to guess what was about to be done to her. She hoped
desperately that it wasn't going to be another form of torture… she didn't think she could
deal with it.
It was, but not in the way Andrea was thinking. Once again, a device lightly clamped her
outer labia and drew them apart, as if pulling aside curtains to unveil a masterpiece at an
art gallery. Andrea screamed, fearing that her clit was going to be tortured again.
Instead, Andrea felt something press up against the opening of her vagina. It felt like latex.
Ever so slowly, it began to slide into her. Whatever it was, it was well lubricated; Andrea
was so scared that she was as dry as a bone in there, but the thing slid in easily. It was
big, just barely small enough not to cause her pain, and it had some sort of hard ridge on
the top. It halted in its penetration when that ridge was aligned with her g-spot.
For many long minutes, nothing happened. Andrea squeezed it experimentally. It gave a
little bit, as soft rubber or latex would. The ridge on top was pressing quite hard against
her g-spot and felt like hard plastic. Andrea began to wonder if the machine was broken
when it suddenly sprung into life. The dildo began to vibrate faintly and slide slowly in and
out. The ridge scraped against her g-spot, causing tingles of pleasure to shoot through
her.
Eventually, Andrea began to get turned on. She wondered what the point of this was; the
green light already had the sexual pleasure side of things covered. It seemed a little re-
dundant. Not that she was complaining; this she could deal with, and hopefully it meant
that now the red light would only come on a third of the time, instead of half.
The sort of pleasure the vibrating dildo was giving her was more subtle than the green
light device, even with the plastic ridge scraping against her g-spot. After ten or fifteen
minutes, she was getting very horny and producing her own juices in ample quantities; the
vibrations were sending constant tingles of pleasure through her body, punctuated with
larger waves of ecstasy caused by the plastic ridge on each stroke.
Nonetheless, she wasn't getting very close to a climax. If only she was having her clit
stimulated, she thought to herself, she'd have had at least a couple of orgasms by now.
As if in response to her thoughts, the next stroke was a deeper one and brought the tip of
the dildo against her cervix and the ridge into contact with her a-spot. It had some sort of
vibrating protrusion at the base, which came into contact with her clit at the moment of
deepest penetration, sending a sharp spike of rapture through her whole lower body each
time.
Now Andrea was definitely getting enough stimulation. Within a few minutes, she was rid-
ing on waves of pleasure which crested higher and higher with each passing second. She
felt an orgasm coming on, she squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip, tensed her body and…
everything stopped. The dildo stopped vibrating and sliding in and out. It was quickly with-
drawn, leaving her hanging.
This frustrated Andrea considerably. It was the first sign of bad design she'd seen. Appar-
ently, the yellow light device was intended to give her a single orgasm, rather than sev-
eral, but she'd obviously gotten to her climax later than the designer had intended. "Obvi-
ously a man's design," Andrea thought to herself, snidely. It was only then that it occurred
to her that the yellow light was still on.
As she was pondering this, she felt the dildo enter her again. By this time, she'd cooled
down, and was back to square one. Apparently the dildo was, too, since it was doing what
it had when it first started, vibrating slightly and caressing her g-spot with its ridge. Even-
tually, it once again began to penetrate deeper, grinding the ridge against he a-spot and
pressing its vibrating nub against hers with each thrust.
When it stopped just short of her climax for the second time, Andrea realized that it was
no coincidence. There must be some sort of sensors attached to her somewhere, moni-
toring heart rate and blood pressure, predicting when she was about to have an orgasm,
so it could snatch it from her grasp at the last minute.
The next few times around, Andrea tried to conceal the fact that she was coming close.
She made concious efforts to keep her breathing slow, but it was no use. She couldn't fool
the machine. Time after time, she came tantalizingly close to what she knew would be an
absolutely amazing orgasm, only to have it taken away from her, just inches from the fin-
ish line.
The yellow light stayed on far longer than the green or red ones ever had. Andrea esti-
mated that it was on for well over half the day. By the end, she was screaming herself
hoarse with sexual frustration, begging the machine out loud to let her cum, as if it could
hear her. The device was completely without mercy. She was wetter than she'd ever been
in her life, the dildo sliding in and out frictionlessly, her juices dripping out with every
stroke.
And then the yellow light went off. The dildo withdrew, and didn't come back. Being left in
the most intense state of sexual arousal of her life, with no stimulation whatsoever was
almost worse than the constant teasing she had just been subjected to.
When the green light came on half an hour later, Andrea actually sobbed with joy. What
followed thereafter pushed all other contenders off of her list of top 10 most intense or-
gasms of her life.
