Experiment 239 Ch. 05

It had been a whirlwind of a week.

Neither Anthony nor Sophie had left Sophie's place ever since that first night, except to go to work and back. They attempted to maintain a platonic facade within the confines of the laboratory, but once they arrived back at her house, it was as if a door blew open and they tumbled sideways into it, not reemerging until the shrill ring of the morning alarm clock pulled them temporarily out of their lust-fuelled dreams. Even then, Sophie would dress for work with whatever Anthony had laid out for her, just as they'd done the week before. Once, she found her designated bra and panties stained with cum - it thrilled her to carry a part of him with her to the office, hidden beneath her clothes.

Anthony had lost count of how many times he had cum that week. Sophie had cum exactly twice. After all, one of her requested kinks was orgasm control, and how could Anthony possibly deny such a charming lady her wish?

The day after their first tryst, they had made up a point system on the whiteboard in the study - Sophie had to reach 100 to earn each orgasm. Points would be added for good behaviour or certain tasks accomplished or agreed to, and points deducted for misbehaviour or failures. She was, unfortunately, currently at -20, for having orgasmed the night before at 80 points when Anthony had taken her from behind. That had reset her counter and received a 20 mark penalty, and Anthony had made a mental note that that was a position he should stay away from if he didn't wish her to cum.

It was a Saturday morning, and Sophie was determined to at least get back up to 0 today. She was up before Anthony, having been awakened by a wet dream, and was pulling out all the stops. Hair done and lips painted with a bright red lipstick that he had decreed on one of her work days ("This makes me look like a whore!" she had complained). Wrists cuffed in front of her, clamps squeezing her delicate nipples and attached to the cuffs by a short chain. His favourite corset laced as tightly as she could manage by herself, pulling her already slender waist in by a few inches. Thigh high leather boots with 5-inch stiletto heels. A buttplug with a tail swishing around her.

It was incredibly difficult to prepare breakfast in such a getup, she belatedly realized. The clamps tugged ferociously at her nipples whenever she used her hands, forcing her to contort her body to reach anything - a task made more difficult by the stiff posture enforced by the corset. The balls of her feet ached in the heels, and she could feel her arousal dripping down her thighs and onto the tops of her boots. God, was she horny already, even after last night? It was as if her sex drive had been awakened from a deep slumber, and it was HUNGRY. Insatiable. Consuming her every waking moment...

A whistle. "Wow." She turned around to see Anthony standing by the kitchen door, wearing nothing but boxer briefs. His hair was mussed with sleep, but his eyes seemed very much awake as they scanned her from head to toe, and his arousal was visibly straining against the briefs.

"Morning, Tony," she offered what she hoped came out as a throaty chuckle, and threw in a bare-bottom wiggle for good measure.

Anthony stepped forward, large hands encircling her cinched waist effortlessly. "Morning, my dear," he murmured, planting an unshaven kiss on her forehead. "What do we have here?"

"Breakfast. I was thinking... cereal with milk and eggs on toast?"

He cocked his head, glancing around the kitchen. She could almost see the gears in his head whirring. Uh-oh.

"I think I'd like some bacon with that. If you don't mind." The last sentence was thrown in with a roguish grin. Of course the bastard knew she 'wouldn't mind'.

Sophie glanced down at herself. "The bacon is on the top level of the freezer. Above my head."

Another kiss and a light tug at the tail attached to her buttplug, before he released her. "I know." Without further ado, he sat down at the table, pulling out the newspapers. "And strawberries in the cereal, please."

"Asshole," Sophie murmured under her breath, pulling the freezer open. Why had she put these infernal clamps on? Her nipples were aching and taut already, every tug on them amplified tenfold. Gritting her teeth, she stood on tiptoe as much as one can in 5-inch heels (not much), and reached up for the bacon.

She almost tugged the clamps clean off, but she made it.

Anthony was standing right behind her, almost startling her when she turned around. Jesus fucking Christ, that man moved like a cat. "What did you say, dear?"

"Noth-," Sophie began, but a large ballgag was shoved between her teeth at that moment, eliciting a yelped, "Ngghh?!"

"Minus 5 points," he reminded her pleasantly, tightening the strap behind her head.

"Nghhh..."

Having finished with the strap, he leaned forward to place his mouth just beside her ear, his morning stubble grazing her delicate skin. "Well, get on with it. If I catch you drooling into my breakfast, that'll be another 5 points, yes?"

Sophie glared daggers at him, then hurriedly tilted her chin upwards to catch a trickle of drool. Fuck.

It took about five times as long as usual, but she was finally done with the breakfast preparations. Buttplug-tail swishing behind her, she carried the tray to him with just a smidgeon of pride in the achievement.

He seemed to take pride in it, too. "Good girl." A hand reached up to tussle her hair, before he picked up the cutlery she had brought him and began eating.

"Nghhh...?" she ventured, hopefully.

The bastard actually laughed. "I think you'd look quite lovely as a dining room ornament, don't you?" He gestured towards the far end of the table. "Just there, please. Oh, and... hands on your head," he winked.

Sophie glowered at him from the far end of the table. Her breasts were being tugged clean upwards, all of their weight resting on the clamped nipples attached to her wrists. Her jaw ached from the gigantic ball, and a puddle of drool had already accumulated in her cleavage. The corset was too tight to take a full breath in, and her feet ached mightily in the heels.

But god damn it, she was dripping like a faucet.

Anthony took his time with sipping his coffee, his light blue eyes taking in her discomfort with great satisfaction. Finally, his plate and mug emptied, he carried her portion over to her and untied her wrists from her nipple clamps and each other, then re-tied them behind her back "Kneel."

Somewhat confused, she did as told.

He placed her plate on the floor.

"Ngghhh..." she protested, narrowing her eyebrows up at him.

He simply responded with a cocked eyebrow of his own. "Are you going to do as you're told, or are we going for -30 points here?"

She was starving, and she needed to cum so, so badly. Resignedly, she dipped her head in acquiescence.

"Make sure you don't waste anything." He removed the ballgag, and left her to it.

***

Anthony watched as Sophie finished off her meal. Without use of her hands, she had to lower her head all the way to the floor to pick up anything. Her carefully-curled locks were tousled and stained with food, and her face had picked up almost as much of it as her mouth had. His high vantage point and the tightly-cinched corset that she was wearing amplified her already full breasts, the nipples swollen and trapped in alligator clamps. He had been afraid that he might have hit a limit, but from the looks of things (and by "things" he meant her extremely damp inner thighs), she seemed to be enjoying it as much as he was.

Little Tony was aching for a release.

"Good girl," he praised her as she finished the last of it. Gently, he wiped her face and hair with a hand towel, but did not release her wrists.

"That was the most humiliating thing I have done in my entire life," she whispered, raising her eyes to his. They were smoldering, almost burning, with the deepest desire he had ever seen.

"And the most arousing thing I have ever seen in mine. Let's set you back at zero, shall we?" he offered, gently cleaning the final spot on her chin.

"Yes, please. God, Tony, I need it so badly..."

"What do you need?"

In answer, she leaned forward to catch the waistband of his boxers between her teeth, and pulled it down to his ankles. And then dove onto his rock-hard member as if it was the last sausage on earth.

He could barely keep himself standing as she went at it in earnest, employing every trick in the book that she'd read over the past few days, everything she had seen Number 239 do to the lifeless cock in the Endurance Room. She took more and more of it in, until her lips smacked against the base of his cock, his head lodged firmly down her throat. And she stayed in that position until her eyes watered and snot began to drip down her nose and her body was gasping for air, before she let go, took as deep a breath as she could around his cock, and then plunged in again.

Anthony tried, he really did, but the sight of her slurping down his cock and the plethora of sensations enveloped him firmly in its grasp, and he shot his load far earlier than he'd intended. Smiling like the Cheshire cat, she swallowed every last gulp of it, except for the trickle that was dripping down her chin.

"That was a 20 at least, wasn't it?" she wheedled, once he had regained his senses.

Anthony laughed. "I'll give you better than that. 30."

She laughed along with him. "'Only' 70 more to go, huh?"

"A little obedience goes a long way. Shall we go to the art museum today? I hear they have a new display."

She looked down at herself questioningly.

He grinned as he reached down to open her wrist cuffs. "You can remove the tail from the buttplug, but you'll be keeping everything else on. Wear something short."

***

Elaida sobbed helplessly into the gigantic cock strapped into her mouth. She didn't know how much more of this she could take. Life in this strange place had started out challenging, but she had managed. Yet it seemed that every week there was something new and worse and more difficult to endure.

She was back in the Polishing Room, except she wasn't polishing the fixtures by hand anymore - the polishing brush was attached to the other end of the penis gag by a short stick. Naturally, as she had no need of her hands anymore, she was not allowed control over them. They were strapped behind her back, elbows pulled together in the foam armbinder that she was finding herself in more often than not nowadays.

Red 6-inch pumps were locked on her feet, connected by a chain only 3 inches long. Her knees were strapped together, and the chain between her nipple clamps was looped around the knee strap, preventing her from raising her torso. Her braided hair was tied to a smooth metal hook that plunged firmly into her ass, forcing her to tilt her head back in a most awkward position. No matter how she moved or what posture she held, her muscles would strain and ache, the clamps would tug, and the hook would dig into her most tender parts.

She still had all that polishing to do before she could go to the exit and have the restraints removed.

Her entire body was shaking, tears trickling freely down her stained cheeks. She tried pleading through the gag, hoping that somewhere, somehow, someone would hear her. Her pleas were in vain. Today, her corset had been cinched almost an inch tighter than it usually was. She struggled to control her breathing, to prevent herself from hyperventilating.

There was nothing for it but to carry on. She teetered sideways towards the next item on the shelf, pain shooting up her nipples and ass, eliciting a scream from her. If anyone was watching, clearly they didn't care. She leaned forward with the brush, willing herself to just do it, to just complete the task.

***

James watched her as he leaned back in his bed, stroking his cock.

He was certain that nobody knew he had established a remote link to 239's simulation so he could watch her at his leisure. In fact, he had even dabbled with a backdoor that allowed him to make minor modifications remotely, without needing access to the control panel in the facility. It hadn't been up for long, and he had been very cautious about what he did through it, ensuring that he didn't tip anyone off. But it seemed to be working.

He keyed a command into the open terminal on his laptop, and the chain connecting 239's nipple clamps to her knees shortened by half an inch. She screamed in agony.

Precum dribbled from his cock as he idly pumped it through his hand.

He set the laptop by his side and made himself comfortable. Boy, was he glad that Anthony had given him the green light for ramping up 239's simulation. "We need to make more progress," Anthony had urged. Happy to do so, James had said.

Occasionally, he would feel a twinge of guilt as he masturbated to the live feed on his screen, but he reminded herself that everyone in the simulation had signed up for it - even if they didn't currently remember that. Hey, if someone wanted to put themselves through all that, who was he to argue?

He could tell that 239 was tiring. He didn't want to set the precedent of letting her exit without having completed her task, though. Nor did he want anyone in the office to know that someone had tampered with the simulation while not on-duty.

Besides, it felt so GOOD to watch her. To see every inch of her flesh quiver and strain and tremble with agony. Agony that he had inflicted on her, that he could control. He zoomed in on her face - he could see the helplessness and fear in her eyes, the tears still trickling from them. Strings of drool hung from her chin, where the front panel of her penis gag ended. The muscles in her throat made a swallowing motion as she attempted in vain to swallow some of her saliva around the monstrosity lodged in her mouth.

He shot his load into a well-placed Kleenex.

After he was done and cleaned up, he looked at her again and found pity stirring in his heart. She had completed almost 50% of the room in the past 2 hours. Not too bad.

He loosened all of her chains by an inch. Nothing so obvious that anyone in the office would notice, but 239 certainly would.

Nobody could say he wasn't a merciful man.