"Project Phoenix: Experiment Log #121a"

Project Phoenix ©

Experiment Log #121-A

By Fiction Writer #13

Edited By Tajod

(Mdom, teen, ped, noncon, reluct, con, drug, bond, f/f, spank, oral, mast, exhib, rom, bi, lez)

"EAHH!"

Twelve year old Tiffany Brophy awoke with a start. Something or someone had just touched her foot. Her initial reaction was to reach down and brush it away, but when she tried to she found her hands wouldn't move; couldn't move.

Her wrists were caught in something, held tight. Her heart jumped in her chest, her breath came in sharp gasps. Only then did her mind begin to register what her body already knew. This was wrong. Everything was wrong.

She tried to move her head but it too was held in place, her neck bound by something on all sides, as were her legs. She was being held in an odd position. Her head and wrists bound at the same level, but not close enough for her hands to brush away her long, straight, brunette hair from her hazel eyes. Her torso rested on what felt like a padded bench that ended just below her rib cage, keeping her in line with her horizontal neck and suspending her chest over open air. Her thighs had been pulled up close to her hips, knees fully bent, and ankles pulled slightly away from each other.

She couldn't see anything. Either she was blindfolded, or the lights were out, she couldn't tell, nor did she really care. Right now all that she cared about was the fact that she was naked. She didn't need to see to know that, she could feel it.

Though the air in the room was warm she could still feel a slight draft as it played over her bare skin. It tickled her in places, places that had rarely been exposed in such a way. She could feel it as it fluttered against her downy soft pubes which had only recently sprung forth. Her breasts, which had already swollen to a C cup in the last two years, hung below her and swung gently every time she moved. Below her stomach and pelvis the padding of the bench began to become slick with her nervous sweat.

The position that she was held in unlocked a memory long since thought forgotten. It suddenly came back in stunning detail. It was of herself at two years old, just learning the ins and outs of using the potty all on her own. She swelled with pride as she leapt from the hard plastic seat set over the bowl just for her, calling to her father, 'Daddy! Daddy! I did it!' Her father entering the bathroom smiling, calling her a 'good girl' and letting her know just how proud he was of her with tiny kisses on her cheeks.

She remembered turning from him, bending over, showing him her rear end and privates so that he could finish the job for her. She remembered him moving behind her, a wad of toilet paper in hand as he gently cleaned her. She remembered that feeling of being opened and exposed to the air of the room as he dabbed and wiped. She had that feeling again now, only this time she burned with embarrassment and shame rather than with pride.

She struggled against her bindings, feeling them cut and burn the harder she fought. Tears formed and poured down her cheeks, her lips tasting the saltiness in each tiny drop. Feeling them as they slipped over her quivering lips reminded her that she still had a voice.

"Help! Help! Someone, please help me!"

Her mind began to scream, 'Why? Why is this happening to me?'

Though she wasn't sure exactly what was happening, she knew it couldn't be good. Nothing good could come of waking up somewhere other than at home, completely naked and tied up like a prisoner. Naked and tied up when she should have been wearing her flannel PJs; Naked and tied up instead of hugging her favorite Teddy bear; Naked and tied up instead of being at home with her family.

"Please," she sobbed, "please let me go!"

No one answered, but she never, not for a single moment, believed that she was alone. Someone had done this to her. They wouldn't have left her like this. No. They were out there somewhere, listening to her cries, ignoring her pleas and seeing the most private parts of her body.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she called into the darkness, her voice choked with tears. "I wanna go home! Please... please just let me go home..."

Suddenly she was blinded by powerful lights. Her eyes closed tightly, trying to shut out its stinging rays, but they pierced her eye lids, filling her vision with a red glow. Again her hands instinctively tried to move, this time to shield herself from the strong lighting, and again they were denied.

After some time she managed to blink her pupils into a less painful dilation. Out of the white blur shapes began to form around her. Directly in front of her, just a few feet away, sat an empty desk chair. Resting on the grey padded seat was a clip board holding several sheets of type filled paper and a ball point pen. To her right a television sat atop a small cart set at just the right height for her to view. Reflected on the blank screen, she could see that only her head and hands were in this room. They protruded out from the center of a wall, the remainder of her body hidden on the other side. Off to her left, if she strained her immobilized neck as hard as she could, there was a door that did not have a handle.

Of all these things there was one piece of equipment that made her whimper the most. Behind the chair and offset to the right slightly, mounted on a heavy duty tripod, the single glass eye of a movie camera glared evilly at her. Its flashing red light was a clear sign that her initial belief that they were watching her was not unfounded. The dark lens gaped at her; within its depths her own reflection sobbed and shook with red and puffy eyes.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she mournfully demanded of the unblinking eye. "Why?"

Still no answer; nothing; only the hum of the lights above and the near silent whir of the camera met her ears. She sat and waited, sobbing and sniffling, wondering what was going to happen to her.

Another memory flashed through her troubled mind. One from when she was seven years old and shopping with her mom at the mall. Her mom was still just sliding one item after another, the plastic hangers shrieking against the steel ring holding them up just above the floor, in a search for the correct size, style, and color. She was bored following her around the department store; it felt like she'd been doing that for hours and hours.

Off she went to find something to do. At first walking around in circles, her arms outstretched, finger tips brushing against tightly packed fabrics on either side. Then she began to zigzag and slalom around the circular racks from one end of the store to the other, her nose filling with that new clothes smell that only lasts until the first wash. When that became too much of a bore she began to crawl on the barely there carpeting, climbing and hiding in the middles of those round racks, surrounded by T-shirts and jeans. Every once in a while she reveled in the sheer joy of scaring an unwary customer with a loud 'Boo!' as they mimicked her mother's actions in search of bargains.

She became so lost in her own little world that she hadn't noticed just how far she had travelled. Tired of her games she emerged from the racks and sought out her mother, only to find that she was nowhere in sight.

Panic set in almost immediately, her little heart pounding in her chest. The playground of clothing now closed around her like a maze as she ran through the twisting aisles. The strangers who she had so much fun scaring just moments before now scared her. She had never felt so alone and lost. She thought that her mommy had left her behind, forgotten her, which is exactly how she felt right now.

Shhkktt

The sound of the door opening sent her terror into overdrive. She redoubled her efforts to pull free of her bindings, causing more pain but suffering the same result... she couldn't move. With her heart thundering in her ears she craned her neck as hard as she could to look towards the doorway.

A tall man with black hair and sharp features entered the room. He wore a white lab coat, like a doctor, though Tiffany didn't think he really was one. He didn't even look at her as he marched in and picked up the clip board. His eyes scanned the print for a moment before he took a seat in front of her. He sat there in silence while reading, and Tiffany was too scared to speak.

Shhhhhhdddttt

The sound of the door closing caused Tiff to jump, her breath squeaked out of her in a tiny yelp.

"Good evening." The man's deep and powerful voice snapped her attention back to him. "How are you feeling?"

He still wasn't looking at her. His attention was focused only on the papers before him. He held the pen as if ready to write down something, but didn't. "Oh! I'm sorry. You must be thirsty."

Tiff stared at him in stunned silence. Her voice stuck in her throat, making her feel as if she were going to choke on her unspoken words. He bent down and retrieved a small cup with a straw and put the tube to her lips. "Drink this; it'll make you feel better."

Tiff held her lips tightly together, refusing the offered beverage.

"It's okay, it's just orange juice. Well, orange drink at least. I doubt that there's any actual juice in it." He held the drink and waited patiently for her to sip.

After a few seconds of indecision, Tiff finally suckled on the straw. The orange liquid didn't taste very good, slightly bitter actually, but it did make her dry throat feel better.

Once the drink was drained dry, the man pulled it free from her lips and set it on the floor out of her eyesight.

"Could you please state your full name for me?"

Tiff's eyes welled up with fresh tears. "Why... why are you doing this to me?" Speaking nearly caused her to gag.

"If you could just answer my question, please, what is your full name?"

His words weren't harsh, but she could tell that he meant business.

"Tiff... Tiffany."

"Last name too, please."

"Tiffany Brophy."

"Thank you Miss Brophy." The man made a tick mark on one side of the paper. "When were you born?"

Tiff didn't know why, but she felt compelled to answer him. "April... April 12th."

"The year, please?"

"Nineteen sixty-four."

"Good girl." The man made another mark. "Any allergies?"

"N... no sir," she spoke in a timid voice as her mind reeled in anger with herself. 'Why did I just call that monster sir?'

"Now, Tiffany, I'm sure you are wondering why you are here." His eyes finally met her own deep brown, penetrating eyes. "We just want to ask you a few questions. All you have to do is answer them truthfully." He offered her a surprisingly warm smile. "You can do that for me, can't you?"

"I... I guess so," her lips quivered. "If I do, will you... will you take me home?"

"Yes, Tiffany, we will take you home." Again he gave her that warm, fatherly smile. "But you have to answer every question, no matter what, and be honest."

Tiff felt like a ton of weight had been lifted off her. The sudden rush of emotions upon hearing that they would let her go caused her to smile back at the man. A smile that quickly vanished as she once again remembered that she was naked and bound.

"Why... why am I naked?"

The man's eyes moved back to his clipboard as he made a few more tick marks. "It's part of our experiment. Don't worry, we're all doctors here, we've seen everything there is to see before."

The man stood up and moved close to Tiff's head, her nose almost touching the crotch of his black pants. For a moment Tiff started to panic again, believing that he was going to unzip his pants. She made a whimpering noise and closed her eyes tight. She felt him touch her face, lightly brushing her hair out of her eyes, before he slipped something like a cap over her head.

"This will tell us when you are not telling the truth." He tugged the tight fitting cap down, flattening her hair against her skull. "Remember, if you don't answer all of my questions honestly, we won't take you home."

Tiff opened her eyes in time to see him re-take his seat.

"Do you understand?"

"Yyyes... sir."

"Good girl." He cleared his throat. "Let's begin then, shall we?"

The man in white flipped the first page over the back of his clipboard.

"All of these questions are to be answered with either a yes or a no. You do not need to explain your answers; all we want is either yes or no. Every time you answer truthfully a green light will flash above your head; Every time you give a deceptive answer that light will flash red. We will not move on until you give a truthful answer, so the sooner you tell the truth, the faster we will be done." The man looked up from his clipboard. "Do you understand everything that I have told you so far?"

Tiffany nodded.

"Please say yes or no."

Her voice came out as a shaky whisper, "Y... y... Yes."

Reflected in the glass of both the TV screen and the camera lens, Tiff could clearly see a little green light flash on and off three times just over her head.

"Good girl." After making a mark on the page he flipped to the next.

"Are you currently in the sixth grade?"

"Yes," she responded with a little more confidence. 'Maybe this won't be so bad after all.' she thought to herself.

"Are you going to get straight A's this year?"

"Um... yes." Instead of the green light, she saw the red one flashing.

"Well... um... I'm going to try to, I mean. But, well, I'm having trouble with Algebra."

"Please," The man frowned at her, "Just a yes or a no answer. Are you going to get straight A's this year?”

Tiff sighed; she knew that she'd be lucky to get B's and C's.

"No."

The green light flashed three times.

"If you don't get good grades this year, will your parents punish you?"

"Yes." Again she sighed, knowing that if she went below a C she wouldn't be allowed to go camping with her friends in the summer.

"Will they ground you?"

"No." Her parents never had before.

"Will you receive a spanking?"

"Um..." She didn't want to say, it was embarrassing, but she knew she had to.

"Yes."

"Will it be your father who spanks you?"

"No."

"Will it be your mother?"

"Yes."

He made a few marks down the side of his papers. "Will she spank you over her lap?"

"Umm..." Tiff's face began to redden. "Yes."

"Will she make you take down your pants?"

"What?" Tiff was repulsed by the idea. "No!"

He made more tick marks. "Have you ever been sexually excited while she spanked you?"

"No!" She looked mortified. "That's sick!"

Her eyes grew wide as the reflected light flashed red. "That thing's lying! It's not true!"

"Tiffany, the machine doesn't lie. It can't," he smiled, "It's a machine."

"Well, I don't care what you say." she said angrily. "I've never liked getting spanked!"

The light flashed red.

"Tiff, the sooner you tell the truth, the sooner we get you home." He leaned back in his chair. "We have all the time in the world."

Her heart raced and pounded in her ears, she'd been caught and couldn't get out of it. One time, last year, she had been caught sneaking around in her parent’s closet. She'd been looking at her father's Playboys, had just carefully put them back after flipping through the glossy pages, when her mother caught her.

She was already aroused, the excitement of looking at something that she knew was forbidden and dirty flushing her body full of hormones. Her mother didn't know this of course, she only thought that her daughter was blushing out of fear, and as her hand administered it's punishment against her bottom, her whimpers of pleasure were mistaken for pain. Though Tiff had touched herself before in private, it had been her mother's firm hand that had taken her over the peak for the first time.

"Tiffany, I need an answer," He tapped the pen on the paper, "Yes or no."

"No... I... uh..." What was she going to do? What could she do? If she continued to lie she would be here forever, but if she told the truth? Oh man! If she told the truth he would know just what a pervert she really was! Her face burned red as she gave her answer.

"Yes... yes I got turned on. Are you happy now?" Fresh tears welled up and dripped to the tile floor below as the light finally flashed green.

"Thank you." He made a mark with his pen, his face not showing any response to her admission. "During that time, did you wish that your mother had pulled down your pants?"

God, what was he doing to her? Her brain warred with itself, fighting the desire to once again lie. She just wanted to go home, to be away from this place, away from this evil man asking questions that she didn't want to answer.

"Yy... yes..." she sobbed, "Please don't ask me any more questions. I... I just wanna go home."

"We've been through that already, Tiffany." He spoke firmly, like her father did when he was getting angry with her. "You have to answer all of my questions, and then, and only then, you can go home. So let's keep moving along, okay?"

Feeling defeated, Tiff slowly nodded.

"Good girl." Another of those damned tick marks. "Have you ever wanted your father to take over your punishments?"

A little hesitation; her voice getting caught in the middle of a sob. "No."

"Have you ever touched your vagina to gain pleasure?"

"Yesss." she slurred through her crying.

"Have you ever touched yourself while imagining your mother touching you?"

She closed her eyes, shutting out the room and wringing more tears free. "Yesss..."

"Have you ever wanted to touch your mother the way that you hoped she would touch you?"

"Oh... oh god, please," Her throat became sore and dry once again, "Please don't make me say it... I'm not a lezzy!"

"Tiffany, yes or no?"

"Yes! Yes!" she shouted, "I wanted her to touch meeeee !"

She wanted to break down, to shut down and just cry until she was empty, but he didn't let her. "Has anyone ever touched you sexually before?"

Tiffany shuddered in her bindings. "No..."

"So you are a virgin then?"

"Yesss..."

"Tiff, was your mother the only woman whom you have thought of sexually?"

A long pause, "No."

"Was she another relative?"

"No."

"A friend?"

Full of shame, she nodded.

"Yes or no, Tiff."

"Y... yes."

In her mind she called up an image of her best friend Kayleigh. She had always been so nice to her, and so pretty. They shared everything together, everything except for Tiff's true feelings for her.

"Is it Kayleigh Roberts?"

Tiff's eyes popped open as her heart stopped. "How? How did you know?"

No emotions on his face to speak of. "Yes or no, Tiff. Are you sexually attracted to Kayleigh Roberts?"

Her mouth hung open in total shock. These people, whoever they were, knew things about her that she hadn't even written down in her diary out of fear that it would one day be read by someone other than herself.

"Yes, but how did you..."

He cut off her question with another of his own. "Have you ever kissed her?"

The question took her by surprise and the answer was out before she could stop herself. "Yes, but we were just playing arou..."

"The kiss wasn't just playing around for you, was it Tiff?"

"What? Yes..." The light flashed red, "... I mean no. Slow dow..."

"That kiss turned you on, didn't it Tiff?"

"No... I mean yes... I mean..."

"You wanted that kiss to go further didn't you?"

"Yes... I... no... why are you..."

"You wanted her to kiss you back the way that you were kissing her, didn't you?"

"STOP! YES! YES I WANTED HER TO KISS ME FOR REAL!" She shook in frustration, in anger at herself and hatred for the man making her answer. "I'm not a lesbian... it was... it was just something that happened."

Over the echoing sounds of her sobs, she could hear the scraping of pen on paper as he made more notations. She was dying inside; wondering how he could know such intimate details of her life; wondering what he was writing down; wondering if she would ever get out of this place.

He finally stopped marking up his paper and turned to the next page.

"Good girl, Tiffany, you are doing well. It's time to move on to the next stage of questions, but first I need to check on something." He stood up and headed for the door, clipboard in hand. "I'll be right back."

Shhhrrrrrkt

The door opened for him and closed just as quick as he passed through, leaving her in silence once again. She relaxed in her restraints as best as she could. The collar supporting her neck was padded, but holding her head upright for so long had caused it to cramp slightly.

"Ayiiii !" she yelped as something touched her foot again.

"Who's there?" she called, but got no answer. Either they couldn't hear her on the other side of the wall or they were ignoring her.

Again she felt something brush against her skin, this time along the length of her calf. "Stop it! Stop touching me!"

It was a hand, definitely a hand. She could feel the fingers as they ran slowly up her leg to her bent knee before sliding up the length of her thigh.

Tiff struggled in her bindings, thrashing around as much as she could, but it was no use. The hand reached her bottom where it began to trace lazy circles on her flesh.

"No! Stop it! Don't!"

The finger grazed over the cleft of her bottom and repeated the same slow circles on her opposite cheek.

"Please, make them stop!" she pleaded to the camera. "Don't do this to me! You said only questions! You only wanted to ask questions!"

The hand withdrew, left her trembling skin, and Tiff sighed with relief at its absence. She imagined that it was the doctor, the same man who had been asking her questions just moments before, who had been touching her. She pictured him standing on the other side, his eyes wandering all over her naked body. The thought sent chills up and down her spine.

No one had seen her body since she had begun to change, to develop into the more familiar shape of a woman than that of a child. She noticed the boys at school paying her more and more attention, even some adults. It both frightened and excited her at the same time. She liked the extra attention, no one had ever looked at her that way before, but she had also heard stories. Stories about what boys like to do with girls, to girls. Most of it sounded sick to her. Sticking their things in a girl's mouth until they squirted? Yuck! No way was she ever going to do that.

And yet, there was that little part in the back of her mind that wanted to try it, despite how gross it sounded. She didn't like that part of her mind. The same part that had caused the tip of her tongue to slip from between her lips during her "play" kiss with Kayleigh. It was all just so confusing!

The touching began again; this time two hands, one on each of her ankles, slid slowly up her legs. It was a soft touch, barely perceptible, but it was there and Tiff knew she could not escape it.

'He's right between my legs!' she screamed in her head. 'Oh god, make him stop!' Her sobs filled the tiny room.

The two hands repeated the same steps as before. They ran up to her knees, then back up her thighs until they reached her bare bottom. Once there they tickled her skin, lightly danced on her cheeks raising goose bumps and sending tiny shivers all through her. They changed direction and moved down lower, touching the junction of inner thigh, buttock, and the beginnings of her vulva.

"Ohhh..." she gasped as the fingers grazed so close to her sex that she could sense their heat.

"Ohmmm..." She caught her herself almost groaning as they moved away without actually touching her exposed mound.

The hands moved to her sides and slowly roamed over her hips. Still they barely touched her, just finger nails grazing as soft as a feather. Further upwards they moved, leaving a growing trail of goose flesh in their wake as they traced up her sides to her rippling rib cage.

The touching and the fear of what was to come flushed her body, mixing in a way that she didn't believe possible before. A strange man was touching her, and her body was reacting despite her mind's pleas for him to stop.

"I don't want this..." she sobbed, but the little light flashed red.

The pair of hands slipped lower once they reached her armpits. An area that usually caused her to have fits of laughter when touched now caused her to gasp. Finger tips ran down the sides of her hanging breasts. Her temperature flared; sweat forming on her brow, the palms of her hands, her spine and the bottoms of her feet. Her nipples tightened and grew hard in anticipation of being touched, but they were denied. The mystery hands came within a hairs breadth of skimming her areola before retreating.

"Hymm..." she whimpered.

The hands became a little firmer on her. They turned palms down and began to rub and knead her back in a pleasant massage along her spine and shoulders. All over her back they traveled. Sometimes they came back to her buttocks, gripping and pulling her cheeks further apart, exposing her even more to the man's eyes. Her body felt as if it were on fire, burning up with a fever too high to be healthy.

Once again those loving hands moved up her rib cage. Her heart thundered in anticipation, hoping that this time, this time he would...

Shhktt

The sound of the door opening shocked Tiff back into reality. The doctor, the same one as before, strolled back into the room with his clipboard in tow. Her mind raced, 'If he's here, then who's touching me!'

"Sorry about the delay," he spoke as he took his seat again. "Let's get back to the questions, shall we?"

He offered her that same pleasant smile as her face contorted in confusion. The mysterious hands suddenly slipped lower than they had before, cupping both of her breasts and gently squeezing.

"Aah ." Her mouth fell open and her eyes bulged at the new sensation. Fingers sought out her hardened nipples and pinched softly. "Ah ah..."

"Good girl." He picked up his pen and flipped to the correct page. "Ready?"

The hands grasped and released, teased and rolled her nipples. It was a little painful, but something else too, something like a tickle in the back of her mouth had begun to throb in time with the manipulation of her body. It caused her breath to come in deeper and deeper gasps for air, her muscles to tighten and relax all on their own, along with one other side effect. She could feel her sex begin to flood with juices, the slippery liquid spilling out into the open air where it caught the draft that had played with her before the stranger had arrived to take its place.

The doctor cleared his throat but it seemed as if he were just a distant dream now. "Please answer the question Tiffany."

"Wha... what question?" Her mind drifted between the two of them. The stranger's hands were much more enjoyable than the doctor's damned questions.

The doctor spoke loudly and firmly, "Do you find men attractive?"

"I... oh... ah..." she struggled, trying put words together, "I... yeah."

"Do you find women attractive?"

"Mmm... uh... yeah."

"Do you find one sex more attractive than the other?"

"Yessss... mmm," not really answering his question. The hands had moved back to her bottom, very close to touching her sex, but the light flashed green anyway.

"Do you find men more attractive than women?"

The hand dipped and lightly grazed over her dripping pussy. "Yesss... OUCH!"

A million thoughts ran through her head at once. She had been feeling so good, lost in a dream as waves of pleasure rolled through her. Then with a suddenness that shocked her, pain shot through her upturned behind! The once soft and gentle hand of the stranger had turned on her. It had slapped her rear with a stinging force that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Wha... what just happened? Why did they spank me?"

"The second phase of your questioning has begun. On the other side of that wall," he pointed with his pen to the wall separating her head from the rest of her, "another experiment is being conducted. The person over there has been told to spank you, hard, every time the light on their side flashes red. Every time you give a false answer. Every time it turns green they are given instructions on how to make you feel good. Should they refuse to follow the instructions, they receive an electric shock.

"During the first phase of your questioning they refused to follow the instructions given to them. It was quite painful, and they are now finally responding. You are to pay them, and what they are doing to you, no mind. You are only to answer my questions with a yes or a no answer. Do you understand?"

"Yes... but?"

The red light switched to green and once more those hands returned to fondling her.

"No buts, Tiffany. No more questions from you, either. If you ever want to see your home again, you will have to answer my questions. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Oh... oh wow!" The mystery person once again found her pussy lips and began to trace along them with a single finger. The sensation nearly caused Tiffany to black out in pleasure.

"Good girl." He went back to his clip board and made some check marks down the side. "Now, do you find men more attractive than women?"

Tiffany drifted in her mind as the fingers began to delve into the folds of her privates. "Ohhhhh... ah... uh... ah..." she gasped before realizing that she had to give an answer, "Yes... OWWW! Fuck!"

The fingers had withdrawn and the slap delivered before she could mourn their loss. The pain shattered her hopes of further pleasure. This time tears did form in the corners of her eyes.

"Damn, that hurts!"

"Just answer the question truthfully, Tiffany. That's all you need to do."

"That's easy for you to say! You're not the one getting fondled by some pervert!"

"You should know, Tiff, every time that you give a false answer, the person on the other side gets a shock. Actually, a series of shocks that get worse until they spank you."

"I don't give a fuck!" Her bottom still throbbed. "Why should I care if some guy gets shocked? Fuck him, and fuck you!"

"Such foul language, Tiffany." He turned from her and pulled the television closer. "Maybe if you see who you are hurting, you'll be less inclined to lie and curse."

He pressed one of the black buttons that were lined up on the front of the box until it clicked. The TV made a few popping sounds as it crackled into life. The image on the screen slowly coalesced.

"Oh my god!" Tiff gasped. "Is... is that?"

"Yes Tiffany," he smiled smugly. "That is Kayleigh Roberts."

Tiff could not believe her eyes. There on the screen, in full color, was her best friend. She was almost nude, just a strange pair of black panties covering her up. Her long curly red hair was a dead give away to her identity. It hung down her milky white back, hiding from view a wide swath of the little freckles that dotted her entire body.

She was kneeling on the floor, a section of padding protecting her knees. The pink bottoms of her feet faced the camera; a matching set could be seen sticking out from either side of her shoulders. Tiff wiggled her toes and watched as the ones on the screen did the same.

"The device that she is wearing, the black panties, she can not remove them. It is positioned in such a way as to apply a shock directly to her genitals. It can also be used to give her pleasure, but only if she does as she's told, and only if you continue to tell the truth." The man turned a dial on the TV and suddenly Tiff could hear her friend breathing heavily.

"Does it turn you on to know that all of this time, it was Kayleigh who was touching you?"

Tiffany stared blankly at the screen. Even now, under these horrible circumstances, Kayleigh looked beautiful. "Yes..."

"Ohhhhhmmm..."

The moan came through the TV speaker accompanied by a low buzzing sound. Kayleigh began to rock her hips from side to side, her hands moving up to touch the bound girl in front of her.

"Ah... ha ha, uh... ohh…" Tiffany gasped as her friend's touch returned to her privates.

The man turned the volume back down before asking his next question. "Does it turn you on knowing that it was her hand that spanked you?"

"Ohhh... ah... yes..."

Tiffany watched as Kayleigh tilted her head, listening to a new instruction. Tiffany could finally see the face of the one she loved. Her cute button nose, slightly turned upwards, her cheeks rosy and bespeckled, her green eyes sparkling with a mix of tears and arousal. She was beautiful, just as beautiful as she looked on the day they kissed.

Kayleigh's hands took on a new urgency. One moved to squeeze Tiff's bottom again, the other found Tiff's swollen clitoris and began to make Tiffany sing, "Ooooh, ooooh! AHH! Oh, my god... Oh my god... ugn... ugn... hmmmm !"

The doctor’s voice cut through her song. "Do you like what is happening to you?"

"YES! Oh God... She's making me feel so..."

Her friend suddenly arched her back on the screen, her red hair whipping back and forth. "Ohh!"

"Do you like making your friend feel good, Tiffany?"

"YES! YES!" she screamed out her answer, hoping that it would somehow make Kayleigh's pleasure rise to match her volume. She could see her friend shaking, shuddering, and gasping. Between her own legs she could feel each jerk and twitch as it was transferred to her pussy through Kayleigh's fingers.

"Do you want to go home?"

His question went unheard as Tiffany moaned loudly. She was so close to cumming, so close to that peak of happiness that her mother's hand had taken her to before.

All of a sudden, Kayleigh stopped her movements and waited to be told what to do next. The wait nearly killed Tiffany. She tried to wiggle, to move her lower half to send a message to her friend not to stop.

"Answer my question, Tiffany; do you want to go home?"

Tiff struggled in her bonds, searching desperately for the hands that had left her body.

"Please! Don't stop! Pleeeeeeeassssse..." she whined.

"Answer my question. Do you want to go home?"

Finally his words sunk in. "No! No! Don't take me home! Not yet! Not yet, I'm sooo close!"

"Good girl."

Tiff's eyes ran back to the screen just in time to watch as her friend's face changed from stunned shock at hearing what her next instruction was, to sheer pleasure as the device between her legs sprang back to life.

Tiff waited in horrible anticipation, her muscles twitching, aching to be touched again. She didn't have to wait long. She watched in wonder as Kayleigh shuffled closer on her knees, placed her hands on Tiff's rear, and then leaned her head forward.

"Oh God! She's licking me! She’s licking my pussy!" Tiffany cried out in surprise. Kayleigh's tongue, hesitant at first, soon began to delve deeper and deeper into Tiffany's flower. She could feel her friend moaning into her, drinking her, lapping at her opening as if she were dying of thirst.