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Freshman year was tough. Everyone had warned Chrissy that it would be, but truthfully she had no idea how hard it would actually turn out to be.
Throughout high school she had been able to cruise through her class work virtually stress-free, graduating with a solid, slightly above the majority of her class grade point average. She would never admit it aloud, but deep inside she knew that her reputation as an All-American girl probably had given her the benefit of the doubt with her teachers more than once…not to mention her classic good looks.
But college was a whole different challenge. Just six weeks into her freshman year she had already studied more than she had during her entire high school experience. Her social life was non-existent. Instead of hitting the bars off campus on Thursday nights, she was in the library desperately trying to keep her head above water. If she was going to make it out of her first semester alive, she was going to need help. But her five professors all appeared to care less about her struggles…and the two male Profs were seemed impervious to even the most forward flirtations.
Then, as the fall break approached, an announcement was made that seemed to offer a glimpse of hope; even it was only in one class.
"Ladies and gentleman," her Sociology 110 professor announced in a monotone, not even bothering to look up from his notebook at the front of the auditorium. "Any students wishing to receive extra credit toward their final exam grade may sign up to participate in a sociology study being conducted by my teaching assistants and graduate degree students, Mister Jackson and Miss Poe, as they work toward their advanced degrees. Participation will be worth a ten-point addition to your final grade. See the TA's after class if you are interested. We only need two students, first come first serve."
Chrissy sat straight up, her dark brown ponytail bobbing as she did. "Ten points!" She thought to herself. "That's a full letter grade!"
When class was dismissed, the student all but long jumped her way to the end of the aisle. She was second in line behind another freshman girl, a cute redhead that usually sat one row in front of Chrissy during class.
"Congratulations," the male grad student said as he approached the eager 18-year olds with two standard legal forms snapped to a clipboard. He was a typical professor wannabe, conservatively dressed with short dark hair and glasses. "I just need you ladies to print your name, age, student ID number, and sign on the bottom two lines."
"Student ID number?" the redhead asked.
"Yes," the female TA spoke up with a soft smile from behind her black-rimmed glasses. Miss Poe always sat at a small desk next to the lectern during class and was gathering her papers into a leather attaché case. Beneath her mid-30's nerdy exterior one got the feeling that she could be much prettier if she ever bothered to try. "It's just your social security number, like how you signed in on the first day of class. We want to make sure the ten bonus points go to the correct students, right?"
The redhead filled out the top line and handed the clipboard over to Chrissy. With a quick glance, Chrissy saw that her name was Pam. "Thanks."
As he took the clipboard back, Mr. Jackson explained that the girls would be participating in an image and word association experiment. The idea was to see what effect – if any – the images and sounds from all forms of media actually have on the people exposed to them. Both freshmen would need to come to the graduate student lab just two doors down from the classroom at 5 pm sharp one day per week for the next four weeks. "Pam, why don't you come on Tuesdays, starting tomorrow, and Chrissy you stop by on Wednesdays. Don't worry. We should have you in and out of here in about an hour each time."
The look and smirk shared between the two graduate students were so sly and so quick they were barely perceptible…and totally missed by the girls.
The next two days were more of the same for Chrissy – class, study, eat, sleep. Her life had become so cyclical that she found herself actually looking forward to the sociology study. At least it was something different to do. She had hoped to ask Pam how her first visit to the lab had gone when they saw each other in class on Wednesday morning, but the redhead hadn't shown up. Chrissy figured she must have gone out the night before and decided to cash in one of her three absences.
At 4:58 pm Chrissy knocked on the door of the grad student office, fresh from her aerobics class at the student center gym. Despite her brutal schedule, she never missed her exercise class and was still a little sweaty beneath her workout clothes - a short-sleeved university t-shirt, gray Russell running shorts, and a hooded sweatshirt rolled up and tied around her waist by the sleeves. She had always prided herself on looking "put together" and so she had stopped in the hallway bathroom just long enough to put on a little powder, mascara, and lip gloss. As she walked down the hallway, she was surprised at how empty the science building was. Wow, she thought to herself, these professors sure bolt out of her in a hurry when classes are over.
"Come on in, Chrissy," Mr. Jackson called out from inside the small office. When she walked in, the student saw the two TA's sitting side by side, discussing something on the computer screen in front of them. When they saw her, they quickly clicked the window closed.
"Have a seat," Miss Poe said as she stood and offered her chair. "Thanks so much for agreeing to help us."
"No problem," the female grad student always helped Chrissy relax with her soft eyes and calming speech. "So, how exactly am I going to help?"
Poe wore a white lab coat, which Chrissy briefly thought odd for a sociology student, and leaned back onto the desk behind her. "We as Americans are bombarded each and every day with thousands of images, sounds and words everywhere we go. TV, radio, the Internet, newspapers, movies, everything. As you know, there has always been a debate over what kind of damage this rapid-fire imagery is actually doing to our minds. Parents claim it causes their kids to suffer from attention deficit disorder. People blame the Columbine tragedy on The Matrix . Ted Bundy said he thought nothing of women because his mind was altered by exposure to pornography."
"So," Mr. Jackson spoke up now. "We are going to flash images and sounds to you, all taken from American pop culture. Some will be pleasant, some not so pleasant. And we want to monitor your reaction to those things that we expose you to."
"Oh okay," Chrissy paused, choosing her words carefully before speaking for fear of blowing her chance at the ten bonus points. "Um, how unpleasant?"
"Nothing anymore violent or sexual than you might see on HBO every night," he explained as he pulled some wiring from a drawer. "Now if you will come with us, we'll get started and get you out of here before rush hour at the dining hall."
They walked across the hallway and into a very small room, not much bigger than a typical walk-in closet. In the center of the room was a old leather recliner, patched together in places with what appeared to be vinyl tape. On the wall was mounted a fairly large television screen, maybe 40 inches across, and only a few feet from the foot of the recliner, cramped by the quarters of the tiny space.
"This is our video screening room," Miss Poe explained. "You get comfortable in the chair and I will start turning things on in here."
She clicked on the television, upon which a standard set of color bars was shown with the words "SOC. DEPT" typed across the black car than ran through the center of screen. Once Chrissy was settled in, Mr. Jackson explained the next step.
"We have some standard electrode patches here, like you would find connected to any hospital EKG. I am going to put six of these on some of your pulse point - two on either side of your neck, one on each bicep, and one on each of your thighs. They stick to your skin directly with a little foam tape, and they won't hurt when we remove them. Would you mind rolling up your t-shirt sleeves for me? Thanks."
The dabs of prep gel and each electrode patch were cold as first touch, but soon warmed on Chrissy's skin. Mr. Jackson politely asked his female partner to position the pads on the insides of the freshman's thighs, just slightly below the hem of her cotton running shorts, citing how inappropriate it would be for him to do so. He attached tiny white wires to each of the six patches and then excused himself from the room, explaining that he would be controlling the video playback from a computer across the hall in the lab office.
"Two more things, Chrissy, and we will be finished. I am going to put these earpieces in for you. We used to play the audio directly from the television speakers, but we got too many complaints from other professors and TA's on the hall about the noise."
"Is that why all of that foam is on the walls?"
"Exactly, that's soundproofing material. Just like you would see in a recording studio. Once I shut the door, you can't hear a thing outside in the hallway, but we started using the earphones anyway just to make the University administration happy."
The plastic pieces slid into the brunette's ear canals, made easy by the fact that her hair was up in its practically permanent ponytail. Miss Poe pulled a tiny headset from her lab coat pocket and slipped it onto her head, reminding Chrissy of the microphone she wore while working the drive thru at McDonald's two summers ago. With a click, she could hear the grad student speak to her.
"Can you hear me okay? Good. Alright, last step. A lot of movement has a tendency to alter our readings from the EKG monitor, so I am going to immobilize you just a bit."
Immobilize? Chrissy was already a little nervous, but now she was just confused.
"It's nothing, just a couple of straps over your forearm so they sit flush to the arms of the chair. This is an old machine that was donated from the local hospital and even the slightest movements alter our chart readings." With a tug, what Chrissy thought was tape holding an old chair together was actually revealed as nylon straps that now pulled her forearms down hard into the fake leather.
"Wait, Miss Poe…"
Similar strips were produced and strapped around her ankles, just above the tops of her Reebok running shoes. Next came what looked like an airplane seat belt, a click and another tug pulled on her hips and forced her lower back into the crease between the back and seat sections of the chair. As the girl visibly began to panic, the grad student stood and looked her directly in the eyes.
Click… "Chrissy, trust me. This is just a precaution to ensure that our study goes off without a hitch. Mr. Jackson and I have been working on this research for two years now and we really do appreciate you helping us out. Okay?"
She smiled that warm, reassuring smile again, and Chrissy relaxed, though still a bit nervous. "Okay," she replied with a shaky sigh of relief.
"Alright then. I'm heading across the hall. Have fun, alright? We'll be done in no time."
With that, the TA turned and left, flicking off the light switch and shutting the door behind her. Now Chrissy sat alone in the tiny room, her face lit by the color bars coming from the television screen, unable to hear a thing and able only squirm in the chair.
Click… "Okay, Chrissy." It was the voice of Mr. Jackson. "We're going to start now. Just relax and react naturally to what you see. The computer will show us how the visuals affect your heart rate and body temperature. We can also see you by way of a video camera mounted in the wall above the TV. If you start to get claustrophobic or just need a break, wave your left hand. Can you do that for me? Good, we can see it. I know it's tough with the straps. Thanks again for doing this."
The color bars disappeared. For a brief second, the screen was black and the room was totally dark, but then a picture popped up. It was the beginning of a montage of news footage. First a story about the economy from CNN, then a report on the Laci Peterson murder trial from ABC News. The audio was being pumped directly into her ears via the headphones.
Next was a series of television commercials – one for Pepsi, then one for Viagra. The third ad was for Wal-Mart. Now totally relaxed, Chrissy began to wonder to herself what was so unusual about this. It looked like normal channel surfing to her.
That's when the then visions began to change.
First was a provocative Victoria's Secret spot. Strong, beautiful women strode across the screen to the boldface question "What is sexy?" She had seen the ad a million times before, but the pulsing techno beat in her earpieces gave the visuals a new, more sensual feeling.
Little did the freshman know that she had begun a climb through what was a very carefully selected series of television excerpts, each designed to be more sexually provocative than the next. A ramping up of her mind…and more importantly, her body. Across the hall, the two grad students smiled as they watched the digital readouts in front of them begin a slow, ragged climb upward.
The Victoria's Secret ad gave way to a passionate scene from a daytime soap opera. That led to an even more explicit vision, this time from what looked to be a run-of-the-mill late night Cinemax movie. Chrissy was surprised at her reaction. She had never been one to shy from a sexy late night cable movie, but this was different. Perhaps it was from the moans of pleasure and slow beat music being fed in surround sound stereo directly into her ears.
Next was a clip straight from pay-per-view porn. A busty blonde was stroking and licking a tremendously large cock…the slurps and moans getting louder and louder.
"I…I…think I need a break," Chrissy called out into the room, eyes fixed on the blow job before her. The request disappeared into the soundproofing without as much as an "I" reaching the outside.
She had always scolded her friends for renting and watching porn with their boyfriends, but now her body was betraying her moral conscious. She could feel herself becoming wet, but her instinctive wish to close her legs and hide that fact were done in by her ankle bonds.
The blonde slut on the screen bobbed up and down faster and faster, then pulled back her head and stroked the cock furiously. What seemed to be a gallon of white cum exploded onto her face, coating her blue mascara eyes and painted cherry red lips…
In that instant, the color bars popped back onto the screen and the light in the room came on. Standing before her were the two grad students, both with giant smiles on their faces. As Miss Poe reached for the button on her headset, Mr. Jackson went about checking the EKG patches and their wire connections.
Click… "Very good, Chrissy. You really seemed to be enjoying yourself there. I don't blame you. I picked out those scenes and edited them together myself. Sometimes being a sociology student has its benefits. Would you like some water?"
Still tense from being shocked out of her sexual trance, Chrissy nodded, oblivious to the man placing his fingers on the electrodes taped to her limbs. His shyness about the subject's privacy now apparently gone, he replaced the white wires that were attached to the patches on her inner thighs with equally thin red cables. He smiled slightly when he noticed the small wet spot in the center of her gym shorts.
Poe opened a bottle of water and held it up to the freshman's lips. She also brushed away the few strands of Chrissy's bangs that had begun to stick to her forehead with sweat.
Click… "It looks like your sensors are all still good and in place. We are getting some great data in the other room."
"How…long…has it been since we started?" The teenager was completely out of breath, certain the hour was nearly up.
Click… "About fifteen minutes. Only 45 to go!" And with that, the pair was gone and the student was alone in the dark once again.
Again, the screen flicked alive with pornography. A woman's face was in the center of the screen, hair teased out and face totally made up. In from each side of the screen bobbed two hard cocks. The woman reached out with each hand and began to stroke each member furiously. The camera stayed fixed on her face as her eyes darted back and forth from dick to dick.
Meanwhile, a sultry female's voice joined the sounds of duel hand jobs in Chrissy's headphones.
"You love the thought of two cocks in your face, don't you? The wish that two loads of cum would end up all over you…all over your face, your tits, your tongue. You really are a slut, aren't you?"
Chrissy knew it wasn't possible, but it was as if the voice in her ears was speaking directly to her. She felt her face grow flush when she realized that she had begun to nod "yes" to the woman's question.
The woman on the screen kept pumping away, and soon she had her head tilted back and mouth wide open, waiting on the two anonymous men to burst.
Totally entranced by the vision in front of her, Chrissy began to feel warmth beneath her bottom. She looked down, pushing her bottom back into the seat to try and detect the source of the sensation. The realization made her panic. The seat was vibrating beneath her.
Click…it was Miss Poe. "Chrissy, your heart rate just jumped tremendously. Is everything okay?" Then, just as the grad student's transmission clicked off, the freshman thought she heard something that worried her – laughter.
When she looked back up from her soaking and vibrating crotch, the woman on the television screen was covered in cum, licking it from her lips and staring directly into the camera lens and straight into the bound student's eyes.
"Stop fighting it, Chrissy. Go on and cum if you want to."
This was too much, too personal. The teenager began to break down, thrashing against her bonds and screaming to be freed. The cum-soaked woman on the TV screen just kept smiling at her and saying her name. The sounds of sex were mixed in over the woman's voice, becoming louder and louder in her ears. The vibrating pad beneath her continued to hum away, the lap belt keeping her ass held firmly onto the oscillating seat cushion. She clinched her fists and squeezed her eyes tightly shut to keep from looking at the television, but there was nothing she could do about the sound…or the rhythm under her bottom, the leather seat now soaked with sweat and her own juices.
Meanwhile, a group of professors stood directly outside the door of the room in which she was held. They idly chatted about lesson plans, golf, and the weather, totally oblivious to the fact that a sexually tortured young girl was strapped to a recliner just a few feet away. The soundproofing had been worth every penny the grad students' grant money had paid.
Click…It was Poe again. "Okay, Chrissy, dear. It's time to stop fighting this."
On their television monitor in the lab, they could see the girl had shut her eyes in defiance and was shaking her head back and forth, crying "No! No!"
The female grad student was a little irritated by the girl's reaction. Her research had predicted that a young girl of relatively no sexual experience should have given in by now. Then again, that's why they had devised what she and her lab partner had coldly labeled "Stage 2: Coercion." Without looking away from the video feed on her monitor, Miss Poe pointed to her fellow TA, "I think Miss Chrissy needs a little encouragement to cooperate."
Without as much as a smile, Jackson rapped a series of keys on his computer. His right hand on the mouse, he right clicked. In an instant, the EKG monitor went off the chart.
For a second, Chrissy had thought that she could beat this. Perhaps, she thought, she could hold off these overwhelming sexual urges long enough to discourage the sick bastards in the other room and force them to let her go.
That's when the shock came.
The jolt of electricity had traveled through her body like a camera flash. It forced her eyes open, her body taut, and her mouth to drop wide open in a gasp for air. At first, it hadn't seemed real, but actual reality was reinforced by the second wave of shocking sensations.
By the third jolt, the nearly broken coed had realized that the sensation was entering her from inside her thighs. The red wires that had replaced the whites on the electrodes beneath her the hem of her shorts weren't EKG monitors at all. They were conductors of electricity. The horror of that fact caused a tiny tear to well up in the corner of her left eye. She looked upward to the camera on the wall.
Click…Poe spoke. "I see you have been introduced to our encouragement techniques. Listen, Chris, we can tell that you are enjoying this. The scientific data does not lie. Your body temperature, your heart rate, your eyes, they all show us that you are teetering on the brink of an orgasm. Not to mention the wet spot we noticed between those beautiful thighs of yours. As much time as you have been spending in the library, I doubt you have had one in a while, no?"
Her breathing ragged and her chest heaving up and down, the freshman lab rat dropped her eyes at the words from across the hallway. Now the voice in her ear that had once provided so much comfort was now much more hardened and direct.
"Now we will let you out of here only after you cum. Whether it takes you five minutes or five days. And just so you know that you aren't alone in liking this kind of treatment, check out your television monitor."
Chrissy raised her head, gasping at what she saw.
The image was grainy, but there was no question as to what – or who – it was. It was video of the very room and the very chair that she was now strapped to. Only the girl bound to the recliner wasn't herself. It was Pam. Her tiny arms were bound to the arms of the chair just as Chrissy's now were, but the rest of her bondage was much more elaborate. A wide black collar was around her neck and appeared to be attached to the headrest of the chair, keeping her head from thrashing about. Her long red hair was tied in a topknot ponytail, standing nearly straight up to make room for a criss-crossing of black leather straps that harnessed her face, culminating in a round red ring gag that held her mouth wide open. The girl's eyes were wide, wildly darting back and forth from behind the harness gag.
Click… "This was last night. Your friend here resisted for nearly six hours. So, we had to take her to another level in order to thoroughly complete our research."
As Chrissy continued to study the form before her, she realized that the girl's t-shirt had been ripped open down the middle, exposing her handful-sized breasts. White electrode patches circled each exposed nipple, with more down the center of her chest and along her belly.
Pam's legs were not bound like Chrissy's had been, instead they were pulled up and draped over the arms of the leather recliner. Straps around her knees and ankles kept her legs bent and, as Chrissy noticed with horror, her middle completely exposed. The redhead's shorts had been cut away, but her pink cotton panties were left on. The material was thin and failed to cover the semicircles of more white patches, electrodes that had clearly been adhered to the lips of her sex. Wires ran from beneath her underwear to places unseen on the television. They were all red, not white.
Click… "You see, Chrissy, there is no need for us to go here with you, is there?"
As if on cue, the bound girl on the video screen began to moan loudly as her body rose up against her bonds and she began to shake. The moans become stuttered and guttural, almost animal, as the ring gag kept poor Pam's mouth pried open. A long strand of drool began to run down from her lower lip and onto her exposed chest.
Chrissy frozen posture and widened eyes showed a girl who was terrified for her life. But the data streaming across the lab computer screen told a different story.
"Look at her heart rate!" Jackson said to Poe. "She's getting close, but I think she's about to plateau again. Should we go back to the stock footage that you pulled?"
"No," his lab partner said firmly, finger hovering over the button on her microphone. "Keep rolling the footage of Pam."
What Chrissy saw next both horrified her and showed her where she was inevitably headed. Pam's entire body was flush and sweat was rolling from between her exposed tits and down her belly line to her wired, pantied crotch. She tensed up, obviously reacting to a mild electrical shock…then tensed again…and again.
Now every time the girl on the television screen jerked in reaction, Chrissy did as well. The pulses being sent to her body were in rhythm with the ones that jolted poor Pam on the videotape. With each convulsion, Chrissy's bottom lifted up off the seat just a little. But when the charge stopped, her tight little bum would come to rest on the leather again, hummed to the edge by the vibrations below.
The cycle continued over and over. Shock…hum. Shock…hum. With each shock, the sounds of Pam's moans increased in Chrissy's earpiece. All the while, the female sadist across the hall repeated what the poor girl once resisted but now began to believe.
Click… "Let's go, slut. Give in. Your body is betraying you. It tells the truth. You love this. Being used. You little freshman slut…"
Shock…hum…moan. Shock…hum…moan. Shock…hum…
Then it happened.
At first, the coed thought that it was just another electrical charge. But this time the feeling came not from the insides of her thighs, but higher. The tingling sensation radiated out, washing over her legs and torso. Her fists clinched and her eyes slammed shut, the noise that escaped her mouth was from deep down within her chest. The long, sustained groan was followed by short, rapid breaths and another beastly moan. On the monitors across the hall, every line and every number suddenly escalated to the highest points on every screen and every chart.
Her tiny body bucked and jerked and shook violently, the straps stretched but still holding her fast. Her nipples hardened to the point that they now showed clearly through her sports bra and t-shirt, aching to be released. The wet spot between her thighs had swollen as well, revealed and hidden over and over again as she involuntarily ground herself against the vibrating seat pad.
He head tossed side to side, her ponytail coming undone and sweat pouring from her forehead. Mascara was starting to run down her face, tiny dark trails dripping from her defiantly-clinched eyes.
Finally, her body became nearly rigid and straight, testing the limits of her bondage. Her mouth opened wide as she tried to breath…and suddenly her eyes flew open.
With a gasp, her hands came open, all ten fingers pointing straight out and spread. And with a screaming moan, the final release occurred, the seemingly endless torrents of her orgasm spilling over her body.
Across the hall, it took all that the two graduate students could muster not to stand and cheer or simply give in and cum themselves.
Totally wrecked, Chrissy collapsed back into the chair, her breathing stilted and broken and her body left to the occasional twitch. Her head cocked to one side, she opened her eyes to look at the TV screen. There was Pam, still resisting her treatment, despite the addition of what looked like suction devices on her nipples.
My God, Chrissy thought to herself, why won't she just give in?
Click… "There now, Chris. That wasn't so bad, was it?"
The broken girl turned her eyes upward to the camera above, its tiny red light staring down at her like some twisted evil eye.
"Poor Pam didn't break for another hour yet. We had to resort to some pretty, shall we say, creative means to finally get her there. You are a good girl to go on and cooperate."
As Miss Poe's voice continued on, Chrissy fought to keep her eyes open. How could I be sleepy, she thought. I have to stay awake. They will be in here soon to let me go and I must report this to the police. But…I…am…so sleepy.
"Keep talking," Jackson said to his research partner as he continued to hold down the left click button on his mouse. "The gas is entering the room through the air conditioning vent. Her vitals are really starting to slow down now."
Her eyelids almost completely closed now, Chrissy began to give in to her sleepiness. Even the occasional hard breath or spontaneous body jerk were not enough to wake her. As she drifted off to her gas-aided slumber, she heard Poe's voice one more time.
Click… "You get some rest now, girl. You'll need it."