"Shannon's Ascension"

By Thomas Chaser

(Skullchaser@yahoo.com)

_________________

The consultancy offices were easy to find - a modern one-story office building, well landscaped, with a handful of parking places near the entrance. Shannon didn't have a car since most of her daily needs were fulfilled by the university, so she walked the few short blocks to the offices. She entered the small lobby and went to the receptionist's station, a simple window cut into the side of the wall with a narrow shelf upon which rested a small silver bell. A textured plastic pane separated her from the persons on the other side of the wall. Shannon rang the bell and the frosted plastic panel slid back. A woman with blonde-hair and blue eyes, not much older than Shannon, looked up from her computer, "Yes? May I help you?"

"I'm Shannon McKinney. I'm here about the modeling assignment you advertised in the Daily Crier ? The one about demonstrating items on a lecture tour?"

The woman looked at her quizzically "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't … oh, wait … you must be looking for Annette. One moment and I'll get her." The panel slid closed and Shannon could hear voices emanating from the other side, first the receptionist's voice, and then another woman's voice, slightly deeper. After a moment, the door next to the panel opened and a woman, in her mid-forties and wearing a grey business skirt and jacket very similar to Shannon's, appeared. "Hello, I'm Annette. I understand you're here about the modeling job?"

Shannon looked at the woman and said "Yes, the advertisement said that it was mostly preparing demonstration materials." The woman laughed and replied, "Right, that's the one. Not only will you be helping prepare the demonstrations, but you'll also be acting as scenery excitement. You know, adding some dazzle to the props, sort of like the models on game shows, you 'sell the steak'", the woman explained and gestured with her hands, mimicking the flash of a camera. "Normally we use the same girl for this, but our normal model, Caroline over there," Annette waved towards the receptionist, "hurt her ankle recently and can't do the work. We didn't want to let her go so she's acting as our receptionist until her leg feels better and then she's going back on the lecture tour, so this will be a pretty short assignment." Cocking her head, Annette continued, "Short-term assignment work is hard to fill. A lot of the girls the modeling agency sends over aren't suitable and the good ones tend to want longer employment commitments. I hope you didn't have any long-term expectations about this job."

"Oh, that's quite alright," Shannon replied, "I'm eager to … well, really I'm just … well, I don't know what to say!" Annette looked at her with quizzical concern. Shannon quickly added, "I mean, I'm sure this is a wonderful job."

Annette accepted her explanation and handed Shannon a clipboard. "That's fine. Just complete these forms and return them to Caroline, then we'll give you a quick physical." Shannon looked at Annette, puzzled. Annette continued, "Its just a formality. We require all of our employees to undergo a routine physical as part of the group insurance plan. Rather than pay another physician to do the work, we just do it ourselves and submit the paperwork to the insurance company. We also like to administer a drug test, but that usually takes awhile to get back from the lab, so given the urgency of this assignment I think we can let that slide this time." Nodding her head, Annette turned and disappeared down the hallway.

Shannon completed the forms and gave the clipboard to Caroline. She smiled and gestured towards the hallway, "Ok, just go through the door and wait in the first examination room on the right. The doctor should be here any minute and he can go ahead and give your physical today. You know, you're very lucky that you got this assignment and that you can get this preliminary stuff taken care of so quickly," Caroline chatted, still seated at her desk, "When I took this job, I had to wait a week for the interview, and then two more weeks for the drug tests to come back from the lab. It's a pretty easy job, really, and it pays exceptionally well. And, this is a great way to get over any sort of jitters about speaking to an audience!"

"Well," Shannon explained, returning Caroline's giggle, "I've done some modeling work for friends but never anything professionally. I still have some reservations about whether I'm qualified for this or not."

"Well, trust me, this is a fantastic job," Caroline chirped, "and you should hold up well."

Shannon walked the few steps to the door Annette had indicated and entered the room. It was like most medical exam rooms she'd been in. It was small, and in the center was a padded examination table with silver stirrups mounted at the corners, a small stool next to it, and a chair off to the side. Wooden cabinets lined the walls on the other side, with jars of cotton swabs, bandages, and tongue depressors sitting on top of the counter. Shannon was sitting in the chair when she heard the door open. Startled, she stiffened up quickly and straightened her jacket. A man entered the small room. "Hello, Shannon, I'm Doctor Wellington."

The man was in his late thirties and wore a dress shirt, tie, suit pants, and the ubiquitous white jacket that let everyone know he was a doctor. A stethoscope was draped around his neck. He extended his hand. "I'm glad to meet you. I've been reading your forms and I just have a few more questions that I think this exam should answer." Shannon stood up and accepted his handshake. The doctor continued, "If you'll remove your jacket and blouse, we'll go ahead and get started."

Shannon unbuttoned her suit jacket, slid it off her shoulders, and folded it neatly, laying it on the chair next to the exam table. The doctor turned to the side and pulled open a drawer, withdrawing an inflatable cuff and bulb. Even though he was a doctor, Shannon felt just a bit embarrassed at the thought of placing her feet in those stirrups and exposing herself to a man she had only just met. "Oh, don't be silly," she thought to herself, "he's a doctor and its completely legitimate; besides, you're still wearing your bra."

Slipping off her blouse and laying it on top of her jacket, Shannon took her place on the exam table and extended her left arm. The doctor slipped the cuff over her left bicep, inflating the inner tube. Shannon could feel the throbbing in her arm. The doctor took the readings, made a notation, and released the air from the cuff. "Your blood pressure is very good. I saw on your forms that you exercise regularly. Congratulations because its paying off." The doctor smiled at her warmly and placed the ends of the stethoscope in his ears. He cradled the metal disk in his hands to warm it, then placed it against her chest. "Breath normally for me, please. Ok, hold it. Now exhale. Good." He moved the disk to the other side and repeated the process, then did the same from the back. "Excellent, you have good lungs, but I expected no less from a runner, of course." Shannon smiled at his compliment. "Now, please remove your bra so that I can administer the breast exam."

Shannon was startled, but again she chastised herself. It was common knowledge that women should receive regular breast exams, and he was a doctor, but she had never had one before. She unfastened the front clasp of her bra and slid it down her arms, folding it in half and placing it on her blouse and jacket. She could feel her nipples begin to harden, and in a slight fit of modesty, she held her elbows close to her sides, but stopped herself from raising her hands to cover herself - after all, this was perfectly normal - and instead folding them neatly in her lap. The doctor had his back turned to her while he wrote in her medical folder. "In fact, why don't you go ahead and remove your skirt and shoes as well. I'll be performing an exam of your pubic region to monitor for STDs." Stunned, Shannon paused a moment, then laughed at herself for being such a prude. "Is there a problem, Shannon?" the doctor asked without turning from the folder. "Hmm? No, I'm fine," she replied.

"Ok, please raise your left arm for me," the doctor said, turning towards her. Cradling her left breast in his palm, he squeezed softly, then probed along the edge of her pectoral muscle with his fingers. He stared intently at her left nipple, then traced a line with his finger around the circumference of her areola, watching it pucker. "Good, you have good color. No signs of bruising or ruptures, and the nerves appear to be sufficiently sensitive. Now for the other side." Shannon blushed slightly. She hadn't expected him to touch her nipple like that.

She had always thought her breasts were too small. During puberty, she had watched the other girls develop early and attract the attention of the hormone-driven boys, and with her slight build she had always felt inferior. She had compensated by joining the track team, to be with other girls whom she considered skinny, in an attempt to gain acceptance through sports. She had met most of her boyfriends through the track team, but inevitably they left her for girls that could fill out their letterman sweaters better. After entering college she had continued her training regimen and had matured into quite a stunning beauty, lean and toned with clear skin and dark brown hair. She had gained weight and she knew she had developed curves in all the right places, including a new bra size, but still she harbored a slight insecurity about herself, about her body. She had always managed to attract dancing partners at the fraternity parties but had allowed only a few boys to get very far with her despite their best efforts. And they did try hard. But the few times she had spoken with them about her fantasies had seemed to make the boys uneasy. A few guys had given it a good honest try, but the sex had been clumsy and certainly less fulfilling to Shannon than for the boys, and the relationships had never lasted.

The doctor probed the pectoral line of her right breast, repeating his stimulation of her nipple, letting it pucker into a hard tip adorning the soft skin of her breast. "Good, everything is perfectly healthy. You're in tip-top shape, Shannon." He smiled at her. She was beginning to loosen up, to feel more comfortable with him now. "If you'll just lean back and put your feet in the stirrups, I'll begin the vaginal scan." This was the moment Shannon had dreaded. She had always felt uncomfortable with these types of examinations, knowing that soon the doctor would be focusing on the most intimate part of her body. On a few occasions with her previous doctors she had actually started to become aroused, and with her knees spread wide for the exam it was impossible to hide her wetness.

Shannon lay back on the exam table, the paper crinkling under her back as it compressed into the padded foam lining. To help with the process, she spread her knees a bit. "Ah, thank you. Just a bit more please," the doctor said calmly. She spread her legs until she could feel the resistance of her inner thighs. "Everything appears to be ok so far, but I'm going to need to have a look at your cervix," he said, as he removed a pair of surgical gloves from his coat pocket. Shannon, trying to act as casually as she could, watched as he began to look at her sex.

Wheeling the stool over, the doctor moved between her knees, bringing his face closer to her mound. She could feel his breath between her thighs and on her tummy. Softly, he parted the lips of her slit with his gloved fingers and inserted his thumbs to open her up. Shannon twitched with nervousness as he probed her mound, and she tried to calm herself by closing her eyes and taking easy, controlled breaths. Keeping her eyes closed, she pulled her arms back and locked her fingers behind her head, trying to act relaxed, as if she was by her dormitory's pool sunning herself. With her eyes closed, she couldn't see the doctor's appreciative glances at her body.

She was trim, with a lean flat belly and strong legs of a runner. Her breasts, only slightly flattened from lying on her back, were firm and pale, and her nipples had been tugged into slight ovals as she had placed her hands behind her head. A naturally thin line of fur covered her sex, accentuating the slenderness of her body. Her straight brown hair, normally pulled back into a ponytail, was splayed around her head, framing the exquisite features of her face. The winter months had removed most of the tan lines of summer so that the triangle of her hips was only slightly paler than her legs. Her eyelashes fluttered nervously as the doctor continued to probe her mound. She could feel herself starting to get aroused by his expert touching, and she tried to fight it, trying to avoid possible embarrassment. The doctor, sensing her excitement, deliberately probed a bit deeper with his fingers. She was definitely starting to become aroused, and her nipples were so hard that they actually hurt. She twitched as the doctor found her g-spot, and the muscular lines of her stomach and thighs danced under the lights of the exam room. The doctor knew she was becoming hot and he continued to massage her, feeling the wetness building, before withdrawing his index finger.

Shannon suddenly felt the cold steel surface of the speculum pressing against her labia and she gasped audibly as it was inserted within her. The unrelenting metal was very cold and the sudden pressure was almost painful. Unapologetic, the doctor moved the instrument within her tunnel, then turned the screw, opening her wide to his unrelenting gaze. He produced a small penlight and shone it down her snatch, her pubic hairs coming ablaze with wayward light. To Shannon, it seemed like an eternity, sitting there naked on the table, her knees spread wide while the man ran his fingers along her snatch and the cold steel instrument pressed against the walls of her tunnel, reaching deep inside her. She could feel herself becoming very, very moist and she knew the doctor could smell her arousal. She trembled at his touch, unable to control herself. If this lasted much longer…

"Ok, Ms. McKinney. I'm going to take a sample now. You may get a feeling of fullness and possibly some cramping. Let me know if it becomes too uncomfortable." Shannon smiled as she thought to herself, "the whole damn thing is uncomfortable!"

The doctor reached for the spatula and inserted it into her body, slowly guiding it along the length of her pussy. She could feel the instrument as it brushed against her cervix and she spasmed reflexively. Her taut stomach muscles tightened as she fought her involuntary reaction. The doctor's manipulation of her body had triggered a reaction that she couldn't stop. She could feel the familiar warmth of arousal beginning to envelope her body.

"Fine, fine, Ms. McKinney. Your vaginal canal is splendid. I'll conduct the bimanual exam now, but I want to leave the speculum in for a bit and take some measurements. Now, if you'll just relax, I'm going to check for proper ovarial development. This may hurt just a little."

Shannon exhaled slowly, releasing the stress she was feeling from being exposed on the table to a complete stranger, but also to release some of her sexual tension.

The doctor placed a hand over her vulva, then moved it up and pressed against the lower part of her belly, feeling for the slight resistance of her sex organs just below the skin. The doctor's other hand moved to the tiny lockscrew on the speculum and began to turn it, causing the jaws to separate a fraction with each turn. Shannon began to feel extremely full as the speculum increased its pressure on her vaginal wall, stretching her wide. She inhaled deeply, absorbing the pressure she was feeling in her pelvis, and arched her back, trying to accommodate the increasing size of the instrument buried deep within her. Suddenly she couldn't hold it any longer. "Ow Ow Ow Ow….please…" she begged, wincing with pain from the pressure below.

"Hold on, Shannon. Just relax and let yourself go. I need to leave you fully dilated for a moment so I can record the measurement." The doctor made some notations in the file and turned back to his patient.

Suddenly Shannon felt something pressing against her puckered asshole. "Relax for me please, Ms. McKinney. I need to open you up to check your anal elasticity while your vagina is fully dilated. If you fight it, you'll just hurt yourself. Just relax and take it nice and easy for me," the doctor said in a low tone, "that's right, just relax… nice and easy…"

Shannon tried to relax but the pressure in her vagina was very strong. She held herself up, her back arched to accommodate the speculum's expanding jaws, as the doctor forced his thumb into her anal opening. She winced as it slid in, unaccustomed to the feeling of something being inserted there. A boy had tried to poke her there once and he had learned a hard lesson afterwards. This was different. This was a man who was examining her body, for science and medicine. She could feel him moving around inside her; feeling him as he felt her from the inside out.

"You've passed. Congratulations," the doctor said triumphantly, snapping the speculum closed, removing it from her, and peeling the gloves from his hands, "You're in fine shape. You can go ahead and get dressed. I'll submit the forms to the insurance company this afternoon and Caroline will get you ready for the assignment. When you arrive tomorrow, Caroline should have your employment papers ready."

"Tomorrow?" Shannon murmured, opening her eyes.

"Yes, I know it seems so fast, but I have a presentation tomorrow morning and I'll need you here first thing in order to get yourself prepared. Get here no later than 8 am for your wardrobe fitting. Caroline will have some clothes ready based on the measurements you provided on the application forms. You can dress casually if you like, since you'll be changing into our wardrobe anyway. Don't wear any make-up and keep your watch in your pocket. Try to avoid wearing anything with elastic - particularly underwear. Sometimes it can leave compression lines in your skin that don't synch up with the hemlines of the outfits. You'll have a pretty full day tomorrow so be sure to get plenty of rest tonight." The doctor collected the file folder and turned to exit the room.

Shannon sat up and got down off the exam table. She could feel the moistness between her legs as she pulled on her panties and fastened her skirt. Not wanting to keep the doctor waiting, she didn't bother putting on her bra, instead she slipped it into her jacket pocket and fastened the buttons on the blouse, then draped the jacket over her left arm and followed the doctor out of the room. He turned the manila folder over to Caroline, who smiled and waved cheerfully at Shannon as she left the office. Wardrobe? Shannon liked the idea of wearing expensive suits that she didn't have to pay for. "That wasn't so bad," she thought to herself, "this could be the best job I'll ever have!"

Shannon was on cloud nine as she walked back to her dorm room. She noticed the furtive glances of the young men who stole peeks at her breasts, her hardened nipples pressed against the loose material of her blouse, and for the first time in her life she felt truly sexy. She smiled at any boy who happened to make eye contact with her, and she giggled when more than one glanced away in embarrassment at having been caught. "I'm going to be a model!" she thought to herself, embracing the notion that the former flat-chested wallflower that had been ignored by the boys back in high school was going to be given fabulous outfits to wear, was going to be the epitome of all of those boys' fantasies.

It was late in the afternoon, just a little before her normal dinnertime, when she got back to her room but she was too excited to think about eating. She tried calling her best friend but she had already moved out of her dorm for the summer. Similar attempts to reach her other friends also proved fruitless, so she threw herself on her bed and rabbit-punched her pillows. "This is ridiculous. I need to release this energy," she thought. Changing out of her best dress suit, she slipped on a pair of black tights and a jogging bra, pulled some low-cut socks over her feet and stepped into her running shoes for a quick run around the campus.

The sun seemed brighter; the air seemed cleaner. All of her problems were going away and she felt terrific. A model! She couldn't believe it. She picked up her pace and gave a slight jump in the air. She punched her fists at the air. Her legs felt fresh and strong. Her heart raced as the sidewalk flowed under her feet, her hair bouncing with each step. She passed runners heading the other way. Before today, she would keep her eyes focused on the ground, afraid to make eye contact with the people coming at her, but now she kept her head up and smiled at each and every one of them. She was happy and she wanted people to know it.

When she returned to her dorm, she noticed that the student parking lot had emptied drastically since the morning. The students had wasted little time in moving on with their lives, and in four more days, at the completion of the graduation ceremony, Shannon would be moving on with hers. Her answering machine's message light was blinking frantically, but she ignored it and instead peeled off her running clothes. Turning the handles of the faucets, she waited for the hot water to start flowing and caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror. She straightened up and placed a hand on her hip, turning to the side, judging her profile, then turning around and looking over her shoulder at her backside. She had never really noticed her body before. She had always considered herself to be average-looking, if a bit on the slender side, but now she saw herself differently. Where before once stood a skinny little girl now stood a lithe young woman. She turned to the front, looking at the way her toned legs merged into her hips and tummy. She lifted her arms, watching them tug at the mounds of her breasts. She cupped her left breast in her hand and let her thumb rub her nipple, then ran her other hand across the lower part of her belly, tracing a line across her hips, imagining it to be a lover's touch. Her fingers found the tangled forest of her mound of Venus and she let a fingernail rasp against the opening of her snatch, tickling her slightly.

She remembered the doctor's exam and how she had become aroused as he had prodded her. It had seemed so routine and he had been so nonchalant about probing her, just a matter-of-fact process. Perfectly appropriate. But why had she been so stimulated by him? She didn't know, and she didn't care. Her finger pushed closer, and she imagined it to be Doctor Wellington's gloved thumb pressing deeper into her. She spread her legs a bit more and leaned back, resting her shoulders against the cool tiles of the shower stall, and watched herself in the mirror as she slipped first one, then another finger into her slit.

A fingernail found her clit and soon she was twitching as her fingers rubbed the small head. Her other hand cupped and fondled her breasts as the fingers buried in her snatch increased the tempo of their stroke to a frantic pace. She could feel the heat building in her loins, the warm glow of her impending orgasm and imagined that she was in the exam room, open and exposed to the doctor's touch. Her heart was beating rapidly and her breath was coming in short, quick gasps as waves of pleasure rippled from her sex. She looked at her reflection; the sight of her nude, her nipples hard and proud, a hand between her thighs, a sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead, chest, and hips, was intoxicating. Her stomach muscles twitched as she worked towards her climax, her legs struggling to maintain balance against the tiled wall.

Just then a door slammed down the hall, causing her to jump with surprise, interrupting her dreams and machinations. Even this late in the day, students were still packing their things and leaving the building for the summer. She noticed steam clouds drifting out of the shower tub as she started to come down from the heights of her arousal. "Oh, stop it!" she thought to herself. "There will be plenty of time for that later." She tested the water temperature and adjusted the knobs, then stepped into the water flow and lathered up. The water felt warm and she could feel her muscles relaxing slightly as her blood vessels adjusted to the heat. She lathered up her hair and let the soap cascade off her shoulders. She folded her arms across her chest, catching the water and forming a pool between her breasts, then releasing the water and letting it fall with a big splash on the bottom of the stall. She quickly soaped up her legs and torso, then finished with her arms and face. When she had rinsed the suds off of her body, she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, dabbling at the beads of water clinging to her skin, then wrapped the towel around her chest and entered her tiny dorm room.

Sitting on the chair at her desk, she pressed the answering machine's message playback button. Most of the calls were from her friends wishing her a good vacation, telling her about the deadline to drop off her hall key, or their fabulous vacation plans, a few were from boys she knew wishing her the best of luck for the summer, but one was from Caroline.

"Hi, Shannon. This is Caroline from Dr. Wellington's office. I just wanted you to know that I sent off your paperwork to the insurance company this afternoon and we should have your employment card back sometime tomorrow. We may not have it in time for the presentation tomorrow afternoon, but don't worry about it because you'll already be registered as an employee of the consultancy so there shouldn't be any problems if you happen to get hurt for some reason. Don't worry about a thing; you're going to love this job. I have so much fun when I do it, but I turned my ankle a couple of days ago doing something really stupid. Ugh, I don't want to talk about it. Well, maybe I'll tell you about it after the presentation," Caroline let out a giggle, "This is so great! I feel like you're my little sister. You're going to have so much fun. Listen, take my advice and get lots of sleep tonight and for tomorrow - I don't know if the doctor mentioned it or not - don't wear any underwear because sometimes the elastic can leave marks on your skin and ruin the presentation. Don't wear any makeup and just keep your hair straight, no gel or anything. I looked at your charts (I hope you don't mind) and you seem to be in great shape. I think you'll hold up really well, particularly since this will be your first time and the doctor usually goes a little easier on his models when they're just starting out. Oh, and don't wear socks either because the band can leave a ring around your ankles. Sometimes that matters, sometimes it doesn't. It depends on how the presentation is set up. I usually just wear a pair of slip-on sneakers with jeans and a t-shirt. Real casual stuff. We'll have your work clothes ready for fitting tomorrow morning. Ok? See you tomorrow!"

Caroline's enthusiasm wasn't lost on Shannon. Shannon was still trying to come down off of her emotional high and Caroline's message didn't make it any easier. Shannon looked out her dorm room window at the people making their way along the street in the growing darkness and thought about how quickly things had changed for her. For once she felt like things were going her way, that the world was her oyster. She chastised herself, "oh, don't be such a silly little girl. You sound like a giggly teenager." She opened up her mini-fridge and pulled out a cup of yogurt. She didn't like to miss a full meal, but she still didn't have much of an appetite. She was too nervous, too excited, and still a little too aroused to think about food.

She placed the empty yogurt container in the trash, washed the spoon and laid it in the dish dryer, then unraveled the towel from around her chest and used it to dry her hair. She walked across the room towards her bathroom, naked, and for the first time she didn't care if anyone saw her through the window or not. She plugged in the gun-shaped blow dryer and began to let the jet toss her hair. On a whim, she pointed the dryer at her chest, feeling the warm air sweep across her breasts, enjoying the feeling as the air tickled her nipples. She waved the dryer over her belly, giggling at the sensation, then tentatively aimed the barrel at her mound, letting the warm air brush against the thin slit of soft fur. A pleasurable gasp escaped her lips as the heat wafted across her body.

She couldn't hold the dryer there for too long or it would start to feel uncomfortable as the warm air began to burn her skin. She wondered if that was how it felt to be burned at the stake, like the Christian martyrs and the witches. She held the blow dryer just below her slit, pointing up like the flames from a bonfire, focusing it on one spot, and waited to see how long she could endure the burning pain. It wasn't long. "You're such a wimp," she said to no one in particular.

She set the dryer down and rubbed some moisturizer on her face. She still couldn't believe that she was going to be a model, that she would be posing in front of a live audience and demonstrating products. She picked up the blow dryer and held it sideways in front of her and looked at herself in the mirror. "This is the Model XT2000, the leader in blow dryer technology!" she exclaimed, studying herself in the mirror. "Well," she said disappointingly, "hopefully I won't have to do any speaking."

She unplugged the blow dryer and placed it back in its hook, then she brushed her teeth and rubbed lotion on her hands, flipping the light switch off with her elbow as she continued to work the hand lotion into her skin. Still nude, she decided not to put anything on before easing underneath the covers of her bed. If she was going to be working first thing in the morning, she didn't want to risk having lines on her skin from the night before. Then she thought about the possibility of the sheets leaving lines. What a conundrum! She decided that if she slept on top of the bed, then only half of her body would be touching the fabric and that would reduce the risk of sheet marks sufficiently.

She had never tried to sleep nude, at least not since her childhood, and lying on top of the bedcovers now made her feel like she was exposed. She lay there, feeling her heart beating softly, the night air cooling her skin, causing every nerve in her body to come alive with sensation. She thought about the day's events, about the interview, the examination, and Caroline's phone message. What did Caroline mean about Shannon being able to hold up well? And what a strange choice of words to use together. "Hold up well". It sounded like something that belonged in one of those horror movies, where the heroine is bound and tortured while the hero tries to rescue her. Shannon stretched her arms over her head "Oh yes, rescue me!" she cried out loud, then laughed at her joke, clasping her arms over her chest and rolling onto her side. "I'm going to be naked and open all night," she said aloud, "who is going to come and rescue me?" Giggling again, she rolled onto her back and stretched her arms out over her head, each wrist bound by imaginary straps to the corners of her bed. Likewise, she spread her legs wider, so that her ankles pointed towards the corners at the foot of her bed. "I'm going to stay like this all night, like a prisoner," she moaned dramatically, "like a prisoner of the Inquisition!"

She held herself there, stretched out on her bed, the shadows of the windowpanes painting bars across her naked torso. She lifted her head and looked at her body displayed so openly, the muscles of her stomach tightening from the exertion. God, she felt so sexy, so beautiful. She could only imagine what she would look like to her imagined tormentor and his evil henchmen. Would they have their way with her before torturing her? Or would they torture her first and then rape her? She smiled. It didn't matter. She tried to make herself relax but she was still too worked up. Her hand wandered across her chest, rolling and squeezing her nipples until they puckered up, firm and hard. Her fingers danced across the flat expanse of her tummy, drifting across her hips until they rested in the dark tangle of her bush. She brushed the back of her fingernail across the opening of her slit, feeling the nail's smooth texture against her flesh, then inserted her finger into her snatch, probing softly. She brought her knees up slightly and raised her hips, welcoming her touch.

"No! Don't do it like this," she thought to herself, "you are a prisoner of the Inquisition, and prisoners aren't supposed to enjoy their captivity." She laughed softly at her fantasy. "Well, its obvious I can't trust myself." Getting up from the bed, she pulled out four thigh-high stockings, tying one to each corner of the bed. Leaning forward, she tied her ankles to the legs of the bed, then lay back down to position herself in the middle of the mattress. Satisfied that she was more or less in the middle of the small bed, she reached up and tied the stockings on the headboard into loops. Pulling herself towards the headboard until she felt the tension of the stockings around her ankles, she inserted her hands into the loops of material over her head and twirled her wrists, wrapping the stockings around her wrists until they felt snug and she was certain that she wouldn't accidentally work herself loose during the night. Her binding done, she looked at herself again, at the shadows crisscrossing her body, her hips, her sex. Her nipples were still erect and she could feel the moistness collecting between her legs. "Perhaps," she thought to herself whimsically, "some kind sir will free me from my prison." Turning her head away from the window, she closed her eyes and drifted off to a restless sleep.

Shannon awoke with a start. It was still dark and her hands were tingling. The orange glow of the clock next to her showed that only an hour had passed since she had bound herself to the bed, spread-eagled. She tugged at the bonds holding her wrists to the bedposts, turning her hands to unwind the looped stockings. Groggily, she pulled herself up and bent down to the knotted stockings holding her legs apart. She tugged at the material with her numbed fingers until her ankles were freed. She flexed her hands, letting the blood circulate back into them. She felt the familiar pressure on her bladder and got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. The sudden light hurt her eyes, causing her to blink reflexively. As she emptied herself, she looked at her wrists. If the material was tight enough to cut off her circulation, then perhaps it was tight enough to leave seams in her skin. She rotated her wrists, looking at them front and back, and was relieved to see only one noticeable indentation. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," she scolded herself, "it would be just like me to throw away a great assignment for one silly fantasy." Finished with her toilet business, she wiped herself and flushed the commode, then turned off the light and collapsed back into the bed.

The next morning, Shannon left for the office a bit early, dressed in jeans, a simple t-shirt, and shoes. Per Caroline's advice, she wasn't wearing a bra, nor panties, nor socks. Shannon had never let herself go out in public without underwear and it felt different to be walking about the town that way, without the usual binding of the elastic across her shoulders, chest, and hips. She felt comfortable, but uncomfortable at the same time, as if she were walking around naked in public. She wondered if the morning sun was illuminating the silhouette of her torso through the thin cotton shirt, but there were few people out that early in the morning so she tried not to be too concerned about it.

Entering the office lobby, she was greeted by Caroline who was dressed in a tight-fitting business skirt and light blouse. Caroline gave her a smile and said, "Annette and Doctor Wellington are going straight to the auditorium this morning to get the stage set up, so it will just be you and I for the moment. I've got your wardrobe in the back room. C'mon, let's get you dressed!"

The two girls walked past the receptionist desk and down the short hall to an unmarked door. Caroline turned the handle and, as she entered the room, flipped the light switch. It was a small room, not much bigger than the examination room Shannon had been in the previous day, and various odds and ends were pushed up against the wall. Along the far wall was a clothing rack, containing a hodge-podge of vests, jackets, dresses, pants, and such, and each article was covered with a thin plastic bag. "Today's presentation will focus on the medieval period, so let's see if we can find you something appropriate," Caroline said, thumbing through the rack of clothing and pulling out a simple white cotton garment, "Ah, here's a night shirt that should fit you. Go ahead and try this on and I'll see if I can find a vest and a skirt to go with it."

Shannon looked for a door to a dressing room and, not seeing one, quickly slipped off her shoes and pulled off her jeans, draping them over the top of a cardboard box nearby, then lifted off her t-shirt and placed it over the jeans. As she stood naked in the room, she noticed her reflection in the three-sided mirror next to the rack, and became aware of her nudity and how odd it felt to be naked while Caroline was fully clothed. She found herself gazing at the curves of Caroline's body, at the way the line of muscle in Caroline's thighs accentuated the curve of her hips and ass. Caroline was a little taller than Shannon and bore slightly larger proportions, with fuller breasts and wider hips, a near-perfect match to the sketches of fertility goddesses Shannon had studied in class. It brought back memories of her days in high school when, after gym class, the girls were forced to take showers before returning to class and Shannon had compared her body to those of the more developed girls. She had endured a terrible teasing by some of them.

Caroline noticed Shannon's gaze and moved next to her. "Its ok. You look wonderful," she cooed, placing her hand on the naked girl's shoulder and turning her a bit, "you should be proud." Shannon smiled at the compliment and took one last look, then continued fumbling with the costume. As she slipped on the nightshirt, Caroline produced two more pieces of clothing: a simple green vest and a matching skirt. The vest was stiff, more like a corset, and fit around her midsection so that the nightshirt was all that covered Shannon's arms and chest. The corset pulled the shirt tight across Shannon's breasts, the material feeling rough against her unprotected nipples. The skirt wrapped around her waist and fell to the middle of her shins, with the nightshirt acting as a petticoat. Shannon turned and faced the three-sided mirror next to the rack and Caroline stood beside her, adjusting the hem of the shirt and dress. "Well," Shannon said disappointingly, "its not Donna Karan."

"Oh, don't sound so sad," Caroline remarked, "you'll only be wearing it for a short time today. Just be glad you didn't have to dress as a Roman slave like I did last week! I felt absolutely exposed!" Caroline fumbled in the rack and pulled out a dress, holding it up to her chest so that Shannon could visualize it properly. The dress' neckline was deeply cut, so that it fell just below Caroline's bust line, exposing her breasts. Gold trim crisscrossed the hem and wrapped around the waist, and there were no sleeves. The hemline for the skirt was high on her legs. Shannon laughed at the ridiculous outfit. "Oh, my God! You didn't really have to wear that, did you? Tell me you wore a top!" Shannon exclaimed. Caroline laughed, "A top? Oh, no! If I had, then it would have affected the performance and Dr. Wellington would've had my hide! Its not so bad, really, and afterwards you'll realize that there's nothing to be ashamed of. After you've done a few of these, you'll get used to it."

Shannon began to feel a little alarmed. "There's nudity involved? Nothing was mentioned to me about that!"

"Oh, don't worry about it. They may have something different planned for you. And besides, it was kind of fun being up there in the spotlight, letting a bunch of strangers look, but, " Caroline said, waving a finger, " don't touch!" Caroline giggled and continued fumbling with Shannon's dress.

Shannon looked again at herself in the mirror and liked the way the corset made her breasts more pronounced. "I think you make a wonderful peasant girl," Caroline chimed, "you can leave your things here. I'll lock the office when I take you up to the auditorium so your stuff will be safe." Caroline glanced at her watch. "Oh! We're going to be late! Hurry up, let's go!"

"What about shoes?" Shannon asked.

"Don't worry about shoes. You won't need them. C'mon!"

The girls climbed into Caroline's car and they drove through the wakening city to the performing arts auditorium. Shannon noticed that there were quite a few cars in the parking lot, a number of them with out of state license plates. Several others were obviously from a rental car fleet. Caroline pulled around to the side of the building where Annette was waiting and Shannon climbed out of the car. "Good morning!" Annette beamed, "I'm glad you made it! You're just in time. We have an exceptionally large audience this morning, so please don't be scared. I'm a nervous wreck and I hope it doesn't rub off on you."

Annette pushed Shannon through the stage door and waved Caroline off. "We've gotten everything set up and the doctor has already started his presentation. I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to rehearse yesterday but we had a number of other things to focus on so we took a chance that you would be able to handle the pressure of the opening of your first show. How do you feel? Did you get a good night's sleep like I told you to?" Annette looked at Shannon, who nodded her head noncommittally. "Ok, now, when the doctor calls your name, all you need to do is walk across the stage and stand next to him. Then, simply follow his lead and he'll take over from there."

Just then, they both heard the doctor say, "Gentlemen, may I present today's participant."

"That's you, dear," Annette said, pushing Shannon towards the stage curtain, "break a leg!"

Shannon parted the curtains and walked across the front of the stage. Bright lights blinded her, but she knew better than to raise her hands. She reminded herself that she was supposed to be a professional! She walked confidently across the stage, concentrating on keeping a good posture, her gaze never leaving the doctor until she stood next to him, her bare feet leaving spotted prints on the dusty stage floor.

Taking Shannon's elbow, the doctor addressed the audience. "The Inquisition was one of the most significant events of the early 13 ^th century, and can be considered a direct result of the opening of trade routes to the eastern kingdoms and the flow of ideas that accompanied the flood of goods through Italy and Spain and into France and Germany shortly after the Crusades. Some of these ideas took hold amongst the fertile grounds of the grass-roots pagan religions and soon posed a threat to the Catholic Church as it competed for the spirituality of the people, as well as the wealth and power of the local leaders. As the strength of the Church grew and the role of the local lords and kings as communal leaders decreased, the Church's wealth and influence brought it into the political arena, and soon it controlled the laws of the land, including the ability to arrest heretics for crimes against the canons of the Church and to conduct interrogations to determine suitable punishments."

"Typically, an interrogation began with the simple arrest of the suspected heretic and the subject would be brought before the inquisitor for questioning. If the subject resisted, or if the statements given weren't trustworthy, then the second level of the interrogation would begin: the threatening of the subject with torture. The key tool at this stage was the subject's imagination, and imagined pain can be more coercive than actual pain. If the subject still didn't cooperate, then he or she would be elevated to the third level of the interrogation - being shown the actual instruments to be used against them."

With that, the doctor turned as stage lights snapped on and illuminated several large pieces of equipment behind them. Shannon turned and was shocked at what she saw. She recognized several of the artifacts from book illustrations about castle dungeons. On the far left of the stage was an upright stock designed to force its captive to remain standing. On the far right were a pair of heavy wooden crosses, upright and turned at a slight angle towards each other. In the center of the stage were two instruments of torture; a heavy wooden bench with stout legs and a single drum, with ropes lying loosely at the foot of the bench and dangling from the drum, and a giant wheel, similar to a wagon wheel but larger and with a thicker rim that had leather bonds attached to it.

Waving his arm to each piece, like the ringmaster in a circus, the doctor addressed the audience. "Stocks, for holding prisoners, were also used to secure victims for torture, but the preferred tool for the use of non-deadly force was the rack. There was no single design, but rather variations on the theme. This particular model is a composite of designs that were used in Europe over a period of 200 years. The Romans are credited with the initial development of a rack-like device and its design evolved as the level of technology improved. Variations exist even today, but it is the Inquisition with which it is more closely associated. Some models used wooden slats or rollers instead of a single wooden bench, some used ropes instead of rollers, others featured two drums at each end, but they all had the same intent - to bring a prisoner beyond their pain threshold but short of causing death. If a prisoner were to be executed, they would typically be broken on the wheel or crucified. Fortunately for Shannon here, we won't be using those last two methods today." A low rumble of laughter emanated from the audience. "Last week we saw what the stocks could do, so today we'll be demonstrating the rack."

Shannon whirled around and looked at the doctor, realizing what was about to happen. "No!" she shrieked, trying to pull away. "Calm down, now, easy", the doctor whispered, "I won't hurt you. All you need to do is follow my lead and go along with it. Its called 'acting'."

Frightened, with her heart beating furiously in her chest, Shannon remained in place on the stage. The doctor moved behind her and began fumbling with the drawstring of her skirt. Still recovering from the initial shock, she held her position and stared into the blinding light, not certain what to do as her skirt fell to the floor. Reflexively, she stepped out of it as the doctor worked on the laces holding the vest around her torso, which soon joined the skirt on the floor. Quickly, the doctor tugged at the knot holding the neck hole of the nightshirt together and began lifting the bottom of the long shirt over Shannon's waist. She pushed down with her hands, stopping the shirt from being raised higher than her hips. She had never taken her clothes off in public and was reluctant to start now.

"Remember, this is part of the show," the doctor growled in her ear. Shannon paused a moment, weighing her options. She thought about Caroline's words, that it only seemed bad in the beginning. Closing her eyes, she relaxed her arms and allowed the doctor to lift the dress up and add it to the pile of clothes at her feet. Shannon was now completely nude, holding her left arm across her chest and the other across her hips to protect her modesty. Posing nude in front of strangers was certainly not something she wanted to do. She knew she wouldn't be able to remain like that for long, but she was determined not to surrender her body to the audience so soon.

The doctor turned Shannon around so that her back was to the crowd, giving the unseen eyes a clear view of her well-toned legs and lithe body. Sensing the admiration of the audience, he tugged at Shannon's bent elbow, guiding her towards the rack as she stumbled clumsily across the dark stage, her straight brown hair flowing behind her. The doctor seated her on the machine with her feet pointed towards the end of the bench and slipped knotted loops of thick rope around her ankles, spreading her legs so that they were held the full width of the bench. He then pushed her back, indicating that she should lie down. Shannon hesitated a moment, then lay back. She suspected what he intended to do to her, but she wasn't sure how far he'd go. Was he sincere when he said he wouldn't hurt her? She didn't know, but at the same time she knew she didn't want to quit. This was her Inquisition fantasy come true, only there was nobody here to rescue her.

She remembered Caroline's words, that she should hold up well; or rather, that she should hold up well to whatever the doctor had in store for her. She remembered her fantasy from the previous night, of being held captive and made to confess. The thought of it excited her, but that was a fantasy, it wasn't real, and certainly wasn't something she had wanted to be revealed to a group of strangers. She clung to the fantasy; if it wasn't real, then maybe she wouldn't be afraid of him, or of the experience. She vowed to resist him as best she could, for as long as she could. She would defeat him and her fears.

When she was fully reclined, he lifted her by her armpits and pulled her up towards the drum to take the slack out of the ropes that held her feet. He then grasped a length of looped rope from the drum over her head and moved to slip it over her right wrist. She reluctantly lifted her hand, momentarily giving the audience a brief glimpse of her mound. She twitched slightly as the rope brushed against her bare hip and came to rest against the thin fur covering her sex. The doctor then grabbed the other length of looped rope from the drum and slipped it over Shannon's other hand, pulling at the knot until it was securely fastened around her left wrist. He checked the knotted loop around her right wrist and moved towards the drum. Shannon lay on the rack, nude, bound to the evil device, afraid of what the doctor might do to her yet also curious to discover if she had the strength to see it through to the end.

The doctor continued his presentation. "Once more the prisoner would be put to the question and be given a chance to confess or surrender whatever knowledge the officials wanted. If the heretic were to confess, a scribe would dutifully record her statements and only after her statement was complete would she be released from the machine. Shannon, do you have anything to confess?" Shannon gave a slight shake of her head, trying to play along with doctor's act. "Very well then. We'll progress to the next stage of the interrogation."

Shannon shuddered nervously as the doctor began to spin the windlass of the machine, the spool taking in the rope binding Shannon's wrists. She felt the rope tugging at her right wrist, the one covering her mound, first since it was the one furthest from the spool. She tried to hold her hand over her sex as long as she could, but she knew it was only a matter of time before her snatch was revealed to the audience. Choking back a low sob, she allowed her hand to be lifted away from her hips and drawn across her torso. She heard the sounds of people shifting in their seats as the rope was wound over the spool, and she could feel their gaze on her private region, its pale skin bared for all to see. The drum rotated, the rope continuing to be drawn up as she held her left arm across her chest, hiding her nipples that had already begun to harden with anticipation. Soon the rope holding her left wrist felt the tug of the machine and her arms were pulled over her head, revealing the round curves of her breasts to the crowd.

She was now stretched on the rack, bound nude and exposed to the audience who sat in the darkened auditorium, the only sound being the rasping of the doctor's breath as he spun the windlass. She could sense the titillation of the crowd as they studied her body on display before them, the stage lighting giving her skin a warm glow and illuminating the tuft of hair between her legs. The lines of muscle in her thighs stood out under the light as she flexed her legs nervously. Her lean tummy curled slightly as she shifted on the rack. Her arms, tugged up over her head, pulled at her breasts, turning the areolas into soft brown ovals as the stalks of her nipples rose to greet the cool air of the stage. She could feel her heart beating strongly inside her; could hear her breath as it passed across her parted lips. The bright light was directly overhead and she turned her head to the side, away from the crowd, trying to shield her eyes with the upper part of her right arm.

The doctor secured the windlass and moved behind the rack, then lifted a tray upon which lay various tools and instruments and strode to the front of the stage. Tilting the tray, the doctor presented the instruments to the audience. "Clamps for crushing the victim's most sensitive tissues; wire for tying up a man's testicles; various pins and needles for puncturing skin, and," the doctor said, lifting a round object into the air so that the crowd could get a better view, "the pear, used for extending vaginal and anal openings." The doctor turned a screw and the object split into thirds, like a piece of fruit as its cored, the ends revealing sharp claws as a threaded bolt running through the center of the evil instrument spread the pieces wider. "The talons on this model were designed for ripping and tearing the victim's inner tissues, and could be very effective at extracting confessions, as you'll see in a moment." Shannon shivered at the sound of his speech. Surely he wouldn't use such an evil device on her. She had cooperated with him, had followed his instructions. Perhaps it was just simple theatrics. She tried to not think about it, about what such a thing could do to a human being. She quivered slightly, bound naked and helpless, her thighs widely parted and vulnerable to his touch, her breasts exposed and inviting.

The doctor set the tray down behind the rack, out of Shannon's visual range, and grasped the handle of the windlass. Slowly, deliberately, he turned the wheel, drawing the rope across the drum. Shannon could feel the pull on her arms and inhaled deeply, waiting for the stretching of her body. She imagined herself at the hands of the unseen torturer of her fantasy, a damsel held captive in an evil castle, awaiting her handsome prince. A clasp on the windlass ticked off the notches as the toothed gear rotated on the drum. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. The pull was increasing steadily, unrelenting, tugging at her arms, lifting her wrists up off the bench. Even as she felt the machine drawing her out, she could feel the sweat beginning to form on her brow and below her breasts, and her pulse began to quicken as she anticipated what was about to happen. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. She could feel the pressure on her arms, the ropes tightening on her wrists, prevented from moving farther by the wide part of her hands. Tick. Tick. Her whole body was beginning to feel the pressure now and she squirmed on the bench as the pull increased on her nude body. Her nipples rose and fell with her breathing as she readied herself for punishment about to be inflicted on her. Tick. Tick. She could feel the sweat beading on her brow and she knew her whole body was starting to glisten from the force exerted upon her. She felt the warmth beginning to build in her breasts and between her thighs as her body betrayed her fantasy. Tick. She breathed deeply and let the air escape slowly, feeling her ribs starting to push against the taut skin of her torso. Tick. Her hands were beginning to tingle. Pulled up that way, she wondered if they were turning purple from the lack of circulation. Her breathing quickened, her heart pounded in her chest. Tick. She breathed heavily in her distress as the doctor worked the mechanism. He wanted Shannon to cry out, wanted her to surrender. All she had to do was cry out, to make a confession, and he would stop.

Shannon could feel the rope tightening around her wrists. She opened her eyes to look at the doctor, a quick glance to see what he was doing. Tick. She closed her eyes, an image burned into her mind's eye; him, both hands on the windlass, pushing inexorably against her body's resistance. She could smell the sweat forming on her arms and the moistness beginning to build in her loins. Tick. Panting heavily, she fought back the fear that threatened to consume her. Her shoulders were being lifted from the bench, joining the steady march of her body towards the drum. She winced as the first tingles of pain trickled down her arms. Tick. Her back, slick with perspiration, loosened its grip on the dark wood of the bench. She buried her mouth against her arm, her breath hot and fast with pain. Tick. Her hands were really tingling now, growing numb from the grip of the ropes around her wrists. She gasped and squirmed as her back started to lift away from the bench. Tick. She could feel the tension in her lower spine, could feel the vertebra straining against the pull of the rack as her torso was pulled into the dark air of the auditorium. Tick. She turned her head from side to side, the pain building as her pale body was lifted from the bench and she was completely suspended above the rack, her feet prevented from moving by the thick ropes around her ankles. Her breath came in quick, rapid gasps as she fought to control the pain welling up inside of her. Her chest heaved, her nipples rising and falling with each hard-fought breath as she hung above the stage, the spotlight illuminating her tortured muscles. Sweat glistened along the full length of her body and matted her hair and she could feel the labor of her lungs as she gasped for air.

Tick. The doctor had cruelly taken her one more notch, had pushed her to her limits, tested her. She inhaled deeply, agonized, trying to absorb the pain, but it was too much and a cry escaped from somewhere deep in her throat. She'd had enough. Her threshold had been reached. The doctor released the tension of the windlass slowly, gently easing the body of the crying girl back down onto the bench, but kept enough pressure on her tortured limbs such that she couldn't move. Locking the windlass, the doctor once more strode to the front of the stage, leaving the panting, sweating girl bound to the rack.

"Often, a subject would pass out during the questioning and would need to be revived. The usual method was to rub nettles against the victim's skin, causing a terrible itching. Another method was to douse them with ice cold water." With that, he suddenly produced a pail from a darkened corner of the stage and tossed its contents towards Shannon's bound body. She watched with horror and fascination as the water arced through the air like a crystalline dragon, its full contents landing with a solid smack against her skin. She opened her mouth and inhaled deeply from the shock of it, gasping and sputtering as the water mixed with her sweat, cooling her body. She shook her head, trying to clear the liquid from her eyes. As the harsh coldness subsided and her rapidly-beating heart slowed, she could feel her muscles relaxing.

The doctor paused, letting Shannon recover from the ordeal of the stretching, then picked up the tray of terrible instruments.

"Once the inquisitors were satisfied that a particular torture had reached its maximum effectiveness, new methods were applied," the doctor announced to the crowd, "and the standard procedure was to focus on the generation of localized pain." Selecting two small C-shaped instruments from the tray, the doctor held them up to the spotlight, "clamps, for crushing a woman's nipples."

Shannon watched as the doctor walked towards her, holding the two cruel pieces of metal in his hands. The cold water had stimulated her nipples; they were already hard and proud as the doctor took his place next to her stretched, bound body. She squirmed as the doctor stroked her breasts seductively. Stimulating her breasts wasn't necessary for this torture since the nubs were already erect and available, but the doctor's manipulation of her breasts was causing her nipples to ache with the pain of sexual excitement. She could feel his gentle touch, a lover's touch, and her body responded involuntarily, becoming aroused even as she lay nude on the rack. She could feel the warmth returning to her breasts, her chest glowing with her passion. The sinewy muscles of her legs and taut torso twisted under her pale, soft skin as the doctor continued stroking her. She could feel the moistness collecting between her legs even as she tried to resist him. He knew where to touch her, where to stroke her skin and stimulate the response he wanted. He traced circles around her breast, centering on each nipple, then down her belly, stroking the width of her hips just below her bellybutton, across her pelvic bone, then sliding his palms along her flanks and kneading the skin like a masseuse, stopping at the top of her thin line of soft fur, pushing her blood towards her mound. His fingers raked across her ribs and her tummy, leaving faint lines from the pressure, then his fingers danced lightly across her arms and shoulders, then continued down towards her hips. She shuddered at his tickling, her gleaming skin trembling at his touch, the fire beginning to burn in her sex. She lifted her head to encourage his touch, but she was bound tightly to the rack, stretched across its frame, and such movement was difficult. Helpless, she lay her head back and closed her eyes, welcoming the feeling of his hands upon her skin. Her breasts ached with pleasure and she could feel the warmth building in her loins.

Suddenly she felt the cold chill of the metal clamps on her chest. Lifting her head, she watched as the doctor slowly released the spring of a clamp, its jaws closing against the pert nipple of her left breast. She gasped at the pressure as the metal gripped her sensitive nub, crushing the skin. The doctor lifted the second clamp to her right breast, and she breathed quickly, anticipating the pain as that nub was also crushed by the unforgiving metal. She stared at her own body for a moment, at the silver clamps adorning her perked nipples, then, fatigued, lowered her head to the bench, its wood stained dark with sweat and water.

She breathed in the air, absorbing the pain, the clamps on her breasts rising as her lungs filled with air. Her ribs were stretched tightly against her skin, her lean belly pulled flat by the exertion of the rack. Her pubic mound rose towards the light that glistened in her thin line of fur, her vaginal juices mixing with the sweat and water that streamed from her body. She knew her ordeal was not yet over, and she swore she would see it through to the end.

"And now gentlemen, the pear."

Shannon was startled by his words. She began to pull at the bonds around her wrists and ankles, trying to free her arms, to close her legs. The doctor positioned himself over her crotch, lowering the oblong metal object between her parted thighs. She closed her eyes, knowing that she would be unable to see it enter her canal, even if she lifted her head. Terror began to fill her thoughts as she remembered how the device had split open to reveal its jagged talons. She felt the pear's cold tip pressing against her vaginal opening and she shuddered, waiting for its intrusion. The doctor rubbed the blunt end of the pear along her swollen lips, letting her anticipate its entry into her body, then slid it slowly into her tunnel. She moaned as it entered her, its metal rubbing against the moist pink tissue. Even with her natural lubricants flowing, it still hurt as the doctor pressed it farther up the orifice. Her vaginal muscles squeezed against the unyielding object as it passed deeper and deeper, and she wondered how far it would go. She felt the pressure deep inside her as it reached its limit, pressed up against the pink bulb of her cervix.

"Gentlemen, we are now ready to begin the final chapter of today's demonstration," the doctor said solemnly.

The doctor reached down and began turning the screw and she could feel the leaves of the pear slowly spreading wider. She pulled at the bonds holding her wrists and ankles as she tried to move her hips, trying to accommodate the increasing size of the device. She could feel it stretching her tissue, pushing against the insides of her pelvis. She moaned as it kept expanding inside her. Opening her mouth she began a low moan, breathing hard, fresh sweat streaming from her body as the pear split open, entrenching itself within her helpless body, until finally the doctor stopped turning the screw. He knew her limits, how far he could go with her. He had determined that yesterday.

She lay there, stretched taut, open, vulnerable, under the bright light of the darkened stage, sweat streaming from her body, matting her hair, mixing with the juices of her loins. Yes, the doctor had worked her body like a musician works a finely tuned piano. He had brought her pain, and he had brought her pleasure, and he had brought her pain again.

He reached between her thighs and pressed a switch at the base of the pear.

The metallic device immediately began vibrating, a low, gentle hum that seemed to travel across the entire length of her body. She shuddered. Every nerve in her body now focused on the buzzing object buried deep within her sex. Waves of pleasure coursed through her and she inhaled deep and strong, arching her back as best she could, trying to spread her thighs, briny water racing between the furrow of her breasts, breasts that were capped by horrible silver clamps. Her mind became cloudy as the waves of pleasure consumed her body, the fire between her thighs burning with the heat of passion. The doctor, the audience, the punishment of the rack all faded from her mind. All that existed was her and the object that gave her so much pleasure in her deepest regions. Her stomach contracted as she moved her hips rhythmically, working towards her climax, the heat building higher and higher as she gulped the cool air desperately, hungrily, a roaring bonfire of lust exploding between her legs, exploding like a supernova, consuming her entire universe. "Oh, God…" she moaned, then exhaled slowly, the air passing through parted lips as she was elevated to a level of pleasure she had not thought possible. Until now.

Shannon shuddered with her orgasm, her body rocking with pleasure, the beads of sweat and water trickling from her body as she tugged at the ropes binding her, the cords of her muscles twisting under her warm skin as she surrendered to the object buried in her loins. S lowly the thrusting of her hips began to subside and a warm peaceful feeling replaced the ache of her passion. She sighed, her bare breasts heaving as the warmth infused her entire body, spreading from the glorious wetness between her thighs. Basking in the glow of her womanhood, she hardly realized that the buzzing had stopped as she settled onto the bench, breathing deeply, warmly. Her heart was slowing, returning to its usual steady beat and a feeling of utter contentment came over her as her body relaxed.

"You look absolutely radiant."

Shannon blinked her eyes open. A woman's voice, familiar, but the face was blurry. Who was it? Shannon tried to focus on the image, straining against the bright light and the salty liquid that had seeped into her eyes. A halo of blonde hair above her. An angel. Fingers gently caressed her forehead, brushing her hair back, wiping the sweat and water from her face lovingly. A woman's touch. Shannon tried to speak, but her throat was dry. Her voice cracked "Caroline?"

"Hey, sweetie." Fingers continued to stroke Shannon's hair, comforting her. "You were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic."

Shannon opened her mouth to speak, but Caroline tenderly pressed her fingertips to Shannon's nose and mouth, "Shhhh. Don't try to speak yet. Give yourself a moment. There's no rush. You're so beautiful right now; so precious." Shannon smiled and relaxed, resting comfortably on the dampened wood of the bench, shivering with pleasure. Caroline loosened the ropes on Shannon's wrists so that blood could circulate back into her hands, but she didn't completely remove them. She wanted Shannon to remain affixed to the machine a bit longer.

Shannon's mind was beginning to clear and she looked around. The doctor and the audience were gone. It was just the two women, one bound nude, helpless, adorned by instruments of pain, the other clothed and free. Caroline leaned over the helpless girl's chest. "Shannon, dearest, I'm going to remove one of the clamps now, ok?" Caroline looked at Shannon, waiting for a sign of affirmation, and said "I should warn you, it hurts just as much coming off as it does going on." Shannon steadied herself and took a deep breath, waiting for the pain to come, steeling her mind against the unwanted sensation. As Caroline squeezed the springs on the clamp, the cruel jaws parted and drew back from the pressed skin. Shannon winced, pursing her lips in pain as the blood returned to the pinched nub, and cried silently as Caroline set the loosened clamp on a corner of the bench. Caroline massaged Shannon's wounded nipple, softly rubbing the skin around it, soothing the burning tissue. It felt good. "Are you ready for the other one, now?" Caroline whispered. Shannon nodded her head quickly, steadying herself for the pain. Caroline squeezed the clamp open and lifted it from Shannon's nipple as a small cry of anguish escaped from Shannon's mouth. Shannon jerked at the ropes around her wrists and ankles. "There, there, sweetie. Its almost over," Caroline said softly as she began rubbing both of Shannon's nipples, caressing them gently, using her palms to massage the mounds of Shannon's upturned breasts. Shannon squirmed on the rack, feeling the tingles of searing pain in her tits as the circulation returned to the injured skin, even as her natural endorphins tried to mask the agony of her body's abuse.

Caroline moved down to Shannon's waist and placed a hand over the bound girl's sex, petting it gently, alerting Shannon as to what was going to happen next. Shannon lifted her head and remembered the toothed ends of the pear, imagining how it would rip apart her tissue and she could feel the fear welling up inside her again. Caroline mumbled to herself, "Lefty loosey, righty tighty." Shannon could feel the pear shrink inside her tunnel, retracting upon itself as Caroline turned the screw. "No!" Shannon thought to herself, "don't do it!"

When the screw would turn no further, Caroline began withdrawing the device from Shannon's nude body. Shannon tried to yell "No!" but all she could muster was a hoarse whisper, and she swallowed, hard, trying to find enough moisture to speak, to scream. Jerking hard at the ropes around her wrists and ankles, fighting the grip of the rack, Shannon shook her head violently, croaking her protests from an impossibly dry throat. Shannon would do anything, anything at all, to keep from having her insides ripped apart. Caroline ignored her pleas and proceeded to remove the object. Caroline knew Shannon would fight her, hard, and had left her tied to the bench for that reason. Shannon could feel the pear sliding out of her and she could imagine what it was doing to her sex, to her womanhood. Still bound to the rack, unable to speak, too weak to resist, she could do nothing but gasp and tremble with fear. Finally she felt the device part from her body and she wondered how much blood was mixing with her juices in her genitals, her sweat on her legs, and the water on the table. Strangely, she felt no pain, but she knew that in extreme cases of trauma a nerve ending could be over stimulated and render the injured tissue numb. Shannon trembled violently with fear at the thought of the damage to her loins.

Caroline held up the evil device, the one that had given Shannon so much pleasure and caused so much fear, so that Shannon could see it clearly. Surprisingly, there was no trace of blood; nothing as traumatic as she had imagined. Shannon looked at Caroline, utterly confused, but still no words could come from her throat, so Shannon mouthed "What?" Caroline looked back at the helpless girl and laughed. "You poor thing. The doctor played a trick on you; a terrible, wonderful trick." Shannon realized what had happened. He had switched the instruments! She smiled and laughed weakly at her gullibility.

Caroline moved to the foot of the rack and freed Shannon's legs, then moved up to the drum and finally released her wrists from the ropes that had abraded her skin. Though freed of the grip of the rack, Shannon was too exhausted to move and lay in the position she had been forced to assume during the presentation. Caroline sat on the bench beside her and stroked Shannon's forehead, wiping the fresh beads of perspiration from her skin as she lay on the rack.

Shannon was completely spent. Every joint in her body ached and her muscles felt like rubber. Her body was limp with exhaustion, suffering the dullness of extreme fatigue. Shannon, groggily, lowered her arms and tried to sit up. Caroline saw her struggling and wrapped one arm behind the poor girl, helping her lean forward, and placed the other across her shoulders to steady her. Caroline tenderly stroked Shannon's face and the nude girl began to cry softly; from pain or from love, Caroline couldn't tell. Caroline squeezed Shannon's shoulder and drew her closer, consoling her, cradling her head as the younger girl wept in Caroline's comforting embrace. "There, there, sweetie, its alright, everything's ok," she whispered. Shannon accepted Caroline's hug, lifting her arms to grasp Caroline even as sobs choked in her throat. "That's alright, let it out, its all over now." Shannon released herself completely, letting her emotions flood out of her unabashedly. She had been taken to the heights of pain, of pleasure, of ecstasy, and now, of love.

As Shannon's cries began to subside Caroline separated herself from the nude girl and slid off the bench. Reaching underneath the machine, she lifted a soft red blanket and wrapped it around the wet skin of Shannon's shoulders and handed her a bottle of water. The water tasted sweet and soothing, its cool sensation splashing across Shannon's tongue as the clear liquid emptied from the bottle. Exhaling with a satisfied sigh, Shannon tried to speak. "Where… where is everybody?" Her voice was more breath than words.

Caroline laughed. "They're all gone. The doctor excused the audience just after he switched on the vibrating pear. He wanted your first forced orgasm to be a private experience. He felt he owed you that much. He wanted me to be here for you because he was afraid you might develop feelings for him afterwards and that would've complicated things for the next presentation. So he and Annette left as soon as the audience had cleared out. And here I am."

Shannon, now becoming aware of her nakedness and where she was, felt a tinge of embarrassment at what she had allowed to be done to her. She had submitted herself to a strange man's touch, given him permission to bind her, to explore her body, to reveal her fantasies, and he had done it in front of complete strangers. And she had enjoyed it. "How much? How much did you see?" she asked furtively.

"Oh, not much. He stationed me in the lobby to see the guests away. Besides, it was nothing new to me. You aren't the first. I've been through it, too, you know. Only I had to deal with Annette's straightforward clinical approach to employee health care - clean me up, dress me, send me on my way. I didn't really have someone there for me afterwards."

Shannon looked at her and realized the generous gift that Caroline had given her.

"You can thank me later," Caroline said jokingly. "C'mon, let's get you home."