The Adventures Of Pauline

It wasn't the dream job she had hoped to find, but in this post WW2 world, with all the men returning home, there isn't much to choose from for a 21 year old literature graduate. She can just see the stonework of the old mansion through the unkempt shrubs and trees lining the graveled path. She takes a deep breath and stiffens her resolve as she pushes the heavy iron gate open enough to slip through and start the walk up the drive. It's been a long journey, first the train, then a taxi, and the cheap cardboard suitcase clutched in her right hand seems to be getting heavier and heavier.

She is wearing what she thought would be appropriate for a "Young lady to assist an eminent professor in the study of anthropology" which is what the newspaper advertisement said, so her tweed skirt and jacket, button up blouse and flat heels seem sensible. She is a bit concerned that the new, and hard to obtain, silk stockings may not survive the ever encroaching shrubbery though.

Finally she makes it to the door. She has a reasonable expectation of just who the professor is, having asked around the college community. Tall, mid fifties, distinguished looking and oh so so eccentric. Given to going off into tangents in the classroom, known to have a temper, and there were many a suggestion of young female students getting a little more attention than they really wanted. She sighs, as she climbs the four stone steps to the front door, and then holds her head high as she knocks on the heavy oak door.

A few moments pass, a dog barks, but it seems to come from way back in the house. She hears footfalls, and a female voice saying "wait a moment, just coming" then the snick of a lock being drawn, and the door opens. A diminutive but very pretty Eurasian women of indeterminate age, but probably in her forties, smiles up at her "You must be Pauline, come in dear and I'll fetch the professor" She ushers her in, easing the suitcase from her aching fingers, and calling "Ederick, we have a guest" in a surprisingly loud voice for such a small woman.

A sandy haired man enters from what appears to be a kitchen door, a chocolate brown large dog of very mixed breeding accompanies him. His stoop and pallor makes the man appear old, but as he takes the suitcase, she can see that he is only in his thirties. It's a phenomenon she has witnessed before amongst those who have returned from the front. He doesn't make eye contact with her, just turns and takes the case upstairs, and the little woman tut tuts at his rudeness.

She ushers Pauline into a small sitting room, and directs her to sit in on a small leather sofa. "the professor will be down shortly my dear, I'll fetch you a nice cup of tea, you must be weary after such a journey" and she leaves, the sitting room door closing with a soft click She looks around, the room is crowded to the point of cluttered, with odd pieces of furniture, a wooden stool there, a chair that appears to be made of sticks, a carved chest in a corner, and more. It seems to have been furnished by someone well travelled, who has bought back a piece from every destination. And then the clutter, artifacts adorn the walls, are stuffed into cabinets, or bookshelves, with the books ending up in stacks all over the room, on every surface. the overall impression is chaotic.

The door opens, "Hello Pauline" says a deep male voice................

(This is closed for Katalyn, but comments by PM welcome)

Pauline truly didn’t know what path this new job will take her, the roads before were always dead ends. This one however had some promise to learn new things; he was a professor of anthropology after all. There has to be some benefit to this job when all is said and done. The only downfall to all this was, she only had the rumors of this man and they didn’t really settle right with her; secretly hoping that she doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. All in all though, she couldn’t complain too much, everything was being paid for, room and board included, and all she could now was do her best.


Pauline was greeted by a woman that took her suitcase, instantly Pauline massaged her hands a little from the tight grip the nerves had. The travel was long and tiresome and by the time she got there, she felt like a mess. Sadly, there wasn’t much time to get fixed up, or a restroom to see just how bad her burgundy hair was in. Back in the cab, a quick finger comb through the lengthy tresses and tying it up in a quick pony tail was the best that could be done. Deep blue eyes scan the inside, smoothing out her clothes as she waited for the professor, giving herself one last quick look over, thankful the silk stockings made it.

The sight of him was slightly intimidating at first, especially with the large dog next to his side. There were no words spoken and Professor Ederick, seemed a bit rude while he took the suitcase, but after all the rumors she had heard about him, it was to be expected. In all out honesty, she didn't have much for expectations to begin with, this was a job and he was the boss, end of story.

After being led into another room and the door closes behind her, it just shot into the nerves and they raced in circles while looking around the cluttered room. Once more trying to smooth out her hair and clothes before he came in, attempting to make herself more presentable. She took in a few deep breaths just when a deep voice broke the silence from behind.

“Hello Sir, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

She turned and held out her hand in greeting, feeling as heat rose to her cheeks when they made eye contact. In that instant she wanted to avert her eyes to something else, and yet fought the urge to do so, not wanting to appear rude. It was then she realized just how tall he was compared to her and she was taller than most women she knew. Pauline was almost just as tall, but he still had her beat by a few inches at least. If it was any other circumstances, he would be the type of man she was attracted to; having the height that most men do not compared to her and that deep voice alone sent sparks racing.

“I appreciate this opportunity and I thank you for this chance. I will do my best to not disappoint you Sir.”

It was difficult to keep her nerves strong and not show it, she just hoped he didn’t catch the nervousness in her voice. Typically, she isn’t the nervous kind, but this was a job situation and it was all she could get right now. Not to mention the lack of sleep and she seriously can not imagine how she must look right now. This was not the best impressions in the world, Pauline was making the best of it as much as she could.

Her first reaction was surprise, and a little confusion and she blushed a little with embarrassment. She hoped that Asian woman didn't tell the professor that she thought his gardener was him. Of course, she knew the professor wasn't called Ederick, but the long and tiring journey had befuddled her.

She was bought back to his presence as his hand took hers and she felt the warm dry skin, somehow reassuring. She looked back into his eyes, daring herself to hold his gaze. She started to say something more but couldn't trust her voice not to squeak from nervousness. He smiled and it was if he was built to be a reassuring machine, and she started to melt, just a little.

"Pauline" he said, as if to confirm such a name existed "so glad you got here safely" His hand still gripping hers. "As you know, my name is Fortescue D'eath, but no one has called me either of those names for years. Mostly, people call me Professor, or Fort, or Forty, and you may feel free to choose any of those that suit you, but don't call me Sir, that's for the house staff, and it wouldn't do for them to confuse themselves with us scientist"

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and the little Eurasian lady entered with a tray of tea and cupcakes. She placed the tray on a small round table, the only flat surface not loaded to spilling in the room. The professor finally released Paulines hand "ah, cupcakes" he said joyously, and immediately grabbed one, unwrapping it with such fervor that crumbs flew everywhere.

"I think you've met Katie" he says to Pauline, whilst waving a half eaten cupcake towards the woman , who smiled weakly at Pauline. "her real name is unpronounceable outside of Borneo, so we just call her Katie" and again the woman smiled, but with an accompanying raised eyebrow. "Great cook, better housekeeper and your new best friend" As he spoke, She smiled again and backed from the room, closing the door behind her.

He finished his cupcake, slurped noisily from a teacup that looked like a thimble in his large hands, then looked at her. "Right, Miss Pauline, let's get started........my, we are going to have some adventures you and me"

Pauline was both embarrassed and relieved at her mistake, but luckily she didn’t make it too obvious. Or at least she hoped she didn’t. It wasn’t like she verbally addressed the man in any fashion; still, the thought of the mistake was more than enough to chew herself out later. So far, the attitude of the Professor seemed to have relaxed her some, if he did know, there were no indication of it.

The handshake was more of holding hands that lingered a little longer than expected. When he pulled back to address Katie, she almost felt lost without that touch. It was a feeling that she couldn’t comprehend in that very moment, although, she quickly regained the moment of reality and followed what his words. The thought of having a best friend kind of threw her off a little, most the time Pauline was a loner, trust was not her greatest strength. Most likely would become best friends with the dog rather than a human. With a slight shrug, she figured there was a first time for everything.

For as hungry as she was, there was still some hesitation before reaching for the cupcake and munching on it. She thought about what he was saying about his name, and for her, it was always easier just to call men ‘Sir’. In this case though, it became obvious that wouldn’t work here.

“Where do we start? Sir… oh um… I mean… Professor.”

Great, another slip for today, so far this was turning out to be an awkward first impression. Instead of dwelling on it, she moved about the room, grabbing another cupcake and some tea. He somehow made it a little more relaxing, not much considering they were in a room alone together, it was the vibe and energy he had that was relaxing.

On a corner table laid a book that was covered in a thin layer of dust, Pauline finished the cupcake and dusted the book off a little. The cover was black leather with what appeared to be tribal writing on it, perhaps Aztec. She had been mostly studying Egyptian lately, considering it was the easiest thing for the schools to work with. Other languages she knew most and could more than likely figure this one out given time, it seemed to be older than what she is used to seeing. Naturally it made her curious to know what exactly the book was about.

For now though, she simply left it alone and brought her attention back to the Professor, even though her eyes were roaming everywhere else. No matter how hard she tried to not show her curiosity, her eyes betrayed her every time.

“Are there any restrictions to where I can go in this place? Or can I work anywhere I want to?”

The last question made her think for a moment, wondering if she’ll be working by his side at all times, having him look over her shoulders or if he’ll give some freedom to work alone. Either way the answer went, she assumed that he wouldn’t be there every second she is working.

"my dear" he said, spraying cake crumbs all over her, then he paused to finish the morsel "My dear, you must consider yourself as an extension of me, anywhere my research goes, you mus follow, so no, there are no restrictions........but there must be trust and there must be common sense" He smiles a little and shakes his head before continuing "My friends say I am far too trusting, and other women have abused that trust, but it is in my nature to see the best in people, so I dare think I will never change. So, providing you do not give me a reason to, I shall trust you with my work, and my life. I must caution you though, your research will bring you into contact with many strange and wonderful things, many we do not yet understand, and I implore you not to do or say anything that will.......um........trigger certain events" Then he smiles again, ignoring the confusion on her face.

"Now, where do we start" he says, as if the room was full of students, his teaching manners coming to the fore "where do we start........." He appears to be thinking, but in reality, he has rehearsed this conversation a dozen times. Her looks and figure are not lost on him, in fact, it was the reason he chose her, she is perfect for his..........tastes. He wants to expose her as quickly as possible - in the intellectual sense of course, although the physical sense would be nice too - so he has chosen an area of research for her that will immerse her immediately into a sexual environment.

"where do we start...............Hysteria" he says, feigning something of a eureka moment' She stares at him blankly. "Hysteria, my dear, throughout history, has been a form of madness particular to the female of the species, the word itself is related to the reproductive mechanisms of the female" He pauses to let her digest this, and takes the opportunity to devour his third cupcake.

"i have, in the basement" he continues "a number of devices and artifacts from stone age times through to the turn of last century, that have been used to attempt to relieve hysteria, ...........it has long been theorised that orgasm cured the ailment. I also have a number of manuscripts and writings from as far away as Egypt and the Greek isles, writings of antiquity. Your first task, dear girl, is to begin to collate and assemble all this material so that, together, we can author a book on the subject"

He smiles at her broadly, satisfied that he has given her a challenge she will enjoy, but also put her in a position whereby her sexual curiosity will be piqued, hopefully to his advantage.

Pauline does stare at him blankly, it isn’t like she hasn’t heard of the theory before, and it was always something that did intrigue her. It’s just, well; she wasn’t expecting to go in that direction. At least, not this soon, being their first time working together.

“Yes, I have heard of such claims and research. It’s also claimed that ……. Orgasms…. Cure other ailments as wells. It might as well be a cure all kind of drug.”

She tried to sound enthused about the task, but she was sure he heard the slight hesitation with no doubts. It was actually pretty rare that she thought about sexual things, all her time always went into work or study, making herself unavailable to cheesy dates and potential one night stands. The thought of this task did actually make her a bit uneasy, though she did try to hide it as best as possible. In all honesty, she’s never even been with a man, thinking of them as just a waste of time…. A waste of HER time.

“Ummm …. Sure, I can gather the materials needed…”

She wanted to ask where the basement was, after all, this was a huge mansion, many doors and who knows where they all lead. It could take her a good part of the day to find the one door that leads. Instead of sounding silly, she just proceeded to eat another cupcake and figured she’d make the best of it.


It was then it occurred to her that there is going to be some major exploring to figure this place out. There was something in the way he smiled at her that increased an uneasy feeling, wondering just what he meant earlier by “not to do or say anything that will.......um........trigger certain events”. All the sudden things were becoming very confusing.

“Oh, and I will not abuse any trust I gain from you. I know just how difficult it is to earn trust, let alone give it. People tell me I do not trust enough, but they are also the ones that don’t try to get to know me either. Well, I better get started on this task….”

With that, she took one more cupcake to go and proceeded to leave in hopes she’ll find the basement easy enough. “I mean really, how many doors can there be that lead down?” thinking to herself while opening the door. As an afterthought, she turned around and asked:

“Where should I bring these materials? Back in here or maybe one of the…. Bigger rooms, with a big table to lay everything out on. Like maybe the library or something?”

He laughs, not the gentle laugh of a friend sharing a joke, but a full blooded throw your head back guffaw, then catches himself and tries to regain some composure "oh my dear,how........" he was about to say naive but then thought better of it, thought it might offend her."..........how sweet of you.......when I said artifacts and devices, I mean to say that some of them are quite formidable........how can I explain" He thinks for a minute or two and then smiles "perhaps it would be best to show you.

He gulps the last of the tea and steps to the door, holding it open for her. She has to abandon her tea and half a cup cake to follow him. He walks briskly through the halls and she struggles to keep up. Downstairs, to the ground floor and then through the kitchen, into an arched recess that was immediately cool, probably the dairy and meat pantry in the days before refrigeration, and there, in the back wall is a heavy oak door built into an arch. It's not locked, he just lifts the simple iron latch and they step through, he throws a switch and the space is illuminated.


Her first impression is white, second impression is vast. The basement occupies the entire substantial footprint of the mansion and at some stage has been renovated and all the walls whitewashed. As they descend what appears to be very old stone steps, the extent of it is revealed to her, and the contents. There is row upon row of shelves, each groaning under the weight of books, artifacts, boxes and piles of loose manuscripts. There are artworks leaning against walls and larger items covered in dust sheets. He leads on, winding through the stacks while her head swivels at the wonder of it, aching to stop and explore.

He leads her to the end of the room. Ahead of her, the whitewashed wall is broken by another arch, and another door, although he doesn't mention what is through there. To her left is the boiler for the house hot water, and a stack of firewood, and to her right a set of steps leading upwards and yet another door, one she assumes is at ground level and at the rear of the house. She looks around and sees she is standing amongst a number of large objects covered by dust sheets. The professor turns to her.

"The smaller items, manuscripts and so on are in the last two shelves there" and he points back the way they have come and she turns and looks at two sets of dusty and overladen shelves. "and these.........these are the devices I mentioned" as he pulls a sheet off the nearest of them. At first she is a little surprised, it looks innocent enough, a gynecology chair, like she had seen at her doctors , and in fact, had sat in on one occasion which bought her no pleasure at all in memory. She stepped a little closer, and it was then that she started to notice some differences with the one she had known.

This one, for a start, had thick leather straps hanging from the stirrups, knee rests and arms. It also had a sort of clamp arrangement where the headrest should be, but the most disturbing thing of all, was that it had a large tray attached to one side, a tray covered with implements that didn't look anything like the instruments her doctor used. The professor grinned, though he was careful not to let her see, and turned to another object, pulling the sheet from that also. This time she gasped at the sight. It was an examination table, sloping towards her, with a hole in the centre. Beneath the table was a series of levers and gears, ending at the end with afoot pedal. The professor gripped the end of the table and pushed down on the pedal, as he did, a thick rubber phallus emerged from the hole and then retreated again. he pumped his foot up and down and the phallus pushed up and down rapidly.

He took his foot away and laughed again. "you see my dear, I don't think you will be moving much stuff to other rooms, but I will get Ederick to set you up a desk and chair down here"

He laughed so hard that it actually scared her a little, wondering what the hell it was she said that became so funny to him. Sure, she was naïve right now, it is only natural under any new position in life, but she figured these objects that he wanted would have been easily obtained. Clearly, she was wrong in that thinking.

It was difficult to follow him throughout the house, as they went along; she tried her best to memorize a few key rooms that would be helpful in the future. Even with that, it was still difficult, making a mental note of his fast pace. More doors were passed by, just increasing the ever nagging curiosity that was chomping at the bit as it was. If it wasn’t for him being here with her, she could easily get lost with the exploration of this place, the basement alone proved to be an adventure in itself.

Pauline couldn’t believe her eyes when he revealed the objects he was referring to. She was speechless for a good few moments, keeping a slight distance from the chair, having mixed emotions with her experience and visualizing it with this chair. It was something she would rather not think about right now, being strapped down to endure such events was far from a pleasant thought.

Her attention went towards the table, her fingers lightly gliding across the surface of it as she inspected it closer. It was confusing as to why it was a rubber phallus instead of something more crude in nature, like wood or steel; however, she didn’t question it right now that was at the bottom of the list of questions.

“Well, I can see why you laughed so hard and I understand now that there is no moving these, least not on my own anyway.”

A little laugh escaped her lips, trying to hide the shyness that these items were provoking. She did keep glancing towards the chair, curious about the items on the tray, though still kept a decent distance from it for the time being. Her foot went to the pedal that she watched him step on and stepped on it, making the dildo pop up. With some hesitation her fingers reached out towards it, touching it almost as if it was a real phallus.

Her cheeks flushed with heat, and attempted to hide it within her hair; it was caused by a slight tingle of excitement, something she hasn’t really allowed herself to feel. With that, she pulled her hand back quickly, letting go of the petal, not yet looking at him.

“These both seem to be pretty obvious in nature. What exactly is it that you wish for me discover about these items?”

It was a question asked with some reluctance, not really wanting to sound foolish in front of him again. But the items in front of her really did seem pretty obvious, she felt uneasy about being here, faced with such items. And yet, somehow it excited her in ways she couldn't comprehend, this type of sexual pleasure is something she would have never considered, let alone get excited at the mere thought of it.

“The chair is used to strap the person in, to keep them from failing all around while being forced to endure...... sexual things. The table seems to be for those that are more willing perhaps, naturally letting someone else control the speed of the….. of the phallus.”

She tried her best to sound somewhat professional, but actually speaking the words and hearing them come from her own lips increased that excitement she felt seconds ago. It became difficult to keep her face hidden while at the same time, attempting to be professional about this. She knew the heat was burning in her cheeks though, felt it rise from her collar bone.

"Ahh yes, Pauline, your observation is quite correct" he said with surprising enthusiasm, as if she had said something that excited him, and she had, she had given him an opening. "yes, we can see that these are simply mechanical devices, and what's more, they are devices from our near past, so we can even see the evolution of their modern counterparts, we can see how they were made, how they might have been used........but.........we cannot see the why, and we cannot see the who" she must have looked puzzled, because he paused, then lowered his voice a little, took on that classroom tone that she was beginning to recognise as the voice she must pay attention to.

"When I said these were from our near past, they are still distant enough that all of the people who used them, who designed them, are long gone" He waved his hand in the direction of the shelves "There are objects in there that are thousands of years old, that will challenge all of your knowledge of human behaviour...........and some non human behaviour as well........." he paused again, as if he was about to say more, then, with a little shake of his head, he continued "..........we know so little about those people, about what they believed, about what religious and spiritual context they lived in...........I suspect there are dark forces entwined in thee somewhere............"

He turned back to the two items, took a step towards the chair and laid a hand on the leather clad arm rest. "What sort of woman found herself strapped to this, what class was she, who made her do this, was she terrified, drugged, did she enjoy it.........was it successful, did it cure her............" He pause for a minute or so, staring at nothing in particular, stoking the leather absentmindedly.

"You, Pauline" he spoke with such vigor that he startled her "Your job is to tell me all about her, research research research." he waves his arm at the shelves again "Delve my dear, delve and read, sort and scribble, somewhere in there are her secrets, her answers"

He paces back and forth for a minute and then, hand on chin, thinks for a few moments and then turns to her again. He claps his hands together and grins at her. "In fact, we can start right now, we can find out exactly what a woman thinks when she is strapped to this....this monstrosity..........after all, it is here, a woman is here............" He sees her look of horror "Come come dear Pauline, it's just a chair, hop in and tell me what you think"

“I… I umm… I… “

She stammered to find words that will get her out of this. The chair itself had a wicked vibe that she didn’t like, it was clear that it mortified her to even consider sitting in such a thing. It was then she had to think quickly, to get back some kind of control over this absurd request of his. Her mind raced over everything he had said seconds ago, keeping what distance possible from the chair, demanding her legs to move, but they were frozen from shock and fear.

“Why just one woman? It is clearly a device as a.... treatment for clients and in some cases, used for torture. Just by looking at it, one can only assume they were terrified either way it went. However, if they were considered insane and it was used for that purpose, it is more than certain that drugs were used.”

Pauline really didn’t know what to think right now, that part that wants to impress him and keep him happy enough to not release her from this position. Then again, there was the other part that tried escape from such request, telling her to just go back upstairs and leave this room. She did bite her lip back in thought, she knew it wasn’t a harmless chair; it had many stories haunting it. Not to mention, if she did sit in it, and if he did strap her down, just how far would he go? It quickly became a trust issue in that loud heartbeat.

“I can tell you what I think of it just by looking at it.”

It was then she wanted to back up more, yet refrained herself from showing anymore fear towards it. A small part of her felt like he was getting off on her fear, trying to provoke some kind of hysteria in her just to test his own theories out. Swallowing her pride a little, her legs moved towards the chair that sent a shiver up her spine remembering what it was like at the doctors.

“The women that were forced into this chair were vulnerable; perhaps they even fought with their handlers. I mean, hysteria does crazy things to a person. More than likely they were either fully nude or in a simple hospital gown, being forced to expose themselves to strangers.”

Another shiver ran its course as she relived her own experience, having to shake her head a little to bring back the professional side of what was being said. Biting down on her lip again when that excited feeling crept up, making her insides twitch at hearing herself talk about such things.

“Those strangers do not care about her well-being, not her comfort, not her fear. Those strangers do not even care about who she really is. They see her as an experiment, every woman being the same to them. She's forced to have strange fingers and unknown objects probing at her and into her, seeking the same reaction as all the others before her.”

She paused for a second, thinking back on other cases,

“Or perhaps in a religious case, they were trying to convert her like history has done many times before….. Forcing her to submit to their religious ways. Other cases were meant to drive the demons out of the body as well.”

Watching her own fingers running along the backside of the chair, tracing the headgear part of it. There was that twitch again, a twitch that was slowly becoming an aching throb between her legs. Pauline circled the chair once coming to the front of it, her heart raced with fear mixed with excitement.

“As far as any of those theories go, whether they were successful or not, curing these woman or not, I can only assume that it depended on the women. Everyone is different, some can handle such…. Treatments… others cannot. It is possible that it drove some further into insanity.”

Pauline was lost in thought, not even realizing that he was now standing right behind her. There was a new vibe surrounding her and it brought her back to reality, realizing then that she was right in front the chair, her knees touching the seat. All the sudden, extreme fear came rushing in a pounding wave and she turned around quickly only to be faced with him. It took her a moment to comprehend that she was trapped between him the chair now. Unable to believe she allowed herself to get this close to the chair. With being so lost in thought at the time, she doesn't even remember when she took her hair down, but it was down now and it hid the mixed emotions on her face as she kept it lowered.

“Well, Professor, I told you how it feels to me… So, I should start in on those manuscripts and see what can be found.”

With that, she attempted to slink passed him, seeking a small chance to escape the moment.

As she sidled past, he placed his hand on her shoulder. He didn't grasp or try to restrain her, at least, not physically. The touch sent a little shiver through her and she just knew she could go no further. His gentle touch was like the pin through the body of butterfly in one of those display cases at the museum. She was paralyzed, rooted to the spot and she could feel her blood rushing through her veins, her heart beating, and her breath would be a roar in her ears, if only she could breathe. She had no idea why her reaction to his touch should manifest so dramatically, but she blamed the chair, blamed the aura of evil that exuded from it. How did she get in such a state so rapidly. Why, only moments ago she was scoffing cupcakes and sipping tea, and now, she was stricken with trepidation, hair awry and emotions disheveled.

"Now Pauline" and the normality of his voice bought a little stability back to her "when you signed up for this you knew some of the ....tasks..........would be a little out of the ordinary. I wanted you because you are bright and energetic and, dare I say it, adventurous. Don't fail me at the first hurdle dear" He took his hand away, she was released, free, but still she did not move. She breathed, at first a gasp like a diver breaking out of the water, then, with huge concentration, she managed to get it back to something akin to normality, and then he started talking again, in that teacher voice. "it is, after all, just a chair. If you didn't know it's history you would be happy to sit in it for a haircut" She was about to interject and tell him that at her hairdressers, having ones legs spread was not required, but she thought better of it as he continued, now grasping her elbow, gently, but the message was clear.

"Now be a good girl and just pop onto the seat, you don't have to put your knees up, just try the thing for size" he steers her towards it, turning her towards him as he does. She finds the back of her legs, shrouded in the sensible skirt, pressing against the soft green leather. She jumps a little but she has no room to move. His body is so close she can feel the warmth of it, smell his pipe tobacco on his shirt, and incongruously, clearly see the drop of egg yolk on his waistcoat left from this morning's breakfast. The only place for her to go is backwards. In a breath, she is sitting on the leather and in another, his hands are at her waist, lifting and pushing her so that she slides back into it's depths, her feet dangling, her shoulders pressing against the backrest, though sh keeps her head forward, not wishing to engage with the open clamp.

"Good, good " he says, circling her and it. Coming out from behind it he touches her right shoulder then trails his fingers down her arm. Wordlessly, he takes the two ends of the leather strap and pulls them around her wrist. She jumps again at the contact and starts mouthing a protest, but before any words can be uttered he touches her lips "hush, trust me, I just want you to get a feel of authenticity, no harm will come to you, I promise" She winces a little as he tightens the strap, a little too tight for authenticity she thought.

He pats her hand and then moves to the other side, and soon both her wrists are secured. She doesn't realise it yet, but she is as helpless as she has ever been in her life. He knows it, he planned it, but he never in his wildest imaginings thought he would have her here and restrained within hours of her coming to the house. He thought it would take days, maybe weeks, and probably would require the assistance of some of the drugs he had so carefully accumulated. Though he tried not to show it,he was very pleased, very confident, and very hard.

Pauline was beyond terrified, pulling at the restraints, her heart pounding in loudly in her ears, once more pulling against the straps. This isn’t what she signed up for; this wasn’t the adventure she had imagined. Terror fell deep into her blue eyes as more red strands hid her face, wondering just how she allowed things to go so far.

“Please…. I don’t like this… I… I …”

Her breathing picks up along with the racing heartbeat, fighting the urge to not close her eyes, losing some trust she had given him. The fear was not about getting hurt, the fear was about losing her strength, she was a very independent woman and in these times a strong will was difficult to obtain. The fear also came from the idea that she might actually like this, that throbbing between her legs grew ever more intense. With that, she closed her legs as tight as possible, refusing to put her legs up.

“I do not like this feeling…. I do not like feeling…. weak and helpless… I am not a weak person…”

She twisted and pulled her wrists, fighting hard against the straps, afraid to look up to face him right now. There was energy that came from this chair, one that was confusing her senses, it made unfamiliar heat rise that tinted her face. She could feel the hardness in her nipples with each shiver, and yet, she wasn’t cold.

Pauline couldn’t understand what these feelings were, fighting to deny the increasing desire that was much more difficult to comprehend. To make it worse, he was just standing there watching her squirm and fight with herself as if he was truly enjoying the dilemma with her emotions. Still afraid to close her eyes and afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of what she’ll see in his eyes. Let alone what her own eyes would betray to him. It was best to keep her head and gaze lowered. All this did not add up in her thoughts, it was becoming clear that this was part of twisted plan and she took the bait.

“Why did you truly bring me here Sir? I have no experience in areas….. of sexual nature… I’ve done what was asked and I don’t understand what it is you are seeking to find by me doing this.”

It was an innocent question, showing a hint of hidden submission behind the meek voice. Not realizing that she reverted back to calling him Sir. This was taking everything she had to keep any kind of control, not allowing the fear to take control. Eventually her hands stopped struggling against the straps, another sign of submission. Though, she kept her shaky legs tightly closed not trusting of the current situation. The weak feeling made her conscious of a growing wetness between those tightly closed thighs, praying that he doesn’t find out just how she was reacting to this.


"And how long must I remain restrained? I.... I'm frightened and confused... Sir... I don't like how this chair makes me feel."


Again calling him out of submission. The chair was having a huge affect on her mentally and physically, stirring emotions never felt before, a desire for something unknown. It was about that time she raised her eyes, not fully, just enough to see the hardness outlined in his pants, taking a moment to fully realize that is what she desired. Instead of admitting to any of that, she quickly lowered her gaze thankful that her hair hid the peek she just took.

He smiled at her, his indulgent parent smile. "Experience, my dear Pauline, is the last thing I wanted" He took a step closer to her and the chair, and again waved his hand towards the stack "Do you not think that all of this has been studied before, every scrap of paper, every morsel of information pored over, every contraption ..." and at this word he strokes the side of the chair, almost lovingly.........." tested and retested, and all of it, every bit of it, done by men" By now he is behind her, and as he talks, she listens, and she becomes still, not calm, for every fibre of her body is tense and anxious, but she is still, and quiet, a state she can't quite believe herself.

"So all of these learned men couldn't bring to this research....." his hands caress the head clamp ..........."the perspective of a woman"........he pushes the two halves of the clamp together, and they encircle her head, latching into place........"for it is true, that men and women think differently, they use different parts of their brain" He squats beside her left leg, gently places his fingers beneath her calf, lifting, sliding it into the rest. "to a man, this is just a chair, to a woman.......well, only a woman would know, but I suspect it is much more than just a chair to you" He smiles at her, as he straps her ankle to the stirrup.

He can see, from the state of her heaving chest, the nubbins confined within her brassiere making imprints on the satin of her blouse, that she is aroused, but then again, a blind man could tell also. Tell by the rapidity of her breathing, by the soft gasps as each restraint locked home. At least he thought it was arousal, either that or blind panic, or both.

He moves to her right leg "i suspect, Pauline, that even now, your woman's brain is in something of a turmoil. You want to trust me, you want to experience the chair " He clinches the last restraint home, then leans into her, his face inches from hers "but you sooooo don't want to either. Every fibre of you wants to escape the restraints........am I right" She nods weakly "but conversely, or contrarily, every fibre of you wants to know what happens next"

She is now fixed in the chair as she was those years ago when the doctor did those embarrassing things to her, but thankfully, her long skirt protected her modesty on this occasion, at least for the moment. Every time she squirmed, gravity and the angle of her legs conspired to make it slip towards her waist, so she concentrated on not squirming.

He walks around her and the chair, once, twice and then he stops, his hand rests on her forearm and he talks quietly. "I think, perhaps, you have enough research material to be going on with" and he smiles at her again. "typically, or so we believe, a treatment in this chair took 3 hours, and you have been in there.....oh........six minutes...........but that may be long enough for you to have had the experience......or not" he smiles again and strokes his fingers gently along her forearm.

"so, miss Pauline, you are beginning to realise what I expect of my research assistants...........and, I must say, i am pleased with your performance thus far.....and I would be further pleased if you agreed to continue our little trial, tell me what you are feeling so I can take notes........but, of course, if you really are distressed, i will release you immediately........the choice is yours"

Her whole body violently trembled like she was freezing, her jaw quivered as she fell silent. There was something in his voice and the way his fingers touched that caused weakness, unable to fight against the motions of her body. She watched when he lifted and strapped each leg, helpless to pull them back and keep them in place. More trust was lost as she recalled back to him saying she didn’t have to put her legs up, though, if she said anything, he would turn it around on her somehow.

“I would think if a man was to be strapped in like this, he would feel how this is not just a chair. Those men most likely have not been set up like this, so helpless and weak. Men do not treat other men as carelessly as they do with females, otherwise they would know the fear and loss of trust….”

It was too late to take that last part back, biting back her quivering lip and eventually closed her eyes finally. It was also then a silent tear escaped, trailing down her heated cheeks. There was no attempt to struggle though, not even a protest to be released, just simple acceptance to this fate. Deep in her thoughts she was trying hard to convince herself this was just research, to put some kind of trust in the situation, but the actual fear took that attempt and tossed out the window.

“I am horribly confused and embarrassed right now….. “

She took a deep breath, tried her very best to relax, refusing to let this fear grow any more than it already has. Though, her body told a different story, no matter how hard she fought it, the tremors would not be tamed, her hands were in a death grip on the arm rest, nails digging into the leather, and her legs remained too tense to struggle, unable to turn her head away, or hide her face, most she could do was keep her eyes tightly closed.

“I have no choice but to trust you…. To be honest…. right now, I’m finding it very difficult to trust anything. I have no control over what happens and I do not like that feeling. Like I stated before, I am not a weak person, but this is making me appear as a very weak person. It makes me show weakness that I hate showing. I feel frightened and there isn’t much out there that frightens me. It takes away any control I have over my emotions and that frightens me the most.”

The tone in her voice was as calm as it was going to get, there was some natural trembling within it as she focused on controlling it. There were other emotions hidden behind everything that was stated, however, she doesn’t understand those emotions, they were foreign to her at this time. Never having been truly aroused to any real extent, let alone relate it to such situations as this, these situations are not meant for pleasure. Struggling to replace being aroused with fear, not giving in to being aroused like this. The gentle stroking of his fingers not only increased this foreign sensation, it also seemed to relax her to some degree.

“I am highly stressed in this situation, my experiences in such…… chairs… as you so elegantly put it…. Have been far from anything I would consider pleasant. For as much as I wish to be released from this thing, I do not wish to disappoint you either. You said I did not have to put my legs up, yet here they are, strapped and spread, forcing me to fully vulnerable and that alone is extremely stressing. That makes it even more difficult to trust this situation and your word.”

She took in another few deep breathes, forcing herself to relax as much as possible, the shaking was still visible only now they were not nearly as violent as they were moments ago. That foreign, heated, throbbing sensation was slowly overwhelming the fear and she couldn’t grasp the reasons for it. However, it was also a feeling she refused to admit having, not only did she not trust the situation, but she wouldn’t know how to truly describe these emotions anyway.

“I can only hope that you will stick to your promise, of which no harm will come to me. Similar experience brought a lot pain and humiliation that I didn’t care for. Just as long as you don’t hurt me…..”

She felt like a fire was burning inside, her face was burning and there was no way to hide it, no way to hide fresh tears that fell freely now, or the shame and weakness that hid in those blue eyes when they finally opened. There was nowhere to really fix her eyes but straight ahead, noticing how high the skirt had risen. Realizing now that she had done more squirming to close the restrained legs, anymore movement and the skirt won’t hide the wetness that soaked through the white, silky panties. Once more, she refrained from moving, focusing on just simply sitting there.

"I will do as you ask..... I do not wish to disappoint you....And also can you..... um....um..."

and closed her eyes again, hating to herself as being weak like this, also more shame flashed through her eyes at having to ask for something so simple.. Not only that, it gives him the chance to see what the skirt was barely hiding now, but if she was to stay in this thing, she figured it was time to get somewhat comfortable.

"take my shoes off.... they are very uncomfortable in this....position... please..."

He certainly wasn't ignoring her protests, in fact, he was listening very carefully to her. He delved into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bound notebook, flicked it open to a blank page and started writing. Her reactions are just what he wanted, both from a scientific perspective and to satisfy his personal whims, and maybe satisfy a little more than just a whim very soon.

He noted her fear, her arguments about trust, and the range of her emotions. He observed her breathing, her pallor, the way her arms tensed, the way her fingernails clawed at the leather. He knew that in many cases, the women who had been subjected to the chair would have been drugged, and not far away from where they were now was a collection of the most likely pharmaceuticals that would have been used in those days, including several that were now illegal, but that, perhaps, was for another time, today, he wanted her lucid and able to provide him with commentary.

He pulled the little side table closer and the instruments and devices on it rattled, but he ignored them, for now, and simply placed his notebook and pen on it, then slid his fingers under her wrist and felt for her pulse. He shushed her and looked at his watch while he counted her heartbeats. "Hmmm, not ideal " he said, back in the classroom voice "it is quite possible that the bindings may effect the count. Remind me Pauline, to add a stethoscope to our research tools..........for next time" He moved to the opposite side of the chair and, to her surprise, leaned down and placed his ear against her heaving breast, but only kept it there for a few moments and then lifted it away again, shaking his head at the failed experiment. He picked up the notebook again and as he did, he saw her straining her eyes sideways to look at the contents of the table, a look of horror on her face. He smiled, she probably recognized some of them from her visit to the doctor, and could no doubt guess at the purpose of the others.

When she asked him to remove her shoes, his heart skipped a beat. It seemed such a simple request, but the ramifications, for a perverted soul such as his, were enormous. It presented an opportunity for him to touch her, and actually be invited to touch her, but much more than that, it gave him an opportunity to remove an item of her clothing. Sure, it was only shoes, but the symbolism of him removing them, by invitation, was significant. he felt like a teenager playing strip poker. He felt himself start to harden further.

He took his time, firstly, he had a good look at the shoes themselves, as women's shoes were something of a mystery to him and he didn't want to do anything too clumsy, but they were relatively simple, as befits a girl on her first day at a new job. Blue leather with a modest heel and straps with buckles at the outside of the foot. He cradled her left foot in his hand, unbuckled it and slipped it off. As he did, he noticed that she twitched a little as his fingers accidentally brushed the stocking clad sole of her foot, and the action caused her skirt to slide back towards her waist, just a fraction of an inch, but movement nevertheless. He looked around and then took a couple of steps across to the mechanical dildo table and placed the shoe carefully on there. He walked back slowly, tracking a little sideways as he did so that he could look directly between her legs and was rewarded with a glimpse of ivory silk beneath the folds of the skirt, which had now slid to the point where her stocking tops and the clips of her garters was visible.

He cradled her right foot, but this time, the buckle seemed recalcitrant, and as his fingers appeared to struggle with it, the cradling hand slipped up her heel a little, his fingertips tickling her lower calf. Predictably, and thankfully, she squirmed at the touch and the skirt moved again. He tugged gently on her foot, and even though her legs were restrained, she reacted to the pull and her bum scooted forward a little, and now the ivory panties, including a penny sized damp patch, were fully within his sight. He finally removed the shoe, "accidentally" tickling her sole for good measure, and took it to place it on the table with the other. As his back was to her, he had a little rub through his trousers and rearranged things a little so that his arousal was not so obvious, then turned and walked slowly back, devouring the sight of her silk clad crotch.

He laid a hand gently on her thigh, so very close to her stocking top "The price of nylons these days.........it would be a shame if they got laddered"

Pauline was at war with herself. Her body was craving for one thing and she refused to accept that, refusing to submit to these uncontrolled wanton motions of her hips, the ever increasing burning between her legs, the ache to feel his warm hands roaming over her flesh. The racing heartbeat was so loud in her ears that she barely caught what he had said about it, and the next thing she knew his head was against her chest, causing a natural arch in response, the hard nipples reaching and wishing for attention.

This was becoming too much, too fast for her to process though, everything was racing around in her thoughts, watching herself expose more of what was hidden beneath the skirt as he forced her to jerk around. At first, she truly didn’t think much about it, her focus mostly on the items sitting on that tray, praying that he doesn’t plan on using them. Yet, for some reason her body seemed to be craving for the attention of such items.

“I….. I can’t do this…. I can’t breathe…. I can’t focus…. I’m trying so hard to relax and I can’t… I’m not ready to ….. I can’t breathe…”

Using a tiny bit of leverage she scooted herself back into the chair, attempting to hide a little, which of course failed miserably. Her body responded to the hand on her thigh, rising up slightly expecting to be touched, though her mind refused to accept the contact, blue teary eyes focused on those items, a light sheen of sweat covered her tear stained face, matting red strands of hair that stuck to burning cheeks. Seeing those items again put her on the verge of sheer panic, one that she was barely holding back and it was written all over her face as she stared at the items.

“This isn’t how I wanted to…… I’m not ready for this…. I can’t breathe….”

The way she was thinking, it felt like she was struggling to escape, pulling at the straps, sliding in the seat to get her head free, all hopeless attempts of course, and it was what she was telling her body to do. To his eyes however, it was simple writhing, hips were ever so slightly humping the air, toes curled, and a heaving chest arched slightly seeking for attention. Her mind no longer felt his hand even though the body reacted to the touch. All the focus had been fixed on those items, triggering panic and there was a war to control the panic from reaching any higher levels.

“I’m not ready….. I…. I…. I’ve…. Never even…….”

Eventually she stopped straining against the head clamp, resting her back against the chair and reluctantly closed her eyes again, fighting so hard to keep from going into a full blown panic mode. The focus on the items became so overwhelming that she hadn’t realized he began to remove one of her stockings, suddenly feeling the material loosen and slowly slide down, followed by the warm hands gliding across her silky, pale skin. It was also then she realized her body had been responding on autopilot, betraying a need that she is purposely denying.

“Why can’t I breathe…..? I don’t think I can continue… how can I be of any use if I can’t breathe and focus? I….. I can’t even relax enough to be of any use…. My thoughts are so jumbled….. I… I can’t… be of any use like this….”

She didn't know what to do... If she asked to be released, the fear of disappointing him was there. If she kept going like this, the threat of a nearing panic attack would consume the situation. Then, there's losing her virginity, this isn't exactly how she imagined herself losing it, it was almost lost from the clumsy doctor, and here she is again, in threat of losing it to a similar situation. It wasn't suppose to be like this, especially on a job, the first day no less with someone she hardly knows, carelessly with crude tools instead of the actual man. All these things consumed her every thought, not allowing herself to feel the pleasure it can create.

"I'm not ready for such things..... I feel like I'm suffocating....."

She whispered and brought her attention back to the tray wondering if it'll be just as painful as it was with the doctor, wondering just how far the Professor will go with those tools.

He could sense her coming apart at the seams, which was ironic, because it was the seams of her stockings that were attracting his attention at the moment, or at least the sight of the seams disappearing as he slid them up towards her knees. which were raised above her hips. She was nearing the point, he thought, of the very thing they were attempting to study - hysteria.He thought that he could afford to cut her some slack, after all, he had progressed her to a point already that he had not dared hope he would achieve. He wanted to keep her around for some time, not burn her out on her first day. His head said that he should stop the experiment now, release her and tr again in a few days time, but his cock said to push on and see what delights she might surrender. The battle between head and cock was close for a while there, until he saw the panties.

Then, ironically, she offered the solution herself. She closed her eyes, relaxed her head in the clamp and started concentrating on breathing, as if she was in the throes of childbirth. He smiled, both head and cock could win, he could release her, though not physically, and still restrain her for future pleasures.

He ceased playing with her stockings and legs, he would have to loosen the leg straps to get them off completely in any case, and he was loathe to do that at this time. He pushed the tray away a little and stood in it's place, speaking calmly and quietly to her.

"I know this has all been a little fast for you Pauline and I only meant it to be for a minute, but your experiences are so real, so pertinent to our research that I hate to let such an opportunity to observe and take notes pass me by"

He strokes her hair away from her face "It pains me to see you in distress though, but it is all in your mind, you're not in danger, you won't be hurt in any way you don't want to be" he paused to see if she noticed his qualification on that little promise. Then he took a look at her panties, sighed and pulled her skirt over them, just a little, as a demonstration of his trust.

"I think perhaps we will both benefit from a little rest, a few minutes to recuperate and gather our thoughts. I'm going to go to the other end of the room, fetch you a drink and a cool cloth to wipe your brow. I'm not leaving you here, I'll be only a few yards away. While I am gone, I want you to remember all the sensations you felt in the last ten minutes and when I get back we'll jot them down"

He did just that, at the far end of the room was a desk he sometimes worked at, and near it, a pitcher of water and several glasses. He filled one and gulped it down, then he opened the desk drawer and took out a small folded square of paper. Cocaine was an occasional habit for him, he found it sharpened the senses when he had been working long hours on a research project, and he knew that it also made him rather aroused. He sprinkled half the powder into the second glass, then held the paper square to his face and snorted the remainder. He half filled the glass and stirred it with his pen until the white powder dissolved. He opened a few more drawers until he found a clean silk handkerchief and he dipped that in the jug and wrung it out before taking the two items back to her.

"here we are, a nice drink and a soothing wipe" but she barely reacted, seeming to have retreated a little into her own mind. He held the glass to her lips and she dutifully drank all the water, then he wiped away her tears and sweat. He picked up the clipboard and started taking notes, beginning with the dose of drug he had given her. He asked her to tell him her thoughts and she looked at him and started, but she couldn't get the words out.

He stopped her, "it seems to me Pauline, that you were calmer with your eyes shut, so perhaps we should try something" He placed the clipboard on her belly and leaned across to the tray, picking up a eye cover with an elastic band, the type old women used to help them sleep. He walked behind her and placed it over her eyes, the elastic passing around the clamp to hold it in place. He returned to her side and picked up the clipboard, which seemed to catch on her skirt and tugged it, returning it to a point even higher than it was before he pushed it down. He could see the shape her mound and the outline of her labia, and being an observant man, he saw that they seemed to have swelled a little from his earlier glimpse.

"Now Pauline, where ere we?"

Pauline wasn’t sure how she truly felt right now, becoming more aware of this wanton sensation that seems to be overtaking any other emotion. There was no choice at this point than to go into the depths of her mind, seeking refuge to calm the nerves down a bit, not wishing to embarrass herself any more than she already has. It barely registered that he had disappeared from sight, words felt distant in those few moments that he spoke, only catching a few things.

There were sounds in the background that, for a moment, brought her back to reality, the light clinking sounds of something hitting glass, followed by loud sniffing he had made; naturally she didn’t comprehend it enough to ask what he was doing. She just simply drifted back and took those few moments to relax. Everything was soothing from the cool water, the wet cloth he wiped her face with, all the way down to his deep voice. Pauline did manage to get her breathing normal again, heart rate still raced, although not nearly as drastic. When he asked for her thoughts, she couldn’t find the right word to describe them, trying to not think about any of this was the goal right now.

It didn’t take long after the blindfold was in place for the drug to start kicking in. If anything, the blindfold made her far more aware of exactly how this made her feel. Taking away the visual of the situation instantly helped control the panic stage. It still frightened her to some extent, but there was a greater need replacing that fear.

“I feel hot, like I’m burning up inside…. And… and also… an ache… it isn’t painful though… I… I……”

She bit her lower lip once realizing what she said; those things that she’s been keeping from him have slipped out without her consent. Shaking her head slightly, like she was trying to fight the feelings still, or not wanting to admit to what she wanted.

“Tingling all over…. Throbbing like my body is one big heartbeat…. It feels like I need something…… I don't understand these feelings... I don't know what I need or want....”

Her breathing picked up again, only it was different this time, indicating the intensity of the arousal, hips writhed as if they were seeking for something, shivers danced along her spine each time her clit twitched, causing her nipples to harden that much more. Lust was taking over and she couldn’t understand why or where these emotions came from. There was a struggle against the wrist restraints, however, it wasn’t from wanting to escape, and it was from a need to be touched.

Biting back that lower lip, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks again, afraid to continue speaking and uncertain of what to do now. Thoughts went back to those tools on the tray; trying to put focus elsewhere, perhaps bring back some degree of fear to hide these new feelings. That attempt failed though, she knew what they were used for and somehow it no longer scared her. She began to think of a reason to have him touch her again, to feel his hands roaming and exploring, for any kind of contact.

“You…. You were taking my stockings off…. If you wish…. You can continue doing that…. Feeling you touch me will also tell me your still here…”

That last part she knew was reaching, knowing just having him talking would indicate his presence, it did not matter, and she also knew that he wanted to keep touching just as much. Remembering the glimpse of the bulge in his pants from earlier told her that he would have no issues over such a request.

“I…. I… feel like…… the rest of my clothes should come off too…. I am… really hot right now…. The skirt is bunching up underneath and hurting me… You wanted this to be as real as possible…. The girls that sat in this chair before me were not fully dressed…I also do not want my clothes wrinkled...”

Again, biting at that lower lip as she reached for excuses to have those warm hands on her and she is oddly enough starting to relax more, feeling the discomfort of the clothes the more she writhed around, the shirt is twisted and tighter against the breasts, the skirt was bunched up and sitting against her tailbone wrong, one stocking partly off while the other one remained in place, even the panties were becoming uncomfortable as they wedge into the cheeks and tighten into the soaking wet folds. She couldn’t imagine how she must look right now, even before the blindfold; she didn’t pay much attention to all that. Now is different, being forced to focus on such simple things. With how everything felt right now, in her mind, she might as well be naked at this point, the clothes were no longer hiding much.

He said nothing, but continued scribbling notes as she kept talking, her words tumbling out ever faster, her breathing raged. He wasn't sure what effect the cocaine would actually have on her, it was, after all, a very small dose, but it seems to have acted as some sort of catalyst, driving her own emotions and senses to a different level.

When she told him to continue taking the stockings off, he caught his breath and started thinking about where that might lead, but before he could reconcile any strategy in his mind, she told him to strip her naked. His heart nearly stopped altogether. With the greatest of control, he stayed silent, kept writing, though later he would be able to decipher only a fraction of what he had written. He had to process her request, think about why she had made it and what it might mean. Oh there was little doubt he would strip her, he had sort of decided to do that whether she gave him permission or not, it was just that he wanted to do it in a way that would maximize the sensations for both of them.

There were the clamps and belts and buckles to consider. He thought, for a moment, that he might cut the clothes from her, and it occurred to him that it might be a very sensual experience, but fr today, it was hardly practical and would probably do more damage to her already tenuous trust of him. No, he would just have to work around the various restraints. He moved to the front of the chair and leaned down, reaching under it and moving a small lever. The front half of the seat fell away and now her bum was perched on the very edge, and if she hadn't been in the stirrups and wrist restraints, she may have slid straight off.

He could now stand between her outstretched legs, and it was not lost on him that his bulging trousers were within an inch of rubbing one her now very damp silk knickers. The chair, it seems, was perfect for many functions. He stood there, careful not to actually rub against her less she became overwhelmed, and loosened first one, and then the other knee restraints. She made no effort to move her legs and, in fact, seemed quite relaxed. He slid his hands gently up her left thigh and deftly unclipped the clasps holding the stocking up. He noticed that she, being a sensible girl, had pulled her knickers on over the garter belt. He slid the stocking down, ensuring his fingertips skated gently along her bare flesh as he did. He cupped her calf and eased her leg out of the rest, allowing him to slide the nylon past and pulled it from her foot. He couldn't help but notice how elastic and strong the hosiery was, and thought about what other uses it could be put to for the right girl.

The other stocking followed, and he watched her face intently as he peeled it off. The blindfold was still covering her eyes but he sensed she was concentrating on feeling everything that was happening. Her red coated lips were slightly parted as she breathed. He brushed his fingers deliberately along the leg band of the panties and smiled as she emitted a quiet gasp and arched he hips towards his hand.

The skirt was next, and as he fumbled with the clasp at the side, she lifted her bum in anticipation of it's removal. He didn't disappoint her, sliding it over one leg at a time and then taking it to the table, folding it neatly, the action giving him time to catch his breath. He turned back, his eyes, indeed, his whole being, focused on the silk panties. He stepped between her legs, and hooked his fingers into the garment at each hip.

Again she lifted her bum, and again he didn't disappoint. As they slipped away from her he drank in the sight of her cunt, the neatly trimmed and corralled pubic hair, the swollen labia, glistening with her arousal, the clitoral hood peeking from the top of her slit, open due to her position in the chair and her receptiveness for whatever might come. He lifted each leg in turn and slipped the panties off of her. he didn't place them on the table, but rather bunched them up, sniffing their heady scent, then shoving them into his pocket. He stepped back, to admire her and to give himself time to catch his breath. he was tempted, having seen how ripe she was, to immediately try some stimulation on her, but he remembered that she requested to be fully naked, and so he still had some work to do.

He re-buckled the knee restraints and reached for the buttons on her blouse.

Her body tingled and throbbed both at the same time, yet her mind still didn't know what to make of it all. There was a part deep down that remained to struggle with what was happening, they were her words that requested this, it was a desire to feel more, and the physical fight had died as the drug enhanced the sensations. That part that struggled however, knew this wasn’t right, trying to convince the rest of her that these feelings were wrong, things were happening far too fast. The rest of her wasn’t listening, pushing the negative to the side, for the simple reason that she wanted to yield to these new sensations, denying them became tiresome. Also knowing that he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon added to that submission.

“I…. I don’t…. Understand…. I… I’ve never allowed myself….. to… be vulnerable…. It feels wrong…. It’s distracting…. I just don’t understand..… these sensations… this… this need for more… It’s confusing…”

The tone in her voice was mixed with confusion and lust; the words came out a bit meek, uncertain of how to express the emotions to him. The drug didn’t completely numb what she thought, it wasn’t that potent. It did however, intensify the sensations he created against her burning flesh, the intimate touch made her melt and weak minded, surrendering into the vulnerable position she was in. It didn’t matter how weak and exhausted she was from traveling, or from the fight to keep control since being here, all that did matter in this very moment was the overwhelming desire and need for more. There were times when she wanted him to go slower, either to savor those strong, gliding hands, or in fear that things were moving too fast, whatever the reason, the request never escaped.

The places his hands roamed were very distracting, they may have seemed like simple areas, yet, they are areas that are never touched so intimately, aiming to drive her wild. And once the panties were removed and a rush of cold air hitting the wetness, confirming that there was no turning back, her legs restrained once again, there was nothing left to hide from this point, no backing out. The part that struggled to keep any kind of rational thought screamed for control, but it was too late for that. The rest of her needed more now.

“This… this doesn’t feel right…. But, I don’t wish for you to stop… and I don’t know why……. I… I like how your hands feel… please don’t stop… your touch re…”

She instantly turned deep red, biting down on her lip after realizing what escaped, something she had no intentions on ever admitting, let alone ask a request like that. Her head turned slightly in a failed attempt to hide the shame, unsure of why she even said that or how he would take to her admitting such a thing.

"I..... I'm... sorry.... I don't know what's come over me.... I'll..be quiet now..."

"oh please......." and he stopped, realising that his voice was scratchy, betraying the tension building in him, the tension that must surely be filling the room to bursting point. He imagined it straining at the windows, seeping under the door sill. He shook his head, coughed a couple of times and took a deep breath "oh please....." much better, back to the well modulated timbre he cultured so diligently, appearing professional, when i reality, he was little more than a well educated sex fiend. "please Pauline, speak as much as you want, I'm recording everything you say " and he scratched the pen on the clipboard to give some evidence to the lie.

In reality, she didn't need to tell him too much about what she was feeling, her body did a lot of talking by itself. He knew she wanted more, her swollen labia, her wetness, the scent of her, her hips thrusting towards his hands were akin to a bitch on heat raising her tail to a frantic dog. He also knew she was wracked with contrary emotions, guilt, fear, desire, and a longing to be satisfied and yet, an almost overwhelming urge to scream "stop" at the top of her lungs, but it never came. The blindfold too, was causing all sorts of conniptions within her. In the darkness, she knew not what he was about to do, until he did it, and then it was too late to protest. If it was off, she would see what he was getting up to, and could tell him to stop, or at least modify his actions..........but then again, she didn't actually know what she thought he should do or not do, so the blindfold, in a way, was her way of trusting him, or at least that's how she rationalized it.

He stood between her legs and reached for the buttons and this time there was no avoiding his crotch coming into contact with her increasingly aroused cunt, and the dampness immediately spread to his trousers. The fabric rubbing against her flesh made her jump, and in her heightened state, it felt like sandpaper. He paused, flexing his fingers, noticing for the first time how much his hands were shaking and the shivers of anticipation that were coursing through him. He took a breath, and uncoupled the first button, and then slid his hands down the satin to the next. When he unbuttoned that, the edges fell away revealing the delicate hues of the lace and wire contraption, and her swelling breast contained within, the pale skin shining with her sweat. The fact that she was naked from the waist down did not diminish from the eroticism of seeing a glimpse of lace and breast and he became very conscious of the state of his cock and exactly what it was resting against.

He took another breath and undid the remaining three buttons, spreading the blouse open and revealing the brassiere in it's entirety. He slid his hand around her flanks, an action which required him to lean more firmly against her, and she arched her back to allow him access, and with a few moments of fumbling he unclasped it. A little tug and it fell forward and her breasts sagged just a little with their new found freedom. He shifted his attention to her arms, firstly unbuttoning the cuffs of the blouse, and then the restraints, and again, she was careful not to remove them from the rests, as if she was afraid that such might break the spell.

A few moments of tugging and manipulation, and she was naked, save for a thin gold chain and locket, two faux pearl earrings and a signet ring engraved with her initials. He reattached the belts to her arms and, as he cinched the last buckle into place, he sensed her actually relax a little, as if she had resigned herself to this fate and was ready to accept it.

He allowed himself a moment to admire her breasts, rising and falling with her steady breathing, each grapefruit sized orb tipped with a dusky pink areola and darker nubbin. He reached out to her left breast, cupping the warm flesh in his hand. She flinched, but said nothing, nothing that is until he rasped his thumb across the nipple, whereupon she gasped softly as it stiffened and elongated until it resembled the eraser on a pencil.

There were no words to describe anything she felt right now, it was all far too overwhelming in those few moments. The sensation of the clothes coming loose took complete control over other senses, slipping away and allowing cold air to hit fresh skin, forcing her to break out chills. Without her consent, her hips grinded against him, it scratched though the pressure of hidden hardness felt incredible, her body searched for its source, feeling the heat and pressure when he leaned against her, the smooth hands roaming underneath drove her insane, gave this sudden urge to press herself more against him.

When the restraints on her wrists came free, she strained with the loss it caused, fighting the urge to beg him to put them back on, knowing the reason she was free. This chair forced new emotions, driving into the need for submission. The fight she had in her mind died out, forming this raw intensity she no longer tried to understand. She just simply melted into what was happening. Letting herself actually enjoy being weak and vulnerable for once, forgetting all about the bad experiences this provided in the past.

IT wasn’t until she felt the warm flesh on flesh contact with her breast, followed by an unusual and overwhelming sensation she’s ever felt, that it fully dawned on her that he was finished, she was fully nude in front a someone she hardly knew. The wrongness of it all came pouring back, fighting to break free and stop this; it was far too late to stop. Things she wanted to do, she couldn’t, instantly realizing the restraints were in place once more, finding a strange comfort from them.

“Don’t stop…. Please…. Don’t leave me here…. I…. I…. keep touching me…I need to feel you close… to…. To feel you… kissing me… anything just don’t leave…”

Her breathing picked up, the words were in between gasps, there was no control anymore, raw lust overcame any fear, this whole time her hips never ceased their grinding against him, bringing on a whole new sensation. She could feel the intensity of an orgasm building, though the grinding was not nearly enough to break it.

“I need something more…. Between my legs…. Aches and throbs… it feels good to have you there…. But… need more… ”

She gave a deep groan in frustration, filled with a greater need to seek pleasure while her hips writhed and reached to keep him close, her legs struggled with a need to trap him there. It drove her insane not being able to tell him what exactly she needed, or wanted, fighting to find the right words. Naturally she knew what sex was all about, it was simply a subject she chose to stay away from, not caring for the distractions it caused… Like right now for instance.

“I don’t know what I need… I don’t know these sensations, let alone describe them… I’m sorry… I’m trying…I… I don’t what I want… I can’t control the sensations I feel, can’t make them go away… I’m trying to fight them….”

It was clearly a lie, she gave up trying a long time ago when he started to undress her, and deep down the rational voice kept probing and forcing a way to keep professional, no matter how much it failed. The sensations were just too overwhelming, clouding any thought process that tried to break through.

"Please... I need you...."

He felt a little odd. He had exactly what he wanted, her, naked and begging for more. But he felt a little odd.........he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was a feeling, not quite of foreboding, but certainly one of disquiet, of uncertainty. Although his current activities with her were more to do with his perversions than with the research he purported to be conducting, his academic training started to forge it's way to the front of his mind. He tried to rationalise his feelings, find some reason why he should feel this way, even while his hands roamed her body, raising goosebumps on her flesh and causing her muscles to twitch.

Certainly, her current state of submissiveness had come to be very quickly. He was expecting days rather than hours to achieve this much, but perhaps she was just ripe for the picking. Then there was the chair itself. He recalled her hesitation in even touching it and he assumed that was simply her memories of past experiences, but surely that had just been a simple examination. She had also remarked, several times during the past hour or so, that she felt some form of force, an evil sense and she had several times alluded to the chair having a personality.

He absentmindedly traced his fingers back and forth across her lower belly, skirting the crown of her trimmed pubic hairs, the muscles in her vee twitching each time he flitted across them. He thought back to when he had acquired it, how he had to climb the stairs to the top floor of the abandoned Lunatic asylum to inspect it, tucked away in a long forgotten storeroom. His guide was a soon to retire caretaker who had once been an orderly, until modern medicine had overtaken the need to keep vast numbers of psychiatric patients restrained and confined. The man was anxious to talk, telling tales of the inmates and their treatments with every step up the four flights of gloomy stairs. He had unlocked the door of the storeroom and pulled the sheet off of the wonderful contraption........."it's haunted you know" he said, but it took a moment for the Professor to take it in, before replying "the asylum? yes, I had heard such stories, if one believed in ghosts"

"no" said the caretaker "well, I mean yes, the asylum is haunted, but I was talking about the chair" The professor stared at him and half smiled............what a foolish notion........but if the caretaker detected his cynicism he made no sign of giving it any regard, and continued "They reckons that a young girl, only 18, the youngest who ever had the treatment, well, they went too far and she died.......died of pleasure. After that, every time they strapped someone in there, they'd start to feel real good like, and start moaning and writhing and carrying on all slutty like. They reckons the girl wanted another woman to come wiv her. in the end they had to stop usin it, and stuck it in here"

He bought himself back to reality with a shake of his head. He didn't believe the story then, and he didn't now, it was preposterous. He looked at Pauline, her lips parted, breaths coming in short panting gasps, her nipples rigid, her body coated with a fine sheen of sweat, and he did start to have some doubts. In the interests of science though, he must push on, at least that's what he told himself.

He moved to the front of the table, between her legs and pulled up a small stool. He sat on it and his eyes were level with her vagina, her wet and partially open vagina, the labia swollen. He raised both hands and rested his fingers on her thighs, while his thumbs pressed into her labia and pulled them away from the centre. He could see the inner labia, urethra and clitoris, and it was the latter that he was seeking. He had read that a woman could orgasm from contact with her clitoris alone, and that such an orgasm was more intense than one achieved by penetration, with the added bonus that the female could retain her virginity. He intended to put that theory to the test.

He moved his hands so the the fingers of his left kept her splayed open, the right he rested on her pubic mound and pressed the ball of his thumb against the nubbin of her clitoris.

Pauline was forced into this rabbit hole, spiraling further into its depths, having no idea the exact point of when she truly submitted to this…. To him. Sure, there was a fight in the beginning of all this, and yet, given the few chances, here she remains under a submission she didn’t understand. The further into this rabbit hole she went, the more she felt, visions slowly became vivid as if they were real. None of which made sense, physically she remained here with him, feeding off the roaming hands, groaning and writhing towards fingers that exposed her even more. Such a simple touch created waves of reactions and emotions, every muscle tensed as she raised her hips towards him, whimpers escaped with every breath taken, hands gripped the arm rests.

This was a completely different experience from the one she had with the doctors, one that made any and all fears disappear. There was more to this however, a deeper and stronger emotion probed into her, a very dark vibe that did not come from the Professor. No, this one came from the chair; the history of the girl was coming to life the deeper this rabbit hole went. Pauline could feel the girl, feel the pain and pleasure they put her through, the girls thoughts and submission to every orgasm they ripped from her.

Pauline wanted to say what she felt, the visions that were pouring into her mind, however, the words never escaped. The girl consumed Pauline, forcing her to feel far more than what the Professor was doing between her legs, if it wasn’t for him being there, Pauline would be lost completely to these visions, and he provided the slightest bit of focus to reality.

Although her body reacted to the intensity of what this girl made her feel. They had gagged her with a dildo like gag providing the sensation of sucking on a cock, which in turn, Paulines mouth opened wider and her tongue slowly swirled around as if she was gagged. They had used electric currents to keep stimulation of her nipples strong, causing Pauline to arch towards an invisible sensation, her nipples peaking to their fullest. It felt as if both holes were filled, stimulating every nerve within her body.

Pauline was sweating and crying out with so much pleasure, never knowing the human body can take such stimulation all at once. Her body writhed and arched to the memories of this girl, reacting to the very simple touch of the Professor, and he can tell she was about to break and also that there appeared to be more going on that what was physically happening.

Her mouth movements at first puzzled him and amused him. His first thoughts were that she was having some sort of episode, and then he realised that she appeared to be sucking an invisible cock. This startled him, but once he got over his surprise, it also aroused him, and gave him some pause for thought. While still massaging her clitoris, he placed the middle finger of his free hand into her mouth and immediately her lips closed around it, sucking furiously while her tongue swirled around the tip. He smiled and added another finger to her mouth and she increased her enthusiastic sucking.

While his primary aim at this time was to make her cum, and somehow measure the intensity of her orgasm for reference later against a penetrative orgasm, he was really starting to get to the point where he needed also to cum. His cock, erect as it was, was uncomfortably confined within his trousers and had oozed a little precum, creating a wet patch inside which almost exactly matched the patch on the outside where he had rubbed against her cunt.

He had continued massaging her clit as she arched and squirmed and sucked and he knew she was getting close. It wouldn't hurt her to edge for a few moments. He took his hands away and watched as she pushed her hips up and strained against the headband, searching for his fingers, desperate for him to finish her. He started undressing. For what he intended he could have simply unzipped and slipped his turgid member into the open, but something, perhaps the cocaine, or perhaps just his extreme arousal, made him want to be naked with her. His trousers got caught on his shoes and he tugged them off without unlacing, incongruously leaving his argyle socks on, but his slightly ridiculous appearance, naked but still in hosiery, worried him little.

He reached under the chair and wound a small wheel and the back of the chair eased down a little, bringing her head level with his hips. The catch on the head clamps was quite simple, he simply had to push a lever up and the two halves hinged open and fell behind her, although he had to hold the blindfold in place lest it too fall away. She kept her head in place as if the clamp was still there.

He stood at her right side and resumed resumed massaging her clit with his right hand and as soon as he touched her she moaned and resumed her phantom sucking. He replaced his fingers in her mouth. Before long she was a mass of twitching and writhing flesh and he slowly withdrew his fingers from her mouth, bringing his hand towards himself. Her head turned and raised from the headrest, following his fingers and when she was fully turned towards him he slipped his fingers away, grasped his cock and placed the tip of it to her lips. She pounced like a hungry calf onto it's mothers teat and sucked the head into her mouth. He eased his hips forward and she hungrily took as much length as he offered, her tongue swirling around the tip, lapping up the bead of precum, slurping a little, her breath hissing through her nostrils.

She wasn't the most experienced fellatio artist he had encountered, and he winced a little as her teeth rasped against his tender flesh. He grasped her hair to slow her down a little and whispered, "open wider my sweet, try not to bite" She was apparently a good student, for she reacted straight away and he felt just smooth lips and tongue from that moment. Now having his left hand free, he reached across his body, being careful not to disturb her mouth, and lightly pinched her nipple. The reaction was dramatic. She arched so hard he thought she would tear the wrist straps from the frame, and he guessed she was close. So was he.

"Cum for me Pauline, cum like you've never cum before"