ELSIE
by
c532c and C. Lakewood
My name is Dr. Elizabeth Granger. I'm an associate professor
of psychopharmacology, in my early 30s, and I teach and do research
at a large midwestern university. Something happened a short time
ago that...well, it's like THOSE dreams...and I'm not sure what's
going to happen next.
My students and I conduct research in the classroom on a
regular basis, and this requires getting bio-samples from the
research lab in the university hospital. Usually my grad
assistant, Tanya Taylor, took care of this chore. Tanya, an
attractive, light-skinned black girl was sound academically,
I suppose, though I really doubted she'd ever be quite good
enough to merit a PhD. But she was certainly competent to do
the grub-work I assigned her. One week, however, she developed
a monumental head cold, so I went to the lab myself.
It's a high-security complex, and you need proper photo ID to
get in and to go from one room to the next. It's also bio-secure
-- which means that, when I entered, I first stopped in a small
ante-room where I had to remove my heels and put on paper slippers,
then don a sterile paper robe that completely covered my suit.
Thus attired, with my university ID prominently clipped to the
paper robe, I would progress from one room to the next -– showing
my lab paperwork and ID along the way -– till I was given the box
of innocuous samples to take back to my classroom lab.
It was just the ordinary procedure that Tanya did every week.
But...I got this strange feeling. There in the ante-room, when
I had put my shoes and purse into a locker, slipped the key into
my pocket, and then put on the paper garment that covered my
clothes...for a moment I had the naughty idea that I could have
taken off ALL my clothing -– put everything I had into that locker
-– and walked through the lab completely naked under the paper robe.
I know it sounds completely ridiculous for a woman of my
standing to even imagine such a thing. And yet....
And yet, once I got the notion, the fantasy just wouldn't leave
me alone! The next week I gave Tanya some meaningless chore to do,
just so I'd have an excuse to visit the lab again. And, this time,
when I was alone in the ante-room, I didn't take off only my shoes.
I peeled off my pantyhose, removed my jacket, blouse, and even my
skirt, folded everything neatly, and secured it all in the little
locker. Then, tucking the key carefully into my bra, I put the
paper robe on over my undies, donned the paper shoes, and walked
clear through the complex, thrillingly aware of my secret.
How can I describe my feelings? It was like those dreams in
which you're standing naked in front of the class, only, in this
case, I was the only one who knew it. As I walked about, feeling
the paper robe brush across my bare back, my thighs, my ticklish
ribs...I got incredibly turned on. I almost hated the moment
when I returned to the ante-room and had to once again don my
professorial attire.
Over the next few weeks I kept finding excuses to go to the
secured part of the hospital. And I kept upping the stakes. At
first, I just peeled down to my undies. Then, one day, I summoned
up my courage and took off my bra as well. The shiver that ran
through me as I placed it in the locker and turned the key thrilled
me right down to my naked pink toes. And, when I put on the robe,
the sensation of my stiff nipples brushing against the sterile
paper almost made me dizzy!
The next time, I decided I'd go all the way...I'd be
completely naked under the paper gown. And that, I guess,
prompted a disturblng fantasy....
******************************
In my fantasy, I'm standing in the private ante-room, removing
my smart suit and blouse, shoes, pantyhose, jewelry, bra...and
then, before I can think about it, I skim out of my sensible
panties and add them to the neat pile of clothes in the locker,
along with my purse, cell phone, credit cards, keys...everything
but my university ID and the precious key to the locker.
This time, when I put on the paper garments, attach my ID
badge, and pick up the paperwork that is my excuse for visiting,
I feel myself flush, breathing oddly, heart pounding as I make my
way along, totally naked under that flimsy paper robe, clutching
the key tightly in my moist hand.
My mind wanders down weird pathways, and I imagine that --
suddenly -- the fire alarm goes off...and the overhead sprinklers
are activated...and my paper robe begins to dissolve...and it's
so humiliating....
And so exciting.
I'm practically cumming just from the thought, when there's a
voice behind me: "I THOUGHT so!"
It's Tanya, standing there in the hallway dressed in paper gown
and shoes. Though startled, I attempt to compose myself. Surely
she couldn't know, couldn't even suspect....
But she does!
"So...I see you're into this, too." Tanya moves close to me
and says in a low voice, "You're naked under that paper gown,
aren't you? Just like me!"
I blush deeply and try to sputter some kind of denial, but she
smiles knowingly.
"Going to the test lab?" she asks in a low voice.
"T-Test lab?" I stammer. "What's that?"
"You don't know about the test lab?" Her eyes sparkle with
mischief. "But that's the best part of this whole place!" She
seizes my hand and pulls me along with her, and I'm scampering
to keep pace in my paper slippers, the light gown billowing about
my otherwise naked body as we pass down one hallway after another.
Finally we reach a secure-looking door where Tanya swipes her
ID card and then punches in an entry code, her fingers darting too
swiftly over the pad for me to see. The door opens with a sound
like an eager sigh, and I can't help shivering as we tiptoe into
the cool, dark room beyond.
It's a small room, with a few chairs, a table, video recording
equipment, a solid-looking, metal door leading who-knew-where,
and a large observation window.
I feel drawn in, drawn to look through the window, and right
away I see that it's one-way glass, enabling us to see into the
next room without being seen ourselves. And, in that room....
I stare in wonder, in erotic disbelief at the scene through the
glass before me. Women, nude, some shaved completely bald (top AND
bottom), pleasuring each other as lab-coated technicians study them
and take notes.
My eyes go wide, and my lips part as I take in the picture of
women using their hands, fingers, tongues, lips -– and a variety
of devices -- to get and receive sexual joy from one another. The
panorama of moving bodies, the muffled sounds of ecstasy make me
dizzy with....
With what? Am I aroused by this? Oh, yes! I mean, even
though I'm not gay -- not really -- and I don't envy these lab
test subjects, do I? -- Do I? -- this situation is so...so....
"It's a new drug they're testing," Tanya whispers in my ear,
and the subtle brush of her breath on my neck makes my knees weak.
The muskiness of her natural scent seems unusually pronounced.
"It's designed to increase sexual responsiveness in females. All
these women volunteered for this study...and I don't blame them."
I can't answer, still staring wide-eyed, lips parted, as I
watch, intrigued by the sight of all this.... I find my eyes
drawn irresistibly to a woman in the center of the room. What
a sight! She's stretched spread-eagle in a stout frame that can
apparently be pivoted into a vertical or a horizontal position.
At the moment the captive is horizontal, and a cute mulatta is
straddling her head. Other women are fondling her breasts and
reaching between her legs....
And Tanya breathes in my ear, "Wouldn't you like to join them?
I do sometimes. It's so simple. Watch!"
She saunters over to the computer console by the window and
types in a few commands. Seconds later, a laminated badge rolls
off the printer and into her delicate hands.
"This identifies you as a test subject."
"ME?" I protest weakly. "But I thought...."
"C'mon! It'll be funnnnn!"
In my fantasy, Tanya strips off my paper robe and slippers. I
cower and try to cover myself with my arms, but she's reassuring.
"I'll take care of your things. Now, don't dawdle." She hands me
the tiny plastic ID badge and gently pushes me into the next room,
her fingers on my bare bottom thrilling me even as they propel me
into....
The room is sterile, but softly-lighted and warm.
And very small.
I thought I'd be entering the room where I saw all those happy
females, but I'm in some kind of tiny reception area, with barely
room to turn around. Nervously, I clutch the slippery plastic
ID badge and hold it down over my puss as I look around,
half-crouching, one arm over my breasts to hide my stiff nipples.
There's a light flashing red over a wall monitor. I peer more
closely and see a slot marked
INSERT ID HERE
I obey, surrendering my last scrap of identification into an
anonymous machine, and the screen flashes
PROCESSING...PLEASE WAIT....
Seconds later, a new message appears:
WELCOME SUBJECT L-C 7.
PLEASE WAIT FOR TECHNICIAN IN SEAT PROVIDED
There's a metal, lattice-work seat-like thing built into the
wall, curved like a female bottom. I'm gaping at it when a buzzer
sounds and the screen flashes, in larger letters,
PLEASE WAIT FOR TECHNICIAN IN SEAT PROVIDED
I hurriedly place my bare bottom in the cold metal seat, and
-- OUCH! -- something jabs my left butt-cheek, and, at the same
time, there's a tingling pressure on my right. I spring up and
twist vainly. But there's a mirror on the far wall (probably
another one-way glass), and I can see a red spot on my left butt
where I've apparently been given a shot. On my right, there is
printed:
L-C 7
I feel dazed. What was in that shot? And the mark on my
bottom...is it ink or a permanent tattoo? Before I can react,
two mannish-looking young women in lab coats enter. The machine
on the wall spits out my ID card, and one of the women, a tall
red-head with the name-tag "Sandy" glances at it and nods. "It's
an L-C." She looks knowingly at her partner (a short, dark,
olive-skinned woman putatively named "Olive"), who giggles, then
turns to me. "C'mon Number Seven."
I hesitate. What have I got myself into? Where's Tanya? But
the attitude of the two techs warns me not to resist. Hugging
myself for cover, I follow the red-head down a corridor, tiptoeing
in my bare feet on the cold tile floor, while her partner walks
confidently behind me, openly grinning at my tattooed bottom.
In a fantasy, things tend to happen quickly. They take me
to another room, and, before I realize it, they have shaved me
completely bald -- hairless, except for my eyebrows.
"Wait!" Eyes wide, I stare at my all-pink self in a mirror,
running a hand in disbelief over my bald scalp, and then darting
it down to cover my equally smooth pussy. "Y-you can't do this!
I'm a faculty member! I must get back to my class!" I try to
cover myself with my hands, but I can't resist tweaking my stiff
nipples just a bit, and pressing a finger into my warm, wet cunt.
That's a dirty word -- "cunt" -- and, if it's as needy as mine,
it's no longer a vagina, or even a pussy. Even though it's as
smooth and hairless as a pre-adolescent's, it's a CUNT! And --
oh, god! -- they could see me playing with my nasty cunt. I jerked
my finger away, though I desperately needed to cum. What a bitch
I am!
"It's starting to take effect already," Sandy grins.
"What's with this new L-C series anyway?" Olive asks her,
ignoring my protests as if I were just a whining child. "I
know it's supposed to be a quantum-leap of some sort, but...."
"The original L-for-Libido series increased sexual arousal in
the test subjects." Sandy makes notes on a lap-top as she talks.
"But it made them difficult to monitor effectively. Once a subject
had cum a few times, she usually just wanted to curl up and rest
awhile. This L-C series -- C-for-Control -- really ratchets up
the arousal, but also adds a thick layer of inhibition. First,
and incidentally, it makes the subject feel ashamed, even
humiliated by her need.... See?" She points to me.
I'm blushing furiously, my hands darting all over my smooth
nudity for some kind of cover. I feel my tummy fluttering, my
knees going weak as I half-crouch there, terribly embarrassed
by my naked plight -– and intensely turned-on.
"And, second, more importantly, it makes it hard -- VERY hard
-- for her to satisfy that need," Sandy went on.
"P-pleeese," I beg. "I-I'm not supposed to be here! Give me
back my clothes and l-let me go, or...." I feel another wave of
desire rippling through me. "Or just leave me alone here for a
few minutes?"
"Sorry, Number 7," Sandy laughs. "Your Test Profile calls for
maximum exposure and maximum stimulus...." She squints at her
lap-top. "And no relief!"
"NO RELIEF?" My eyes widen. My jaw drops. And I blush even
redder. "You mean I can't...you won't let me...."
Then I look wildly around, noticing the big standard wall
mirror that reflects back my shameful, hairless, numbered,
totally naked image.
What's on the other side of the glass? Who? Is Tanya there?
Watching all this...and licking her lips? I shiver with
humiliation at the thought that a mere grad assistant might be
seeing me like THIS! I clutch my arms about me to cover my
shameful state.
But maybe this is my chance. I stumble over to the mirror and
start beating my fists weakly against the smooth surface.
"TANYA! Help! Get me out of here! Get me my clothes!
HELPPP!"
"Are you sure that's what you want?" Olive smiles. "Or would
you rather get in here for a while?"
She's standing by a heavy frame. The straps are dangling,
waiting...for me.
Shivering with embarrassment, quivering with desire, I timidly
take my place and meekly allow my wrists and ankles to be secured.
The fantasy shifts.
I'm still in the frame, and my wrists are still secured to
it, but my ankles are merely tethered. Though I can't close my
legs, I can move my feet up and down, and I'm working out on a
stair-stepper. I'm tired and stinking of sweat and cunt-juice,
but I drive myself on. I can see the fat black dildo pointing
at my drooling crotch.... So close! If I strain, I can just
a-l-m-o-s-t brush my cunt-lips against it.... Almost. Oh, god!
I really NEED it.... I'm soooo horny! I wriggle wildly, trying
desperately to reach the one spot that so terribly needs to be
reached. My exertions cause my butt to jiggle and set my boobs
bouncing comically....
And then I realize I'm back in my class! The frame is set up
in the front of the room. The classroom fills up with students
-- my students! They see me -- ME! -- naked and bald, writhing
in heat. The men leer, the women giggle and smirk, and Tanya
stands before the class lecturing. She's taken my clothes, my
class, my place in the university...EVERYTHING! And she's stuck
me here like this, a human guinea-pig for her studies.
My only solace is that none of the class recognizes me.
"Today's case study," she announces, "is of a once
highly-respected professional woman, and the effects of
pharmacological experimentation...." She turns from the
class and looks at me, flashing a secret smile at my shameful
nudity, before she continues in a professional tone, "Subject
L-C 7 -– we can just call her 'Elsie'...." She reaches out
and jiggles my left breast for emphasis. I gasp and blush
even redder as a titter of amusement ripples across the
classroom -– even as I respond hungrily to the sly, erotic
brush of her thumb across my erect nipple. Oh, how I need
to cum!
"Once a woman near the top of her profession, accustomed to
wearing stylish clothing and living in expensive places -- but
her home from now on will be this frame."
WHAT? What does she mean "from now on"? I've got to get out
of here! But I don't dare speak; if these students should hear my
voice...recognize me.... I struggle silently in my bonds, and the
only result is to wave my tits and ass around....
"And the only clothes she'll wear," Tanya continues, "are the
occasional items of restraint her handlers deem necessary."
Again she flashes me that secret smile -– and winks! I
struggle even harder. A sheen of sweat coats my nude body as
my former students stare, wide-eyed and grinning, at the shameful
sight I've made of myself.
"But, to this creature we call 'Elsie,' none of that is as
important as the sexual relief she so desperately craves. Watch
this."
Tanya dons a latex glove and gently strokes my nipples.
Instantly my struggles stop as I thrill to the stimulus.
Then she reaches lower and gently -– oh, so gently! -–
slithers just the tip of a finger into my brimming cunt.
I push, I writhe, I strain...trying to achieve a deeper
penetration, trying to manoeuvre myself so the tantalizing
gloved finger will contact my swollen clitty. But just then
Tanya withdraws her hand from my crotch, raises it to my face,
and pops the finger into my mouth.
A murmur ripples across the classroom as the students watch me
eagerly sucking my own juices from Tanya's finger. The men laugh
and shift in their seats for a better look. Some of the women curl
their lips in disgust, other giggle, and many just watch fascinated
at the sight of me, squirming naked....
******************************
I blinked, forced myself to stop day-dreaming, and brought
myself back to reality, standing naked in the little ante-room
of the secure lab facility, having stowed my clothes in the
locker and just about to put on the regulation paper robe. I
wasn't a test-subject; it was all just a fantasy.
My fantasy.
And then the outer door opened, and Tanya entered.
To be continued....