I got the idea for the ball device (and its use) from "Intimate Physical Training" by Anon1940. My thanks to him for allowing me to borrow it. ELSIE by C. Lakewood Part 2 My name is Dr. Elizabeth Granger, and I am an associate professor of psychopharmacology at a large midwestern university. I'm in my early 30s, and, for most of my post-pubescent life, I've been a secret pervert. I might as well admit it, for now I've been discovered.... ****************************** I had just forced myself to stop day-dreaming and return from one of my typically lurid fantasies. In the real world, I was standing naked in the little ante-room of the university's secure lab facility. I had just stacked all my clothes in a locker and was about to put on the regulation paper robe.... And then the outer door opened...to reveal my grad assistant, Tanya Taylor. ****************************** We were both surprised by the situation, but she recovered much sooner than I did. I was standing there, naked and stunned, when she whipped out her cell phone. And I was still gawking at her when she snapped several pictures.... Oh, shit! A camera-phone! I had managed only to stammer a few meaningless syllables when she put away the device and pushed me into a corner. She then proceeded to stow her shoes in the locker I was using, close it, and pocket the key. "Give me that key, Tanya," I croaked. "Be quiet! You are in no position to give orders," she sneered. She slid her feet into a pair of paper slippers and then put on a paper gown over her street clothes and attached her ID badge. (In the process, she deftly took charge of my own badge.) "Now, listen...," I said, tentatively. "No, YOU had better listen -- and do what you're told -- unless you want those pictures e-mailed all over campus." "You wouldn't...." "No? Just try me." "Please, Tanya...." "Call me 'Miss Tanya.' And put on your paper uniform." ("Oh, god!" The thoughts tumbled through my mind. "Being ordered about by my own grad assistant -- a black girl to boot. But I don't see I have a choice...for now. Until I can figure a way out of this mess, I have to temporize....") So I obeyed. ****************************** She herded me along then, down some corridors I was unfamiliar with, and finally into a men's room. She quickly checked to see that there was no one else there, and, after a moment's thought, she pushed me over to a louvred door and used my laminated badge to slip the simple spring lock and open up what turned out to be a small supply closet. "Strip," she said. "I-I couldn't.... Not here!" She frowned. "Look, I don't want to go through an involved scene with you every time I give you an order. Enough is enough. From now on, you'll obey me, or something worse will happen to you. For example, if you'll take off your paper clothes and hand them to me nicely, you'll get them back in due course. If you don't, I'll rip 'em off you and tear 'em to shreds...and you can figure out how you're going to get home butt-naked. Now, are you gonna strip, bitch?" I stripped. ****************************** She locked me in that closet, naked, and left, saying only, with a laugh, "Ah'll be ba-ack." She was gone what seemed like ages. Of course, there wasn't much in the closet of interest -- some toilet paper, a few light bulbs, and several bottles of liquid soap. From time to time, one or more men came into the restroom to pee, and that was interesting. I had an excellent view through the louvres and was fascinated by the variations in size, curvature, and coloration -- and whether they were circumcised or not. But mostly I just stood around in that stuffy little closet, cursing "Miss Tanya" and worrying about the possibility of being discovered. (Well, actually it was was a mixture of worrying and fantasizing....) By the time my so-called "assistant" returned, I was on the ragged edge. When the lock finally clicked and the door opened, however, I was caught off-guard. "Miss Tanya" made a face, coughed, squinted at me, and took a step backward. "Judging by the smell, you've been enjoying yourself in there," she sneered. (Crap! She knows!) I cringed, mortified. She tossed me my paper clothes. "Get dressed," she said. "It's time to go home." (Hers or mine? I wondered, vaguely, as I hastened to obey.) After retracing our steps through the now deserted and dimly-lit corridors, we stopped briefly in the ante-room, where I was allowed to replace my paper garments with a scandalously short baby-doll dress and a pair of cheap flip-flops. ****************************** It was dark out when we emerged from the building, for which I was very glad; I would have been totally humiliated to have been recognized dressed the way I was. As it turned out, we reached my car in the faculty lot without incident. She got behind the wheel (of course) and ordered me into the back seat. We drove just off-campus and parked in a fairly dark residential street. "Give me the dress," she said, peremptorily. "I...I," I began, although I knew that arguing or even stalling would be useless and probably counter-productive. "Do it now," she said. "Or should I turn on the interior lights?" "No, M-miss Tanya," I quavered, pulling off the dress and handing it over. She then took a considerable detour to drive through brightly lighted downtown while I cowered on the car floor. Then we swung back toward the university and were soon pulling into the alley behind my house -- a red brick, ivy-covered Victorian cottage. She parked in the detached garage and then made me scamper, naked, up to the kitchen door and wait while she let herself in the front and took her own sweet time about walking through the house and opening the back door for me. My relief at being inside my home at last was short-lived, however. Tanya made me stand at attention, naked, while she told me the way things were going to be for a while. "Just stand there and listen," she said. "Don't talk, don't argue, don't expostulate. You'll find there've already been a few changes, and, believe me, there'll be more. I've moved in here and will be living with you until I get my degree...at which time, if you've been a good girl, you can resume your old life -- if you can stand it. I've done my research on you and know you're pretty much a clever crypto-racist in academic garb. Nothing, really, that can be proved, but clear enough for me. I've got an advantage now, and I don't intend to relinquish it until I'm beyond your reach. It won't be so very long...not for me, anyway. A year and a half should do it. Then I'll be a black female with a PhD in a swinging science, and I'll be beating job offers off with a stick. But it'll seem longer to you, because I intend to get some payback along the way for those you've screwed in the past. I'll take the bedroom, of course. There's a old sofa in the basement that you can sack out on. And you'd better turn in now. There are no classes tomorrow, but it'll be a busy day." I nodded and, defeated, slunk down to the basement, where I curled up on the worn old couch, comforted myself, and drifted off to sleep, wondering what torments that black bitch had in store for me.... ****************************** Smack! I abruptly came back to near-consciousness with a sharp, painful slap on my bare bottom. "Wha-" Smack! The second slap brought me completely awake, and then I was mortified to realize, belatedly, that I still had my hand between my legs. "Get up, Lizzie, and get your lazy ass moving. You've got chores." "Can...can I have some clothes?" I asked as we went up the stairs to the first floor. "When you go outside...to take out the trash and mow the grass. Indoors, you'll stay naked until further notice. And there's plenty to keep you occupied inside the house.... You're really not much of a housekeeper, are you? But, if you value your ass, you'll learn." "I used to have a...cleaning lady...." "A nigger?" "Well...y-yes...." "And now I have my own servant. Sweet. Anyway, last night I poked around some, seeing what had to be done, and of course I checked out your computer. I found that you've got quite a number of protected files. What's the password?" "I...I forget," I murmured, lamely. (God! I hoped like hell she believed me, because I just couldn't let ANYBODY read those files -- especially this bitch.) "Shee-it! You better not lie to me, girl. What's in there?" I thought fast. "Nothing of any significance. Whenever I did drug studies, the companies would send me a lot of proprietary information, and I'd stick it in there to keep it safe. But it all must be out of date by now...." Miss Tanya scowled, but then shrugged and started giving me instructions on how exactly I was to clean house. (I had fooled her! Superior intellect had won out over native brawn!) After having to shave my crotch clean, I spent the morning slaving away at domestic chores -- naked, of course -- washing dishes, doing laundry, dusting and vacuuming, scrubbing floors and toilets...everything I hated doing and generally postponed (or just skipped entirely) if I had even the flimsiest of reasons. After my triumph regarding my protected files, however, I was glowing and didn't mind the work too much (even though that black bitch spent a lot of time "supervising," aka humiliating me with a stream of snide comments). At midday, Miss Tanya enjoyed a nice lunch while she watched me "edging" -- masturbating myself right to the edge of orgasm without ever actually going over. I had to do it repeatedly, as she munched ham salad sandwiches and sipped green tea. By the end, I was a sweaty, disheveled bundle of nerves, aching for a cum. Then we went shopping and spent the afternoon looking for clothes that were "more appropriate" for the new me: garter-belt and nylons (since I couldn't wear pantyhose any more), mini-skirts, ultra-short baby-doll dresses, tube-tops, crop-top t-shirts a size or two too small.... Of course, we patronized only garish shops with young, black salesgirls who laughed and sneered easily. They crowded into the changing room and made fun of my lack of underwear, my lack of pubic hair, my relatively small breasts, my grubbiness (even though they themselves stank of musk and cheap perfume), the tackiness and youthfulness of the clothes I was forced to buy.... I even had to "edge" some more while those girls watched me and shrieked with laughter. That evening, there was more edging, over and over, and, when Miss Tanya finally allowed me to turn in, I was practically exhausted. But not quite. I was, in fact, looking forward to being alone, so I could at last bring myself to a much-needed orgasm. But she prevented that by tying me down, on my back, spread-eagle. She left me there in the musty darkness, trembling with my overwhelming need to cum, and fantasizing about what I was going to do to her when my chance came. Meanwhile, I suppose that things could have been worse. ****************************** The next day was more chores and more edging...and several spankings (with a house slipper), when I was slow or clumsy or morose, and which left me blubbering and calling her "Momma" and promising to be a "good girl." On Monday, classes resumed. I had twelve hours of classes a week, including a seminar and a lab, all of which Miss Tanya attended (either as student or assistant), so it was not difficult for her to keep a fairly tight rein on me. I really don't see how I got through the first few lectures, I was so jittery. I was allowed to wear my regular clothes to class -- though the skirts were shortened to mid-thigh length. Mini-skirts and no panties...and having to "edge" repeatedly between classes.... ****************************** Tuesday and Wednesday were marginally better. I was gradually coming to terms with being naked under my skirt, with flashing my thighs everywhere, and with having to do all the household chores to perfection. It was torment, however, having to keep my cunt stimulated while never being permitted to cum. And it was almost as bad having to go places after school -- to the grocery store or even a porno shop -- dressed in my new, tacky, teeny-bopper clothes, with my hair in pig-tails. Most men would leer at me, and most women sneer. ****************************** On Thursdays, I had only one lecture and a seminar, both late in the day, so we were home to take delivery of a small parcel (at which Miss Tanya seemed immeasurably pleased). She handed it to me and told me to unwrap my "present." I found it was a pair of balls, outwardly similar to ben-wa or vibro-balls. These, however, were solid metal, highly polished and gold-plated, each about 1.25" in diameter and heavy (perhaps 4 ounces apiece). A small hole was drilled through the center of each ball, and a short, strong nylon cord connected the two. "You're going to be using this to exercise your cunt," she said. "First, edge some more until you're all nice and juicy, and then stick one ball just inside your cunt and let the other hang outside. You won't be wearing panties, of course, so you've got to hold the one ball inside you simply by contracting your cunt-muscles around it. You will feel it even when you're sitting down -- but you won't be doing much of that. Moreover, when you're standing, the weight of the dangling ball will keep the inside ball snugged up against your G-spot and the area just behind your clit. Your cunt'll be constantly stimulated...while your mind is preoccupied with the worry that you're going to drop your balls at any moment." She giggled. "And it's worse when you're moving around." After I had the upper ball in place, she told me to stand up and walk around some. I clenched my cunt-muscles and got up. I could definitely feel the pull of the hanging ball, but it wasn't too bad. As soon as I took a step, however, my thigh bumped against the hanging ball, which tugged sharply on the inside ball and sent a tremor of fear through me that I'd lose it.... But I found that, as long as I concentrated, I could keep a grip on the the ball...and, in fact, clutching that ball with my cunt turned out to be...well, exciting. (I did wonder, though, if I could possibly keep it inside me as long as Tanya wished...hours, maybe.... Maybe all day!) Then we drove to campus and met my class. Throughout my lecture, I was acutely aware of those damn balls. Standing behind the lectern, I kept clutching my cunt around at the ball inside me, and the result was not unpleasant...physically. But it caused me to lubricate, heavily, and that in turn made my grip increasingly tenuous -- and my mind increasingly distracted. I finally had to bring my presentation to an abrupt conclusion and dismiss class early. By the time Miss Tanya and I got back to my office, I was almost at the end of my tether. Nevertheless, she made me strip naked and do a series of squats, until my poor, overworked cunt was screaming and I was begging her to let me rest. "Rest?" she said. "You really want to rest? Wouldn't you rather cum?" "Oh, god! Yes, Miss Tanya. Please let me cum." She grinned impishly. "Okay. Lick your balls clean, and then I'll let you." I obeyed her eagerly. She'd let me cum! It had been so long! I pulled out the device and licked it until it was clean and gleaming. At a nod from Miss Tanya, I put it aside and reached for my cunt. And she slapped me. "Silly bitch!" she snapped. "Not just yet...and not that way." She pulled off her sweater and slithered out of her skirt and panties. She was as bare as I was, but rather sexier...in a lush, "Third World" sort of way. She sat her naked ass down in my nice leather desk chair, stretched, and said, "Okay, bitch, you want to cum, you can hump my leg." I gaped at her. Surely she couldn't be serious. I did need to cum -- badly -- but I just couldn't do it that way. Then my cunt lurched, and I wasted no time in straddling her. "And look at me while you do it. Admire my big breasts...and thick nipples...and juicy cunt.... And remember that I can cum any time I want, but YOU can cum only when I give you permission. So go ahead; get at it." As humiliating as it was, my need to cum was stronger, and I began to slide my drooling cunt up and down Miss Tanya's leg, like a bitch in heat (which I guess I was). She reached out and began playing with my tits -- which were so immature, compared to her lush breasts. She twisted my nipples, encouraging me to work harder.... And I was grateful. My gaze shifted downward, over her belly to her cunt. (She had impressed it upon me that she had a cute little "pussy," while a bad girl like me had a nasty "cunt" -- but, just at that moment, I didn't care. She had a "cunt," too...a dripping, black-and-purple lipped, fuchsia-lined, beautiful cunt that mesmerized me as I humped my greedy crotch along her leg. I leaned forward slightly and breathed in the spicy aroma of her twitching cunt.) It was all wonderful, but it didn't take long. Suddenly I was wracked by the most massive orgasm I'd ever had. It left me weak. practically unconscious, but I did have sense enough to thank Miss Tanya and, unbidden, to lick my slime from her leg. "You seem to have enjoyed your cum, which is good -- because it's going to be a long, long time before you get to have another one." I shuddered. "Yes, Miss Tanya," I whispered. I was vaguely aware that Miss Tanya was stripping me of my self-esteem as easily as she had stripped me of my clothes. But this nightmare wouldn't last forever, and she would eventually learn that payback's a bitch, too...and that I had put a great deal more thought into these matters than she had. And I had an IQ of 148. She looked at her watch. "Almost time to head off to the seminar. Get dressed...and don't forget your balls." ****************************** Part 3 When we left the office that Thursday evening, the air in the corridor seemed unusually fresh and pleasant. A moment later, I realized that, after our session, my office must smell like a whore house...or, more to the point, a dormitory at a girls' school. I hoped the ventilation system would dissipate the stench -- or what would the cleaning crew think.... ****************************** The seminar that night really wasn't too bad. By the nature of the class, the students did most of the talking, and I was sitting down during the entire period. But, even in that position, I was still very much aware of the heavy ball inside me, and my cunt muscles would sporadically squeeze it. That, as before, caused me to lubricate heavily, and that, in turn, induced me to remain seated until the last student had left, because getting to my feet was, under the circumstances, a very tricky manoeuvre. My skirt was too short to sit on, so I had sat with my bare ass on the chair. As a result, I left a large wet spot on the seat. And, for a moment, I was afraid Miss Tanya was going to make me lick it up. ****************************** Back home at last, I had to fix a light supper for us (cold chicken, brie, a nice Riesling, and sliced pears). I couldn't fully appreciate it, though, since I was distracted by having to "edge" throughout the meal. Afterward, while I washed up, Miss Tanya brewed some tea -- a special blend, she said. And, over tea and biscotti, we chatted a while (mainly about her plans and ambitions). It was rather a pleasant evening, all in all. But I had barely finished my tea when I began to feel very lethargic -- too much labor, too much edging, too much stress, and not enough recuperative sleep were catching up with me. Then Miss Tanya jolted me awake by asking me a technical question. "What do you know about Doepazine? What does the book say?" "Um...." I visualized the write-up. "'Doepazine is a taradiddle drug, similar to Halozine, but more powerful. Both are used primarily to render patients docile. Side effects include: heightened...suggestibility, shlurred speech, a...certain...um...difficulty con-centrating, and often a shlight temporary menemory loss...memory loss. (Ahem) In addition, there is generally...some...um...reduction in bla-ladder control. The libido, on the other hand, tends to be increased...significantly. The mind tends to remain relatively clear, however, and....'" I was vaguely aware of being stretched out on the old couch, but then things tended to become fragmented...to go in and out of focus. I heard her voice, as if from a distance. I couldn't quite grasp what she was saying, but her tone was soothing. Miss Tanya could be so sweet sometimes.... And then.... I was apparently having a gynecological exam, my feet in the usual stirrups -- except my ankles and wrists were secured so I couldn't move. I was naked and aroused. Both the doctor and his nurse were black. He was an ape; she was an amazon. "So, Elizabeth -- or is it 'Elsie'? -- you understand that the program you have volunteered for requires you to undergo a certain...reconditioning." ("'Volunteered,'" I thought. "Sure.") "But I'm okay," I responded aloud. "Normal." The doctor cleared his throat. "No, Elsie, all is most definitely NOT okay...NOT normal." He frowned. "It is certainly not normal for a woman to be masturbating as often as you do." I was speechless. But I knew it was true. I was...a-a dirty pervert. "You are a chronic masturbatrix. As an adult, you have averaged -- AVERAGED! -- just over three times a day. But lately you have doubled, tripled, QUADRUPLED that. Yours is an extremely serious case and will require severe treatment. "You often become become sexually aroused, and, when you do, you are in the habit of masturbating to orgasm." He nodded to the nurse, who slapped my right buttock and swabbed it with alcohol. She held up a syringe. "Among other things, this will prevent that," the doctor continued. "My arousal?" I asked. "Oh, no," he said, benignly. "This -- or rather one component of it -- will, in fact, block your ability to orgasm." The nurse stuck me, none too gently. "Simply put, regardless of the stimulus, nothing will make you cum," the doctor added. "I-I'll lose my libido?" I gasped. He shook his head and went on in that bland, matter-of-fact, doctor-knows-best voice, his tone so much at variance with the meaning of his words. "No, quite the contrary. Indeed, another component of the drug cocktail we have just given you...." (Did he say, "we jes' done gabe yuh"?) "Will actually ratchet up your sex drive to a level surpassing that of the most hormone-addled adolescent. The two components together form a most interesting combination...most interesting, as someone in your field should appreciate. The injection was an extra-large initial dose, to sort of 'jump-start' the process. Hereafter, you'll receive your meds in suppository form." "S-s-suppository?" "Yes. It's quite effective. Soon -- very soon -- you will be desperate for an orgasm...and quite incapable of having one. I'm afraid that the accompanying frustration is an important part of the treatment. "Moreover, one never builds up a tolerance for these meds. If anything, they tend to have a greater and greater effect as time goes by." "How...how long will the...'treatment'...last?" "Impossible to say, really. Weeks...months.... Perhaps a very long time." Despite my predicament, I felt myself -- oh, god! -- beginning to get wet. I also had a certain feeling of déjà vu, but the clamoring in my cunt made it hard to concentrate, and the notion slipped away. Trembling and sweating, I wanted desperately to touch myself. I looked up and murmured, "Please? M-may...may I...?" "Tsk, tsk. It won't help." "Oh, god! Pleeeeeez?" He sighed. "If you insist on being delusional, Nurse Fox will demonstrate how futile that is." He nodded to the grinning black bitch. She smiled thinly as she reached down and caressed my poor, needy cunt with a feather touch that turned me on more, but which I knew would never get me off. "M-more, please.... Please." "Very well." She slid her fingers inside me, teasing my swollen clit with her thumb, driving me higher and higher. "Aaaaaaah," I gasped. My orgasm was building. Crawling outward from my crotch, the sensation was becoming intolerable. I was going to erupt any instant, because it just couldn't get any more intense without erupting like Vesuvius.... But it DID grow more powerful as she continued to play with me, changing tempo, moving skilfully about. It grew and grew and.... Then it plateaued. It stopped growing, but it didn't diminish, either. And, most important, I didn't cum. I writhed and squirmed and ground my crotch against her hand. I tried to will myself to orgasm, but that failed, too. The nurse stared down at me, her expression a mixture of triumph and pity. "You're right on the edge now, Elsie, and that's where you'll stay...for the next 12 hours or so. After that, you'll come down -- a little -- but not enough.... "Not enough...not enough...." And everything went dark. ****************************** It was dark, but not completely dark. Some moonlight slanted in through a small, high window. I blinked, and my initial disorientation passed. I was in my basement, on the lumpy couch. That nightmare exam had been...just a nightmare. There was something familiar about it, though.... But, more important, was my poor cunt. I caressed it and shivered. It was wet, so wet...and needy. I doubted that even The Black Bitch would have infra-red cameras spying on me during the night, so this was a chance to get myself off, over and over. I tickled my clit. Delicious! If only I weren't so damn tired.... ****************************** When I woke up again, it was light, and I could hear Miss Tanya moving around upstairs. God! I didn't dare play with myself now! How could I have let that opportunity slip away? Moments later, she came clattering downstairs. "Wakey, wakey! You've got some chores and some edging to do, and I want you to get a move on, because we're off to the mall this morning before class. You're going shopping for shoes." "M-may I wear panties, please? Or a longer skirt?" "Of course not! And I'll spank you later for having the gall to ask. The uniform of the day is tube-top, mini-skirt, and NO panties. Gotta give all those minimum wage shoe salesmen some stuff to ogle, right?" Oh, god! I knew exactly how that would play out, since I had read any number of stories featuring that sort of thing.... Read...stories...? "And maybe we can also stop off and get you a piercing, too," she chuckled. Wait a minute! There was a tiny alarm bell ringing deep in my subconscious, trying to alert me to something.... Stories.... Crap! The nightmare exam, the shoe store, forced piercings (and tattoos!), age-inappropriate clothing, power reversal, orgasm denial, racial payback, spankings, the whole D/s thing.... "My secret files!" I gasped. She laughed. "Took you long enough to catch on." "But those files are protected!" "Protected! Piffle! I broke that password with ease the very first night. 'Rosebud,' indeed. Pretty lame -- and that movie's over-rated, too. But there was a lot of good stuff in those files -- stories AND pictures, but especially the stories. I loved seeing the sort of porn you collected...but, even more so, the sort of porn you WROTE. Fascinating...particularly all those girls in their teens and early 20s, dominating and humiliating arrogant professional women in their 30s and 40s.... I must say that you have quite a way with words, when the subject is in line with your baser instincts. And you've provided me with many choice ideas that we'll be exploring -- in depth -- before I leave you." My cunt started to twitch. In any other period of my life, I'd think that was a sign of an impending orgasm...but not at present. Maybe, I thought, maybe if I was a very good girl, Miss Tanya would let me cum again some day soon. And then I had another happy thought. By the time she got her degree -- a year and a half? -- I'd have lived through enough for a lot of new stories.... Perhaps even a book.