Message-ID: <7663eli$9804061801@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: suthrnlrd@hotmail.com (Suthrnlrd) Subject: STORY: "Insomnia" (F, experiment, n/c orgasms) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.stories.erotic Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: suthrnlrd@hotmail.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Original-Message-ID: <35292b88.2043783@news.mindspring.com> ---------standard disclaimer---------- This is a work of erotic fiction. If you're too young to legally read this, or if you think you might be offended if you read it, don't. This story is copyright 1998 by SuthrnLrd. You can use it any way you want for your own personal enjoyment, but if you rip off my work and try to pass it off as your own, then you suck. -----end of standard disclaimer------ INSOMNIA (F, experiment, n/c orgasms) by SuthrnLrd Karen Anderson lay back into her bed and tried to relax. Her insomnia had gotten worse in the past weeks. None of the medications her doctor prescribed helped her at all, and worrying about it certainly didn't make sleep come any faster. She was becoming frantic, rolling in the sheets and occasionally pounding her fists into the pillow. "Damn, damn, damn! Oh, why?" She bit her lip as the tears welled up. If she didn't get help soon, she would go mad. Karen threw the covers off her naked body. She lay there in anger and frustration for a few minutes, rubbing her temples gently, trying to relax herself. Finally, she gave into the certainty that this would be yet another sleepless night, that she would have to drag herself into work tomorrow with dark circles under her eyes and several gallons of hot coffee in her belly. Hopping quickly out of bed, she turned on the bedside lamp, grabbed the magazine she had thrown to the floor earlier, and sat down to read. It was one of those local city magazines designed to impress visitors with how wonderful Atlanta was, but ended up being little more than a brazen and aggressive collection of advertisements. Still, the articles were bland enough to wrap her frazzled wits around and distract her from her torment. After hacking through a frightfully boring interview with the chef of a local restaurant and a somewhat interesting overview of the local music scene, she idly flipped through the remainder of the magazine. When she got to the end, she stopped. She pursed her lips and began turning pages back the other way. Something had caught her eye, something very interesting, maybe even important, only she'd been so distracted by fatigue that it had shot right past her conscious mind and was now nagging at her gently. And there it was. A quarter-page ad sandwiched at the end of a story about a local sports icon. "Sleep Disorder Study," she murmured. "Looking for volunteers to participate in an experimental treatment of sleep disorders." Karen read and then re-read the ad. A Dr. David Greene was running the study at a local university, and it gave a phone number to call for more information. "What the hell," she thought. A university program would probably be legitimate, and at this stage, she'd try anything. She called the number the next day during her lunch break and spoke with a very friendly woman named Lisa, who gave her all the details. Karen would report to the psychology department of the university at nine o'clock that night, and spend an hour filling out paperwork and taking some routine tests. Lisa assured her that her privacy would be respected, and that all personal information would be kept confidential. By the time Karen hung up the phone, she was so eager to participate that she could hardly concentrate on her work for the rest of the day. Lisa was just as nice in person as she had been over the phone, and guided Karen through the paperwork quickly and efficiently. There wasn't that much of it, really, just some standard release forms and medical history questionnaires. When she finished with that, Lisa ran a battery of medical tests on her, including a stress test. "Okay, we're done here, Ms. Anderson," said Lisa. She handed Karen a small black duffel bag with the University logo emblazoned on the side. "If you'll please change into these clothes, we can begin. Dr. Greene will be here shortly." "Um, where do I change?" asked Karen. Lisa smiled. "There's a bathroom just down the hallway to your left. And when you put on the undergarments, be sure to connect the two red wires together, and drape the green wire over the neck of the nightgown, okay?" "Sure, no problem," said Karen, wondering what the hell she was getting into. She left the office and made her way down the hall. Inside the bathroom, she opened the black bag, removed the contents, and set them on the sink counter. She was a little disturbed by the outfit. A bra and a pair of panties with electrodes embedded in them and plastic-coated wires dangling from the surface lay next to a plain cotton nightgown. Was she going to have to wear that all night? She'd never be able to sleep with all that stuff on her, but then again, she wasn't sleeping anyway. A little discomfort was a small price to pay if they could combat her insomnia. Karen stripped off her clothes and began putting on the outfit they provided her. It wasn't until she had the electrode-covered panties halfway up her legs that she noticed a small nodule on the inside of the fabric. What the hell was this? She ran her fingers over it, realizing that it was fixed to the panties in the exact place where her pussy would be. Surely they didn't need to measure that! She thought about putting her clothes back on and leaving. But if she didn't start getting regular sleep soon, she wouldn't be able to function at all. So she slid the panties into place, feeling the little bump press against her, opening her lips slightly. It didn't feel too invasive, and she guessed she could live with it. After that, it was nothing at all to put on the bra, though the cold metal contacts caused her nipples to harden. Two wires, one red and one green, hung down from the center of the bra, and sure enough, there was a complimentary red wire fixed to the front of her panties. They fit together easily. She put on the nightgown, making sure the green wire stuck out of the neck. She gathered her things and walked back to the office, feeling more than a little silly. Dr. Greene was waiting for her. He was a tall and unremarkable looking man in his mid-thirties, with round, thick glasses and a great deal of self-confidence. "Ah, Ms. Anderson," he said, a smile tugging at his lips, "ready to toss and turn for us?" Karen nodded and followed Dr. Greene as he led her to the sleeping room. As she walked, she felt the friction from the little nodule pressing up against her pussy. To her embarrassment, her body awoke to the stimulation. She tried to keep her face passive and not let her arousal show. It wasn't easy. Once Karen was in bed, Dr. Greene attached what looked like a shower cap covered in electrodes to her head. "This is so we can measure your brain activity during the night," he said in an infuriatingly clinical voice. He took the green wire that stuck out from underneath her nightgown and attached it to a green wire on the shower cap. "Are you comfortable?" She wanted to say something sarcastic, like "oh, sure, I always sleep better when I look like I just stepped out of an H. R. Geiger drawing," but she just smiled and said, "yes, Dr. Greene." "We're going to be monitoring you from the next room." He pointed to a full-length mirror that Karen deduced was two-way before he said "we'll observe you from behind this mirror." With that, he turned out the lights and left her. Karen shifted, trying to make herself comfortable in the high-tech nightie. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the gentle pastoral scene that used to put her to sleep so easily before the insomnia set in. A gentle stream appeared to her, wending its way through a bright, warm, cheerful forest. Karen managed to relax a little. But the gentle stream quickly became a loud, raging torrent, and huge ugly blue gnomes rampaged through the forest, chopping down trees with blood-stained axes. Karen opened her eyes and sighed, shaking the vision from her mind. She'd never get any sleep with such disturbing images at work. Was it just her imagination, or could she actually feel the electrodes doing something to her? It felt like they were unnaturally warm. Weren't they supposed to just register and record what her body did? Surely there wouldn't be enough current passing through them for her to notice. But the longer she lay there, the more certain she became that the electrodes were doing something to her. They were getting warm. Warm and faintly tingling. A brief wave of alarm passed through her. What if the electrodes were malfunctioning? Was she in any kind of danger? Could she be electrocuted? But it didn't feel like she was being shocked. It didn't feel unpleasant at all. It felt more--well, it felt rather good, actually. It felt like the gentlest of massages, administered by the gentlest of hands. She closed her eyes, feeling her nipples harden again. She took several deep breaths as the warmth spread its way through her body. She moaned as she felt the little nodule between her legs heat up. Thoughts of safety slowly leeched out of her body as these new sensations took their place. A wave of arousal pushed through her, and the stimulations took on a keener edge. Karen's pussy was throbbing now, her legs trembling and her hands unable to hold still. She ran them through her hair and bit her lip as the wave built. It now felt like someone was gently thrusting a finger into her, slowly, while rubbing light, tiny circles around her clit. Her nipples were being licked by invisible tongues, and occasionally pinched, sending jolts of erotic electricity directly to her pussy. "God...oh, god..." An image of Dr. Greene came to her, and a tiny, logical voice in the back of her mind told her that he was responsible for this, that this was the experimental treatment, that he must be some kind of colossal pervert to recruit women for this study, and that he and his assistant were in the next room watching her writhe in heat, no doubt enjoying the show a great deal. "Shut up," she told the voice. Her hips were rising off the mattress, her pussy on fire, her breath starting to come in little gasps. She was close to the edge now, very close. The invisible finger in her pussy was now thrusting very fast, and the one on her clit was rubbing hard, and her nipples were being sucked and pinched and sucked again, only she was alone, no one was touching her, but her body cried out and swore to her that she had at least fifteen people between her legs, she just couldn't see them, and her breathing was quick and sharp and punctuated by moans and mewling and oh! Karen came hard, her hips pumping wildly at the empty air, screaming in a high-pitched, frantic voice, as wave after wave of orgasm racked her body. Her arms danced at her sides, fists clenching and unclenching, every part of her body hot and shaking and delirious. When one orgasm subsided, the electrodes would relentlessly push her into another one--four, five, six--she lost count. She could only writhe, her heart pounding, as she hung on for dear life. "Ms. Anderson? Ms. Anderson?" Karen's eyes fluttered open. She looked up and saw a young woman standing beside her. It took her brain a few moments to sort everything out and tell her where she was. "Lisa." "Yes, Ms. Anderson," said Lisa with a big smile. "This is your wake-up call. How do you feel?" "Wake-up call? What time is it?" "Seven-thirty, Ms. Anderson." "Seven-thirty?" She had slept the entire night. Not a single episode of insomnia. She couldn't even remember dreaming. "So," said Lisa as Karen got out of bed. "Do you think you'll continue with the study?" Karen looked at herself in the mirror. Already the black circles under her eyes were mere light shadows, worn away by a good night's sleep. "Yes," said Karen, smiling at her reflection. ----------------- SuthrnLrd http://members.tripod.com/~SuthrnLrd/ suthrnlrd@hotmail.com -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |