Sue could feel soft heat and see a red glow though her eyelids. She could imagine the sound of waves as if waking up on the beach, completely at peace and satisfied. After a while the stark silence of the side room drew her from her bliss, she started to remember her situation and slowly opened her eyes. The radiant heat spread over her evenly from the suspended heater. Sue immediately wondered how long she had been laying there and her usual media inspired fears of sunburn and skin damage flashed through her thoughts, the thing probably emitted UV. She thought she turned it off, but was starting to doubt everything after her ordeal. Regardless, she was glad it was on now and the low setting felt just right. The rest of her body started to awake up as well. She gradually felt the total penetration and relentless stretch of the overly large phallus return to her awareness. The cradling of the chair was still reassuring somehow. The solid stone matched her shape like an embrace. She thought she could just lay there forever basking in the satisfaction and warmth, snuggling with circumstances.
As other parts of her body continued to report into her awareness, she remembered the gag, the helplessness of her position and the unavoidable contractions of her vaginal walls fighting the metallic invader. Her sense of self-preservation started to return, and she knew she needed to find a way out of her predicament. She doubted she could take another session like the last one should the chair start up again. She fought down a brief flash of panic and ignored the lingering doubt that she hold herself together much longer. Now that she wasn't getting her brains fucked out, she could think clearly and explore her options so slowly started to feel around for a way to escape. There had to be something she missed. She would have been tempted to scream for help, despite the embarrassment of being found in her condition, if it were possible, but the numbing effect of the gag had completely silenced her vocal chords. The gag definitely left a strongly medicinal, almost herbal, aftertaste throughout her mouth that reminded her of a cough remedy.
To her surprise, she found that the arms of the chair were back in an upright position somehow; she also could feel the crate under her feet again. She checked again out disbelief. Yes, the wood was there. How was it possible? The door was locked. She didn't care right now. In relief, she leaned back as she let one last flush of contentment roll over her only for it to be interrupted by another involuntary contraction between her legs. With a slow, difficult push up she cleared the phallus and slowly stood up on the crate, her arms trembling with exertion. The relief from the relentless stretch was intense, and her vaginal walls slowly returning to normal was semi-orgasmic all by itself, but she couldn't enjoy the feeling. She was suddenly fighting for breath and struggling to keep her balance. It was almost impossible to breathe around the gag ball and breathing through her nose was just not enough. After a couple minutes, though, she was able to steady herself in the high-heels and calm down. She didn't want to go through that again so resolved to take things slowly.
She stepped off the crate with extreme care. Without her glasses, the floor was a blur. She turned to look back at the chair as dozens of questions started to come to mind. Her scientific mind was reasserting itself, but it would have to wait. With a sense of professional detachment, she carefully walked over to the table which held her keys and methodically worked through them one at a time to unlock the gag.
Jaw aches promised to get worse even with the numbness caused by mysterious Nuymean rubber gag. At the same time, the cold air of the museum climate control was quickly draining the warmth from her naked body. The result created an immediate sense of urgency which promised future desperation. With fumbling fingers, she still could not find the last key to the all important strap at the back of her head. She had to have tried every key at least twice. Then, with a calmness she would not have thought possible, she remembered the other keys back in her office. She must have missed one when putting together her key ring.
Without options, she simply moved on to getting dressed and pulled her clingy polyester undershirt on, leaving her bra aside. Modesty, covering her nipples, and pushing what little she had into position wasn't a priority right now. Next was the sweater and warmth. She couldn't remember the last time her nipples were hard enough to poke up so obscenely.
She drifted back to thinking warmly about the chair and let her hands stray to her crotch absent-mindedly, accompanied by some familiar and well-practiced fondling. Apparently there was no damage, but there was definitely some soreness.
The expected worry about getting caught while gagged and the guilt of putting herself in such danger for sake of her own lust didn't seem so important right now. For a moment during the ordeal, a moment long enough for a lifetime, she felt like she might die on the chair hanging naked on her stuffed sex. A complete acceptance and submission to her potential fate burnt through her. Any feelings of self doubt and direction were gone, insignificant compared to what could have happened.
A complete wave of blissful well-being washed over her leaving behind a lingering sense of satisfaction that was beyond description; but, nevertheless, penetrated her mind as much as any man could ever penetrate her sex. She couldn't help but feel that something more significant than sexual possession had happened to her. The constant noise of background stress in her life was simply gone. Her worries about appearance, finding dates, rationalizing her life to her family and friends, the mess in her apartment and even the troubles with her landlord seemed to fade to trivial silliness. Even thoughts that she was almost trapped on the chair seemed inconsequential. She knew that there was something else to this feeling beyond the physical experience so yet more questions went onto her mental list. It was more than a feeling of coming down from a high. Instead, it was more like a feeling of being cured of something. Her problems had somehow been fucked out of her.
She returned to reality when the realization that she was standing comfortably in the high heels struck. Clearly something had changed. They seemed to fit perfectly like she had been wearing them for years. How did the arms on the chair retract and return? Her scientific mind cried out in outrage at the lack of explanation. A crust of her own juices and dried lube, baked on by the heater, was an embarrassing reminder of her animal abandon on the chair. How so much had come out of her made her feel like a complete slut. Still, the unexplained nagged more than any thoughts of embarrassment. She started to look at the chair with the full mental focus of a scientist seeing a new revelation. Aside from the personal experience, she had a whole new set of discoveries to explore.Priority and focus.
She reached down to pull off the heels so that she could put on her jeans, balancing like a flamingo. Even with a good tug, the left one didn't budge. She reset her balance and tried again, but didn't even feel the slightest slip of the shoe on her foot. Getting worried, she urgently sat down on the folding chair beside the desk ignoring the cold vinyl against her naked skin. Lifting her right foot, she stared in disbelief. The ankle strap was on. The flat metal ends were completely gone and the woven metal looked like one continuous smooth strap of golden lusterite. She could not feel any catch or release. Her mind raced. How had they closed? How would she get them off?
Her sense of detachment was vanishing rapidly to be replaced by a frantic urge. She pulled fruitlessly at the shoe again and again. Of course, the other one was exactly the same way. She doubled her frustration trying to pull it free, regardless. She was completely overtaken by a feeling of shocked disbelief which slowly faded to a sinking despair. She fought once again to get her breathing under control. The frustration of effort at pulling somehow aroused her which made her even more frustrated. She clenched her fists then tried to scream in frustration with no affect whatsoever.
She pulled her panties up over the shoes with no problem, but her jeans simply could not fit. She gave up in aggravation and again attempted to scream fruitlessly. The shoes had her beat. The legs of her jeans could not clear the heels. She thought about cutting them off to make shorts, but there was nothing sharp enough in the side room. She would have been heartbroken to ruin her favorite jeans anyway, but now had no way to cover herself. She was even more upset when she noticed how horny the frustration had made her. It was humiliating. She felt like her body was betraying her.
She wished that she hadn't indulged in her own little secret at the mall when she bought the panties. She had felt sexy and flirtatious at the time. The bold floral print of pinks and reds with kisses against the bright white silky fabric seemed to almost glow in the dark against her drab sweater--nothing quite like unnatural fluorescent lighting.
There was nothing to wipe herself off with. Anyone who saw her might see the crusty trails on her legs and follow the trail upwards to the source. The baked on lust would not be removed easily. She could feel her arousal growing with the risk of being discovered. The frustration of the shoes was still there like a nagging itch she couldn't scratch. The weight of the metal was also starting to become worrisome. The damn things were heavy! Her nipples were still hard enough to peek up again through the sweater in reminder of her lingering arousal and the aftermath of her experience. Her breath was getting heavy against the gag again. OK, calm down, relax.
The heels were a lot taller than she would normally wear--which was typically only during special occasions to begin with--and could already feel her arches straining. She would probably break her neck if she tried to run across the blurry floor. Once again she cursed her poor eyesight and wished she hadn't left her glasses in her office. She unlocked the door from the inside and cracked it enough to look down the hall. The brightly lit passage would leave nowhere to hide. The gag might draw more attention than her panties, but she had her doubts. She reminded herself to stay calm; it was the probably 4 o'clock in the morning after all.
Grabbing her jeans and bra, she folded them neatly out of habit then she started to walk, taking short steps, carefully down the hall towards her office. The cross-hatching on the bottom of the shoes was surprisingly grippy. She tried to keep the clicking from the heels to a minimum. The slightly metallic sound against the tile floor seemed to echo resoundingly as if to announce to anyone who might be around, "Look at the half naked slut who fucked herself so much that she's covered in her own sex juice."
She cursed under her breath when she found her office door locked. Finally fumbling for the right key, feeling like a whore coming home from a bad night, she gave one last look down the hall before ducking inside. She didn't think anyone saw her and locked the door behind her.
Sue pulled open the drawer with all of the spare keys and started to work, after sitting down to rest her aching feet. The relief when she finally felt the right key turn was almost as great as the relief from pulling the mouth cover off and prying out the rubber ball. She tried to work her jaw for a few minutes, but it refused to move and her tongue was completely numb. She tried to talk, but still couldn't make a sound. As feeling returned, the aches were sharp at first, but diminished to a dull sore feeling. She took half a dozen deep breaths and told herself that she wouldn't take breathing normally for granted again. The herbal numbing effect of the gag was completely unexpected, score one for participant archaeology.
Covering herself was next. She scanned the room thinking and looking for an idea. Thank all the Nuymean gods, she found her neglected gym bag. She slowly worked her black Lycra tights over the heels and up her legs, careful not to snag them. She bought them for spinning classes and thought they were a good mix of conservative coverage, function and "look at my ass, I'm advertising...but I'm not a slut." Now she was starting to have serious doubts about the slut part. Even though she was a bit chunky, she considered her legs and rear her best features. Her buns were as good as anyone else she saw at the gym even if she was battling muffin top. With the sweater pulled down onto her hips as far as it would stretch, the combination did look a little like something the thinner, fashionable women might wear. It would seem odd for her typical geek style and get looks, but it would pass for now.
She was about to head towards the side room to re-examine the chair when she caught sight of herself in the Victorian standing mirror she had borrowed from "not suitable for display" storage. She loved the lewd little cherubs carved into the dark wood frame. She might not be very attractive, but still liked to take stock before heading out. The high heels did seem to do a little something for her posture. She noticed a faint tan starting from the light and knew she was right about the UV. It didn't look half bad. She saw the flatness of her chest and immediately started to pull off her sweater and undershirt to put her bra back on. She hated the necessity, but loved the help it provided. Nothing like the Wonderbra! She would do what she could with what she had. The discomfort was secondary. Besides, it just felt unnatural for the twins to be hangin' loose.
As she started to settle her breasts into the bra cups, trying to find that compromise between presentation and comfort, she turned back to the mirror. How could she have not seen that before? In the mid-range of her chest between her neck and cleavage, centered exactly, was a black symbol. She grabbed her glasses for a closer look. It was clearly a Nuymean hieroglyph a little over two and a half inches long. It was crisp and clear like a well done tattoo. What the fuck? How is that possible? It was huge!
The mark was an intriguing combination of the Nuymean symbols for "trust" and "gods." The meaning could be either "trust in the gods" or "the trust of the gods." The Nuymean language was not precise in the meaning. Even the usage of the word "trust" was suspect and had implications of its own.
All the questions she had about the events in the room were now compounded by an order of magnitude. She felt the skin over the mark and could not detect anything abnormal except the mark itself. She rubbed at it and clearly it would not be easily removed and was in all likelihood permanent. There was not the slightest smudge. It was in the skin and not on the skin, without sign of a needle mark.
With the mark, she felt labeled somehow, but how and for what purpose? Instead of concern, the sense of peace and contentment she felt earlier seemed to have a hint of a name now. She was worth labeling like she was part of something. She knew now, without a doubt, that there was a purpose to her life. She knew the mark was something very significant. Despite a slight euphoria, Sue returned to the feeling of arousal and frustration--finally working the bra into position while balancing in the irremovable heels. Was the mark some sort of recognition? It seemed to be so, but for what?
As she kept thinking about the questions in her mind and what had happened, going over and over the details, she tried again to remove the heels as a logical action. The frustration and implications of them magnified her flush of arousal like it was lying in wait to be rekindled. She had to do something for relief. She should probably wait for the numbness in her face to fade anyways. At least she could get a weak grunting sound out now. She unlocked her special drawer--the one where she kept her well-used vibrator and little-used toy collection. She spent a lot more time at work than at home--nothing like the privacy of your own office.
Her mind kept replaying the helpless feeling of being stuck on the chair while forced to endure the relentless stimulation of the phallus. The helplessness contributed to the amazing orgasms more than she would have ever guessed before experiencing it. Score two for participant archaeology. The vibrator wand would be the opposite giving complete control over her own level stimulation. It simply didn't fill the nagging desire she was feeling. She wanted something like that helpless feeling again. She needed more...adventure.
She dug through the drawer and found the packaged silicone squid. Her friend Steph had given it to her for her birthday, mostly as a joke--or so she thought. She was always going on about how single women need to address their needs and how sexual desires were a natural part of being a woman. Sue hadn't taken her all that seriously. Now she was changing her tune. The box said it was a Streetwalker Squid Stimulator Deluxe with Partner Play
. She read the description and realized it was a serious sex toy and not a gag gift. Steph had really meant it.
The squid had a remote control and long life lithium batteries. Small "tentacles" hung down from a tapered oblong head. On the outside edge were the largest tentacles. They had small suction cup-like nubs that looked like they could grip the vaginal walls. On the inside, several shorter fine tentacles hung down longer, maybe for decoration. In the middle, up under the tentacles was a mounting lug that matched a long insertion rod.
The quick reference picture on the back showed inserting the squid using the rod and then pulling out the release knob at the opposite end. Afterwards, a different tool shaped more like surgical tongs was used to grip the lug. It would grab the lug and then a rod could be slid upwards to re-engage the squid so that it could be pulled out. It seemed pretty elaborate, but had a gynecological instrument-like quality to it that left her believing it was well thought out. The box guaranteed that if used properly the squid would never slip out even if jogging or swimming. The remote had a complex variety of settings with some kind of microprocessor control.
She had a sudden whim to insert the squid while going back down to the side room to investigate what happened. It wasn't much more than a fancy bullet vibrator with an electronic control by the looks of it. She could leave the remote control in her office so wouldn't be able to stop the stimulation. The whole idea of being a bit out-of-control pushed her over the edge and instantly she started to rip open the plastic wrap on the outside of the box. She tossed aside the usual booklet of warnings, disclaimers and instructions in 16 languages. She always got a smirk out of the requisite for novelty use only
markings--lawyers, bastards. Probably quite a few had one of these too.
She pulled down her gym tights and panties then squeezed the enclosed sample lube package over the soft silicone of the squid. She was already turned on and probably didn't need it, but thought better safe than sorry. The pink silicone had a fleshy texture that made it seem remotely life-like. The sample lube was really thick compared to normal and clung to the squid well. She spread her nether lips to keep as much lube as possible on the squid as she slid it into her entrance.
Sue steadily pushed the rod upwards until she found what seemed like a natural position deep inside, just short of her cervix. She knew this position would spread the vibration all through her sex and give her a slow building effect. She found it hard to come without stimulation on her clit, but she knew that a purely vaginal orgasm would be powerful and strong when it finally did hit. She inserted the sample lube packet next to the insertion rod and squeezed the last of the lube in behind the squid before releasing her labia to help hold it all in.
She walked around and could feel the presence of the squid, but it was comfortable. Happy with the positioning, she pulled the release knob on the insertion rod and let out a gasp. The large tentacles on the outside of the squid expanded and pushed into her love tunnel. Now she felt invaded. It was still comfortable, but definitely knew she had something up her cunt. She wasn't sure if she liked the sensation.
She resisted the urge to use her fingers on her swollen clit, wanting to have the full effect of lack of control. She moved around and nothing slipped. The squid seemed to be firmly in place. She flushed when she thought about how she now contained something that could turn on and off by itself whenever it
felt like it.
The remote had several initial settings; everything electronic had all kinds of options these days.
She didn't worry about the selections, just leaving most on default what seemed interesting. Stimulation mode, random. Stimulation min level, tease. Stimulation max level, extreme. Adherence, on. Duration, until disabled at remote. Interval, 30 to 90 minutes. Security mode, full. Partner play, active.
She could still run back to her office if it got to be too much. All she could think about was getting that feeling of adventure back again. She hit the "I agree" followed by the "Submit" button, rearranged her clothes, then opened the door and headed into the hall, leaving the controller and the removal tongs in her desk drawer so that she would not be in control. As soon as she looked down the hall, she felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Now, with her glasses, she could clearly see the lens of the forgotten security camera. Charlie the night guard could have seen her semi-naked walk down the hall. Worse, she realized that the cameras would be linked to recorders.
The usual day guard, Bill, would be merciless if he found out. They had a bit of a history after some dating that didn't go well. It had all happened fast. She didn't think she led him on, but he sure thought he was entitled to something and couldn't keep his hands off her. He just laughed in her face and told her that a nerd with her looks better take what she can get. She had pushed away and ran off trying not to cry. He was always trying to embarrass and tease her ever since. He seemed to have some kind of spiteful agenda and resentment for highly educated people on top of it. Pictures would likely be on the internet in no time if he got the recording.
She glanced back into her office and checked her desk clock before closing the door. The sinking feeling turned to panic when she saw that it was 6:30AM. Charlie's shift was until 7 o'clock. The museum opened at 8AM. She didn't have much time so went straight up the hall with the limitations of the heels once again reminding her of how far out of hand things had become. She stumbled every once in awhile, but ignored it and kept pushing onwards. Between the added weight of the shoes and the shortened strides, her legs were getting a good workout. Damn, these heels are heavy!
She usually took the stairs, but couldn't think about trying them right now. Instead, she walked the endless hallway to the freight elevator. Halfway down the hall, a warming sensation grew inside her. It felt chemical. The sample lube must be one of those "warming" lubes. She could remember various ads now about enhancing female sensitivity and improving sexual response with some products. Fuck.
The last thing she needed was a fire burning inside her right now.
She pushed the button and waited. The elevator took forever. The sensation was really heating up now to a definite burning. She wanted to dance around or grab her crotch, but knew that once again there was a camera right above her. The elevators are carefully watched and bristling with cameras from different angles. She bit her lip some; it helped.
She found Charlie sitting at the desk reading a magazine. She walked over carefully trying not to draw attention to the difficult heels. She quickly wiped some sweat from her brow using her sleeve. He didn't even look up. "Hello Dr. Sue."
"Hi Charlie, anyone here tonight but us? I thought I heard some strange noises earlier."
Her voice was a bit soft and scratchy, still not fully recovered.
"Just us, I don't think you'll have any problems," he said matter of factly.
"Excuse me? I'm not sure what you mean."
Could he possibly be referring to what she thought?
He put down the magazine and moved towards the monitors on the desk. She was surprised to see it was a copy of Alien Watch
. That was the rag which kept reporting all the speculations about Nuymeans and alien origins. Within moments, she saw herself on the monitor. He clicked on the mouse a few times and then she saw the front crotch of her panties on the screen at full zoom as she walked the basement hall. Her jaw dropped and so did the pit of her stomach.
Charlie spoke first, "I'm just glad you're starting to show some professional dedication. A failed experiment can be expected here and there. It's the persistence that matters the most in the end."
He zoomed back out and she could see herself fumbling with the office key. He continued, "It's an old system, but was state of the art at the time. The cameras are triggered by motion sensors. Any activity is recorded."
"Tapes?" she said meekly.
"Of course, everything is recorded and logged. The museum is full of priceless objects."
"Oh," she said with a defeated sigh.
"There is a flaw with the system though. If the motion sensors don't detect anything, then there is nothing to record."
Charlie rewound back to her walking down the hall and paused on her again, this time a close-up of her ass. He seemed to be experimenting with the angle, zoom and resolution.
The warmth in her cleft felt like it was spreading across her body along with the nervous tension that was starting to erupt. She felt a few fresh drops of sweat bead on her forehead. The thought that she was exposed was both terrifying and arousing at the same time even if the voyeur was some 80+ year old security guard. She had never felt anything like it before.
"I don't want to see you get into any kind of trouble, but I can't have this kind of thing in my museum. You need to be more careful. If you call me and let me know you need some privacy, I can make the appropriate arrangements. You were lucky this time, but I need to make sure you understand you did something wrong. It might not be so easy next time. I raised three daughters and know that it takes some kind of punishment to make sure the lesson is learned."
She was a little shocked at his fatherly tone, my
museum. There was more than meets the eye here. She knew he was on the board of trustees and had worked here since before she was born. Maybe there was even more yet.
Charlie handed her a large manila envelope and looked her straight in the eyes. "Put your panties in here. There is a ladies' room around the corner. I want you to remember what it's like to be exposed."
Disbelief shook her deeply. Her thoughts raced. Was he a pervert? Was he just trying to humiliate her? Would he do something with the panties that she'd regret later?
Just then the revolving door started to spin and the museum director came through with his cell phone at his ear.
"Dr. Sue, thank God you're here. I've been trying to call you for an hour."
He had a really annoyed look with perhaps a touch of contempt.
"Your intern...Cindy...had a car accident and can't conduct the tours today. I have over 150 students on buses headed here now. I need for you to handle the Nuymean part of the tour. We've split them into five groups."
Shock hit like a sledge hammer. Losing her panties was one thing. Trouble with the Director was another. Even more to the point, the squid within her started to slowly vibrate. She held down a gasp and took a couple deep breaths as discretely as possible. Her voice was still a little off, but he didn't seem to notice.
"I'd be happy to step in, but I need some time to get ready."
"Nonsense, you look just fine. In fact, I'm glad you are starting to wear something more professional--even if a bit...modern...instead of just dungarees all the time."
She thought she might fall right over and it wasn't just the heels. Dungarees? Really? Just groovy
was her first thought. Suddenly she realized that Charlie had the video on pause showing her standing outside her office in her underwear and fought down panic. The squid started to speed up like some kind of demonic curse was trying to make her nightmares come true. She would probably have nightmares of coming in public now.
The Director started to walk past without waiting for a response. "I need you upstairs in 15 minutes and don't forget you're still on probation. I'm not particularly impressed so far, you need to show more professional dedication." He looked at her and didn't seem to notice the video screen at the guard desk.
She was going to bring up how she was up all night already, but that was out of the question. "Don't worry, I should have some new evidence and should have a paper ready for publication soon."
He continued down the hall and talked back over his shoulder. "Glad to hear it, but I'll be blunt. You need to get that publication done or there is no justification to keep you on staff."
She wanted to feel completely enraged, but knew he was right. The heat and the squid was all she could dwell on at the moment anyways.
Charlie held out the envelope with a stern look. She snatched it out of his hand and gave him her best acid stare in return, but saw no reaction at all. She headed to the ladies' room. She didn't know how to stop the burning or remove the thick gel so she pressed onwards. It actually seemed to plug her up with its thickness and she realized that was probably a good thing.
She dampened some paper towels and went to the back stall. By the time she cleaned off her legs and worked the tights down to get the panties off, she was running short on time. The squid was still going, but not getting any worse. It would drive her up and then back down. She realized it must be in "tease" mode. Still, it was driving her mad a bit and she didn't want to be walking a tour group around while panting.
She stuck a finger up inside trying to hook the lug with her fingernail. She had to get this thing out of her and fast. She couldn't quite reach far enough, but kept trying. As soon as she got close her finger brushed one of the thinner inner tentacles. Immediately an electric shock stabbed her sensitive regions. She yelped in pain and surprise. Maybe it was some kind of shorted connection? She tried again and the shock was even more intense. She wouldn't be doing that again. It was obviously something deliberate. The smaller tentacles must be some sort of sensors to guard from reaching the lug. She would need to get back to her office to check the instruction manual and use the tongs to pull the damned thing out. The shock dampened her arousal some. She refocused and quickly worked her black Lycra tights back up.
She felt almost naked with just the tights and no underwear as she walked back to Charlie at the main desk. It seemed like there was a breeze right between her legs now. She knew it was mostly her imagination, but it mattered little in how she really felt. He took the envelope, glanced inside and gave her a nod. He never looked up to see her angry glare. Bill the daytime watchman was here now and she didn't want to do anything that might be noticed. Charlie showed her another envelope which appeared to contain the tape. "I'll slip it under your office door."
"Thanks," she said reflectively. Then it occurred to her.
"Charlie, I have a quick question."
"What can I help you with?"
"Is there anyone else who has the key to the basement storage room in my section, 45B? It seems like someone else could have been in there and I wanted to make sure my experiments are not disturbed."
He went over to the desk and pulled out a file. Within a couple minutes, he paused with his finger on the paper.
"No record of any other keys."
She wasn't surprised, but knew she needed to check. Someone else with a key was the most logical explanation for the crate and heater.
Sue turned and headed down the hall to the Nuymean exhibit almost tripping before she remembered the heels. Just their weight forced a sway of her hips. Walking in the heels seemed to fuel the relentless teasing of the squid--at least it took her mind off her aching arches. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bill look up from the monitors then he looked back down and reached for the controller mouse. She knew exactly where he was zooming.
She didn't really care if Bill got some cheap thrills. She was too busy trying to concentrate. She was starting to get into the feeling and was swaying her hips even more purposefully when the vibrations simply stopped.
She wanted to reach into her tights to finish the deal, but knew the Bill could be watching her every move. After seeing the zoom feature, she knew that he could see every little detail. He would probably appreciate her lack of panty lines. The heat of the lube was strong, but she seemed to be getting used to it a little. It didn't seem to be getting any worse now.
She arrived to find the typical assortment of high school kids pouring into the exhibit. At that point, she went into autopilot and started to give the typical lecture and show. The whole thing was rather mechanical after that as she did the second, third and then fourth group mostly on autopilot. The fifth group and last group arrived as she was in full stride. The lack of practice was of no longer any consequence.
As she approached the glass case full of phalluses, she could feel a slow and steady vibration start up. The movement seemed to stir up the hot lube as well. Her body responded rapidly and informed her brain that it had been waiting for something to happen all along so was more than ready. She paused and leaned back on the case involuntarily. Suddenly she felt the disinterested students notice and shift every eye in the room to actually focus and pay attention to her.
In a moment of inspiration, she put her finger up to her nose like she had a really big sneeze coming. It worked almost immediately and the students went back about their various distractions. She milked it for few seconds while she regained her composure. She had 8 minutes left before they were done and she could send them to the next station.
The vibrations seemed to get stronger and faster than before. It must not be on tease mode this time. She was finding it difficult to stand still. It was obvious to her that she was walking quickly like she was hurrying the presentation, but the students didn't seem to notice. She had to force herself to slow down since she was starting to get out of breath a little.
At last she finished the rehearsed script and asked if there were any questions. She got the usual blank stares. Giving them a few minutes to look around on their own, she slipped off behind the high priestess mannequin, panting noticeably. The heat in her love tunnel was unbelievable. Her whole body seemed to be heating up. She could feel a cold sweat all over and felt a little light-headed like she ate one of those insanely strong peppers at the Chinese restaurant. One of the students came over and asked her if she was alright. She simply said that she thought she might be getting a cold. He seemed satisfied and a little concerned about getting too close so beat a hasty retreat.
Finally, they started to file out of the room with the typical chatter from seeing something to talk about later. They would be inventing a whole new set of sex toy jokes--new to them at least. With the last one through the doorway, Sue went behind the counter of phalluses and lay down on the floor out of sight of the cameras and patrons. Face down, she put her fist under her, over her clit, and started to grind her hips shamelessly against her fist on the floor. She realized that anyone who did look over the counter would see a lewd view of her Lycra covered ass thrusting up and down. With the headstart, she was already feeling the crescendo nearing its peak. The vibrations seemed to just keep growing in intensity while she had a huge body shaking orgasm.
When the orgasm faded, Sue was ready to get up and head back to her office, but the squid had different ideas. It kept going mercilessly. She wasn't sensitive after orgasm, but every slight move brought a tingle that was almost painful. She couldn't stand the idea of getting up. She lay behind the counter waiting to be released from the overstimulation.
Within a couple minutes, she was completely drenched in sweat and panting again. The squid was buzzing furiously, but fortunately was rather quiet. She felt her body giving in and begging her mind to go on the same ride. Once again she was grinding against her fist on the verge. She kept pushing harder and harder for more pressure. She needed more than just some friendly fingers. She wanted to feel it down inside where the squid vibrated. She had to work almost twice as long to push herself over the edge, but the final result was worth it. Her second orgasm was almost as strong and much longer than the first.
The vibrations continued relentlessly with no regards to her climax. It felt like the tentacles were wiggling around inside. The tingle was less this time. Instead, it was starting to get a little painful. She steeled her will and felt like she could get some composure. Now that her body had been spent so much the sensations were easier to ignore, her will power was stronger. Gritting her teeth in effort, she stood up carefully in the heels and straightened out her clothes. She put a little show of having checked something behind the counter for the cameras. She wiped her brow as best as she could and headed to the elevator.
Sue walked carefully. The high heels forced her hips to sway enough that the vibrations deep inside her seemed to move around. The end effect changed with each step from slightly painful back to thrilling. She walked slowly and steadily; her body seemed to be unable to react any other way. When she smiled at the museum patrons, they seemed to think something was odd, but didn't dwell on her long. She was just another odd person among the oddities they had already seen in the museum.
The final walk across the lobby to the elevator, passed Bill at his guard desk, was the hardest of all. With the tights and a wide lobby, she knew he would be watching every wiggle of her ass. She had never worn anything so revealing around him before. The old marble and glass art deco was drafty in the winter. The cooler air of the lobby was coupling with her arousal to harden her nipples instantly. The air flowing around the tights created a naked and exposed sensation. She knew it wasn't true, but her body did not. The hot lube continued its ever-present warming and was enough to push her across some kind of inner threshold. Her face start to flush in response.
She could see Bill trying to look discretely, wanting a direct view, but it wasn't working. He was in full blown stare mode without any pretense of politeness, while she just kept walking like nothing was wrong. Fortunately, one of the patrons started asking him questions. By the time they were done, Sue was about to get into the elevator. Once inside and with the door closed, she panted several times for multiple reasons. Her hands trembled as she inserted her access key for the basement level.
As soon as the elevator started to go down, the orgasm hit her suddenly. She gripped the railing with white knuckles. The door opened, but she didn't move at first. She snapped back to reality when it started to close. She quickly put her hand in the way to stop the door from closing again and continued. She didn't notice the vibration anymore. Perhaps it finally stopped?
The hall to her office felt endless. The vibrator started to play her again part way down the hall. She was surprised by how soon. Maybe this was just a pause in the original routine? It would drive her up to the brink and then back off? She started to wonder just how sophisticated the microprocessor and programming of the squid might be. She walked near the wall to steady herself. She stopped when needed. Eventually she got her office door open. An envelope with the security tape was inside.
The relief that she was safe from video humiliation was distant as she stepped over the tape and closed the door. She almost tore her tights off. She pulled open her special drawer and found the remote control and the tong extractor. The vibrator was more torment than stimulation at this point. She grabbed the removal tongs and started fishing.
She felt for the lug and tried to match her position with the picture in the instructions. As soon as she touched a tentacle, she felt another even stronger electric shock rip through her. It seemed to go on and on. She writhed in pain uncontrollably, unsure whether to clench her legs or spread them out wide in a vain effort to reduce the pain. Blackness was closing in from the sides of her vision as she felt the first moments of passing out. Cold sweat was forming on her brow. It stopped just in time. She heard a beep from the remote.
On the display, the remote said, "Initial calibration complete", that was probably from earlier, followed by "3 security violations detected entering lockdown mode." What the fuck? What did that mean?
The vibrator kept going as she snatched the instructions. She found the section on security.To accommodate specific domination games, adherence mode must be turned off at the remote to remove the stimulator. If security mode is also set, the access code must be entered on the remote to operate it. Security mode can be enabled to give the wearer a loss of control even if the remote is not retained by the dominant partner.If adherence mode is on, guardian tentacles will detect any attempt to remove the stimulation squid. If 3 tampering violations have been detected, lockdown mode will be activated. In lockdown mode, increasing security shocks will prevent removal of the squid stimulator (see caution regarding electrical burns). The remote cannot override lockdown mode. Lockdown will reset in 4 hours. During lockdown, tease simulation mode will be disabled and the interval between stimulation sessions will be reduced to 10 minutes.
Sue dropped the instructions and fell back into the recliner with a gasp of frustration while she convulsed with the next of what promised to be many sweetly painful forced orgasms.