Write until your fingers bleed the words @gaybybirth - Tumblr Blog

Aug 11

participation credit - explicit nsfw

Research Team (fem!Leader) x fem!Reader

part two & pt three // Kinktober '25 Schedule // More Kinktober // Masterlist 2.0

Synopsis: When you take $10,000.00 to be the sole successful participant in a rather unique study, the money offered continues to grow when they want to run more and more invasive tests. What’d started as some basic stimulation tests between magically linked sex toys to you quickly escalates into so, so much more.

Warnings: POV switches a bit, explicit nsfw content–porn no plot AT ALL; consensual sexual tests run on the reader, magic sex toys (think portal pussy but with every hole), research/medical/scientific kink, monetary payment offered but it’s all consensual, it’s for genuine research (mostly); sex toys used (anal plug, anal beads, various dildos and vibrators), reader is blindfolded, earplugs & noise-canceling headphones used for a bit, restraints used & the reader is held down at one point, clit stim, nipple stim, nipple clamps (vibrating and normal), fingering (vaginal and anal), slight edging/orgasm denial, oral (reader receiving, reader deepthroating a dildo, and fem!researchers receiving), anal and vaginal sex via the sex toys, protected anal and vaginal sex (with the reader), (anal and vaginal sex with the linked toys and the reader at the same time), multiple orgasms, overstim but different, squirting, and mentions of aftercare // if i missed anything that should be tagged, please let me know!

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Idk it’s Kinktober and I’m ovulating. Here’s an extra nonsense story <3 I woke up today running on very little sleep, not intending to write this, and it was edited right after writing, so I apologize in advance for any missed errors (I'm sorry)!

**** indicates a sort of POV switch

It was a brand new, extremely experimental, highly sensitive project. The kind you certainly didn’t write home about, and the kind that definitely found its way into your consideration for the promised cash payment. All you had to do post-signing-up was show up, let them say a spell or two, and then you’d simply say yes or no if you could feel each test they administered.

So you sat in the cold, white research room while over half a dozen of those working on the project milled about. You knew what the project was for. Knew exactly what the $10,000.00 cash tucked into the envelope in your purse was for. But it was just a few tests. Easy, fully clothed, verbal confirmation tests.

They rolled the sterilized metal table to face you more, the objects neatly aligned on their stands. The spells they'd said were distant words you couldn't recall, but you'd already nodded when they'd asked if you could feel the tingling connection when they'd finished. You could–it was a warm hum underneath your clothing that already had a bit of sweat forming at your brow. But that could've also been the anticipation.

The silicone facing you was highly detailed. Granted, for what they were, toys had already gotten far in looking real. They were soft and giving, and they replicated what they generically needed to replicate. Breasts, nipples, vagina, clit, an asshole, and a mouth. Still, you swallowed hard listening to the murmured conversation, and you gripped the edge of that metal table they'd seated you on.

“You will be blindfolded to prevent any phantom sensations by merely watching,” one said before a thick black strip of fabric was tied over your eyes. “We will begin momentarily, so we just need you to speak when you begin to feel something. We have a series of tests to run through, some a bit more invasive to test the maintained connection, then you will be finished. Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed.

And you braced yourself against that metal edge warmed by your touch. In blistering, stomach-flipping anticipation, you waited. $10,000.00. You swallowed hard. It was so worth it for $10k cash.

Just a few tests. Ones that might not even work–

Beneath your thick sweater, underneath your bra, you felt it. The warm, gloved touch. A brush of fingers underneath your breast, following the curve up. A jolt at the touch had you pulling back from nothing. Nobody was in front of you, magically slipping underneath your shirt. It wasn't lifted. Your bra didn't magically vanish. No, as you leaned back from nobody's touch, the gloved fingers went higher, and they brushed over both nipples.

“Yes,” you stuttered, eyes wide behind the blindfold. Not that you didn’t think it was possible–surely if they were offering so much money, they had some semblance of a success they needed to recreate, but still. Actually experiencing the slow connection of their fingers pinching your nipples without actually touching you? “Yes, I feel that.”

“Good, human contact is successful. We need to test artificial,” he stated.

Artificial…?

Oh.

The actual coldness of the metal was somehow there and faraway at the same time. It didn’t entirely make sense how you were able to process it. But magic was magic, so. One tight metal clamp closed around one nipple, and the rip of pinching pleasure shot through to your spine and went lower.

“Yes–”

A second clamp closed on your other nipple.

Tight, there, but not. A low throbbing bullied its way beneath your shirt. It was…strange. The sensation of the sharp pinching that was there but wasn’t. Squeezing the table’s edge, you fought the urge to reach up just to feel yourself through your sweater. The throbbing acted in tandem with the clamps, but there was more to it. A necessity you couldn’t fully put to words–that you wouldn’t put to words for them–that you ached to touch yourself beyond the means of just…checking. Your nipples ached, that’s as plain as it got, and they ached for contact.

“Yes, I can…I can feel both,” you breathed.

“Good.”

The clamps released.

The ache remained.

The metal was a soft clack on the table, and with a little tilt of your head to listen to what the blindfold was now painfully keeping hidden, there was a brush against your lips. A gloved finger, unmistakably. It was a subconscious response. Again, you reared back from nothing. There wasn't anyone or anything but you and the air around you. But there, again, fingers touched your lips, pushed past with just a little bit of force, and you could feel two pressing down on your tongue.

“Mhm,” was all you managed to get out. Muffled yet…not. They weren’t actually in there, but the pressure kept your tongue down and mouth closing around their fingers.

“Okay,” came as a distant murmur, and then fingers retreated.

There was only a half-second pause before your mouth went from swallowing empty to taking in a wooden tongue depressor, pushing your tongue down as the fingers had. The woody taste was flat and bitter, but not entirely direct. You made the same muffled mhm sound as best as you could, fighting back the urge to push up on what wasn’t actually there.

It retreated.

"We will be moving on," someone else said. Her voice came in from the left as adjustments were made to your right. The soft scratching from pencils carried across papers. More papers rustled, and your pulse was through the roof. With a held breath, you waited for what exactly moving on meant.

A quiver in your thighs traveled down to your toes.

It’d be just a few more tests.

Sensitive ones, but $10k. Yeah.

You fought the subconscious need to nod.

In all but seconds, as you listened to the air conditioning run through the vents above you, while pencils scratched against papers, you felt it underneath your jeans. Beyond the thick seam and the awkward inadvertent touch of your thighs together. Past your belt, button, and zipper. Underneath your underwear came the warm, gloved touch over you. Just a stroke over your folds. Like the graze of a paintbrush on a canvas.

Tension shot through from your hitched breath down to your curling toes.

“I can feel that.”

You breathed through your teeth.

Higher up the finger went. Light as a feather still, parting your folds in the process, you sat in wait. A heart-stopping, grip-tightening wait. They were going to test every spot, weren’t they? It was important. It was about making sure the pleasure connections were there. What good would it serve if there was just minimal connection? They had to test–

The finger brushed over your clit.

“Yes,” you cracked out. It was a rash reaction, but the pad of their finger ran over your clit directly. Back and forth. They were idle touches and nothing more, but sweet hell. It continued. With a bit more pressure behind the strokes. “Yes, yes, I…I can feel that.”

The touch retreated. The air conditioning hum battled with the flicker of your pulse. The thrumming in your ears found your head. They were just tests. Important tests. This was what you signed up for. You knew it was coming. You’d prepped yourself for it.

Still, when the cold silicone touched your clit, you jolted so hard you gasped. It was a perfect circle that came with a soft touch at first, then a second long brought more pressure. Not hard or even remotely uncomfortable, but as you nodded, the person applying it seemed to settle it firmer against you.

“We will conduct a quick test just to test external stimulation success,” one said.

The words drowned in the sea of ambiguity that suddenly made a whole lot of sense when that firm press wasn’t just a tongue depressor equivalent. A near-silent click caught your attention before it was suddenly eviscerated. All focus fell into a pinpoint on your clit. Where the hum of the air conditioning and the thrum of your heart had been in your head, all that encapsulated it was an abrupt vibration against your clit. Low in intensity, but it was still a vibrator to your clit. Directly to your clit.

“Oh my god.”

A quiet laugh echoed out to your right.

“I would say she can feel it,” someone said.

“We need to test the varying levels, but we can return to that,” another said. Click. The vibrations kicked off just as your clit began to ache. Not that general ache of stimulation, but when the sensations cut, you felt the slight release in tension that only came in slight. The seam of your jeans pressed up against your clit, and it pulsed against the thick material to ask for more attention. A pulsing that sank deeper than just surface level.

Your cunt clenched. A dampness in your underwear turned your senses up a notch.

“We will conduct another external test, and then two internal ones,” someone said. “Then, the general testing will be complete.”

“Okay,” you muttered.

One more external and then two internal?

A flash of the objects laid out on the table came up.

One more external and two internal…that could only mean….

There was a gentle pressure against your asshole. Warm, gloves, and slick with lube. It was just one slender finger running slow circles. Careful, delicate circles. Much like the touch against your clit. Just rubbing. Yes, you could feel that. You started nodding frantically, hardly able to find the single word yes. But the scratching pencils told you they'd gotten your answer. The pressure still pushing against your asshole, however, came with a gradual increase. More and more and more.

Oh.

Your breath caught in a sharp gasp.

Their finger pushed into you. Stretching. Bit by bit, you gave way with an ease only possible with the toy they had their finger in. It seemed to correlate with you, even if you weren't lubed. Knuckle by knuckle, they pushed in. Oh, god. You didn’t mean to clench around them, but you could feel their hand against your bottom. Bottomed out. Wiggling–Jesus Christ–they wiggled their finger.

“Yes. I…. Yes, yes, I can…feel…that,” you said through careful breaths.

“Good,” some said, her voice static and unaffected.

A gradual pull left you empty and feeling partially gaping. But it wasn't a long sensation. Cold and lube silicone roughly the same size as the finger came to replace it. As gradual as the finger had entered and left, the thin rod-like thing pushed into you. Deeper–it went deeper than the finger, and you…. Keeping still and casual was a fight. How were you supposed to sit on that table, nodding your head and sputtering that you could feel it not be anything but awkward?

A part of you wanted to fall back, but it was general testing!

So you gripped the edge of the table until your knuckles went white and clenched your jaw until it hurt. Casual. Professional. Click. The rod hummed to life, and your gasp brought more notes to pages. Wait. Pages fluttered. The rod stayed on and pulled out, then pushed back in. Oh, god. You nodded. And nodded. And nodded.

“Good.”

Click.

Off.

Out.

Empty.

The darkness of the blindfold blurred. How, you had no idea. But when the tension released from your shoulders and you slumped, everything felt a little blurry and off-kilter. No hair stood on end. No discomfort. But your asshole pulsed and you were…so empty. Tests, they were just tests. Ones meant to simulate sex and foreplay, so it made sense to get a little aroused. It…it was fine.

It was totally and completely fine.

One warm, gloved finger was back on your cunt. A pass over your clit made you twitch, and the path lower was a mark for the final test. A light ringing hit your ears as more fingers spread you, and the tip of one finger touched your entrance. Pushing back to get a better position on the exam table, right as you sank down to really sit, the finger sank into you.

Just like in your ass, knuckle by knuckle, it pushed in. So, so slowly. Filling you up with a curl. A nice, careful curl. A curl that brushed right over your sweet spot. Oh, fuck. It wasn’t stagnant. While you sat there, thighs spreading involuntarily, it pumped. And curled. And pumped and curled in slow, almost teasing strokes.

“Yes,” you threw out there on a cracked moan. You hadn’t said you could feel it. “Yes, yes, I can feel that. Yes.”

Their finger pressed all the way back in, and there was a quiet hum.

“Good.”

Then, you were empty again.

Then, the cold, roundish tip of something silicone touched your entrance.

It was wider than the finger, but nothing abhorrent. Lubed up, it pushed into you and filled you right on up. The slight stretch was a sudden tease, and you couldn't help it. Your elbows hit the table with a thud. Equilibrium was off, and for a moment, you worried you might tumble to the floor. Just for insertion! This was bad. But the scribble of pencils said they took that as the necessary answer.

You were fine.

This was just research.

Click.

“Oh, my–”

That vibration test echoed to life in your cunt. Right against your sweet spot, your head fell back, and you had to grit your teeth and bear the pleasure. Couldn't moan. Couldn't gasp. Just had to bite the bullet that you'd already thrown your head back, you couldn't do more than that. Had to fight it. Had to face it. Had to nod your head.

“I can feel that, yes.”

In and out.

They pulled the toy in and out, practically fucking you on it.

“Yes,” you pushed out.

In and out. In and out, all the way to the vibrating tip. And….

Click.

“Good,” someone said.

“Great,” from another.

That tension faded into obscurity and embarrassment. Shaking like a leaf in the breeze, you just lay there. Your underwear was soaking wet and your cunt…. Parts of you were throbbing that shouldn't still be throbbing and clenching that shouldn't be clenching. But it…they…. Whatever. That was the preliminary testing done.

You managed to get back upright like normal after a minute or so, the blindfold still intact. Pencils scribbled down notes. Papers fluttered. Footsteps came closer, but not entirely near.

“Given how well you’ve reacted to the tests and the success with each, we would like to offer you another $5,000.00 to advance the next set of tests we were already going to complete. They will just be a bit more…intensive than originally planned. Nothing will be confirmed without prior consent. We just have not had a compatible subject with such success yet, and we wish to take advantage of such a case. If you are willing.”

Your hands twitched on the table’s edge. An extra $5k? For…a higher intensity, huh?

“What do the tests entail?” you asked softly. There was a rough edge in your voice that hadn’t been there at the start. What were you doing? You didn’t let yourself answer the question.

“Well, we need to essentially test that all connections remain intact while in use. Simple touch tests can provide the simple responses, yes. But it would be great to test higher intensity activities together to make sure all can remain working properly without conflict. We would hate for connection to be lost during the moment.”

…

You swallowed hard.

Incense activities?

“We will have to simulate various activities in repeated tests to check the maintained connection. We will require verbal confirmation throughout to make sure all is correct. Really, it is not much different. The initial tests are simple finger stimulation and insertion. This would be additional stimulation of a higher intensity, that is all.”

So…it…. Okay….

“We will offer $7,000.00 if you are willing to strip for the tests so we can see any bodily reaction,” someone said behind the woman talking to you.

$7,000.00? $7k. You’d be walking away from the tests with $17,000.00. Sweet fuck.

What else were you supposed to say to that? Seriously. Seriously, $17,000.00.

That would cover multiple months of rent and help you pay off the last of your car. So then…. Then.

Then, you cleared your throat and nodded slowly.

“Okay. $7,000.00. I consent.”

Behind the blindfold, you could still see the room light up.

“Fantastic,” the woman said. “I will help you out of your clothes and back onto the table.”

****

Truthfully, the tests were simple but invasive. You were laid out stark naked on the metal table, blindfolded, and shaking uncontrollably. Stripping you down was nothing but necessary for the tests. But eyes still wandered. Seeing the peaks of your nipples in the cold air and the glistening over your cunt was definitely a great sign. And sight.

You kept your thighs together and scrunched up a little, but it wouldn’t last.

If the tests remained successful, you’d be begging them to keep running them.

But $17,000.00 was an okay price to pay for success.

They’d all be making ten times that when this hit the market.

The group of researchers watched you with eagerness. Anticipation was a curse upon the room amongst them and you, but patience had to be called for. The next cart was wheeled in, and more gloves were pulled onto the hands of assistants. They'd be stimulating every sensitive part of your body for the next…three hours? Maybe more. They couldn't just jump up to the highest intensity just to make sure it worked. Longevity was part of it.

There was already another stack of $10,000.00 waiting for you when this was over to allow them to check for distance after you left. Within that testing, yes, there came another intensity level check. If they sent you on your way with a thrusting dildo in you and a vibrator on your clit, would the sensations remain just as strong a step outside the building as it would while you slept in bed? Would it remain for hours on end, or would it eventually fade into the background to be ignored?

And more importantly, as these tests in-house would also test, would the participant cum?

If yes, would they be able to repeatedly? Would they be overstimulated if their body wasn't actually experiencing the direct contact, or would the sixth orgasm feel as incredible as the first?

What if there was stimulation on the toys and on the person? If someone was fucking your cunt through means of the toy and in-person, what would you feel? What if a vibrator was strapped to the clit on the toy and someone knelt between your legs and sucked it into their mouth? Questions. Endless questions. And you were the perfect guinea pig; you just had to be worked up to the point of agreeing to work with them. But those were such intense tests…. These early ones had to be conducted first.

So, with everyone gathered in the proper places, it was time to begin.

Test One: simply touching. In your mouth, where you muffled around the two fingers. On your nipples, where they were pinched just enough. Down where one finger pushed into your asshole while one entered your cunt. Then, up on your clit, pressure. Just a little bit of pressure on the silicone bud.

Notes were written as you seemed to stall out a little on the table. It was quite a lot to endure at once. But as your hands fell to the sides of the table to squeeze, your thighs pressing and rubbing together, it was obvious before you even muffled a yes.

Good.

Test Two: All fingers retreated, and the same was recreated without pause with the silicone toys.

The arch in your back came through nicely. The researchers all reacted in tandem. The clamps added to your nipples were tugged, and the toys between your legs all clicked on at the same time.

Test Two already made you moan. Much like a broken, gasping sound, it cut through the silent research room with success written all over it.

The lead researcher held up her hand. The way your back continued to arch said you could orgasm if they simply decided to leave you like that. But this wasn’t about that yet. And any denial prior to then was considered helpful, so she just gave you those few extra teasing seconds before lowering her hand.

All were removed. More notes were written.

“Tests from this point forward will be with movement,” she said plainly. They would be. This wasn’t some malicious research study. They had to run each test to be sure. You’d agreed. You’d taken the payments. “And repeated penetration. May we continue?”

A hitch in your breath was all that the next pause was, then you nodded.

Test Three: Fingers closed around your nipples in place of the clamps and pinched hard. Not painfully, but as you gasped at the touch, three fingers pumped into your mouth. Two found your cunt and pushed in very, very slowly, two found your asshole and did the same, and up on your clit, attention was given. Light and slow, in gentle circles. Barely there, but looking back….

One hand went over your head, and your thighs parted. Enjoyment was a positive sign. Not inherently an important one, so long as the stimulation was noted, but enjoyment worked in their benefit. Your cunt was dripping onto the table, and you outright writhed as more pressure was applied to your clit.

“Contractions,” two said one right after the other as their fingers pumped into you.

“Oh, so you can feel them?” the lead asked. You breathed through your teeth behind them, and out came a whine. “Good. That’s really good.”

Test Four: Was the same with merely added intensity. You propped your feet up on the table and let your legs fall wide open for everyone to see you jerk with every thrust of the fingers into you. Taking them like someone was practically fucking you right there on the table. Your initial awkwardness upon arrival dripped out of you right down onto that table. Good. Comfort made this better.

The lead researcher nodded, and more attention was given to your clit. Direct, unrelenting attention. Tight, faster circles that made your hips lift up off the table. Your orgasm impending. But not yet. It wasn’t the right time just yet. But that meant you could cum quickly, and that was also perfect. Just short of walking into the research building and offering yourself up naked and willing to do it for free, you were turning out to be the perfect participant.

Test Five: Silicone returned. A small dildo was pushed past your lips and you choked on nothing but air behind them. Vibrating clamps closed around your nipples. A thick vibrating plug was pushed in right to the thickest part, pulled out, pushed in, pulled out, and then pushed right back into your ass while you writhed on the table. On your cunt, the circular vibrator was pressed back to your clit directly, and lower, lubed up, an average-sized vibrator gradually pushed inside of you.

“We will run the next test with simulated sex with these,” the lead researcher said upon your initial consent. You nodded to both.

Click. You had to be held down. None moved inside of you outside of the low vibrations, but the way you jerked, four assistants had to rush over and pin you to the table. Hands back by your head, ankles and legs held against their stomachs, they pinned you properly so others could take the necessary notes. The position provided the perfect view for such required notes. There was a physical reaction. There was no hint beyond your arousal that you had every hole filled. Your clit didn’t so much as twitch when the vibrator was lifted and someone rolled it between their thumb and forefinger.

Yes, you lurched and lashed. Yes, your cunt dropped and clenched. But as they moved onto Test Six–thrusting the toys in every hole–you were subsequently empty in your sudden squirming.

The lead researcher stood over you, watching. How you pulled and whined, rocking your hips before stopping, clearly trying to act professional. The test would only last about another ten seconds, but she could see it. You could feel her watching you, and you knew as well as she did that you were close to climaxing.

But….

Click.

You threw your head back. Sweat sheened, and your body went limp.

She walked around to stand beside you, bending over with new ideas popping in at a dangerous speed and with questionable ethics.

“Can we apply dual stimulation?” she asked beside your ear. “For an extra $10,000. In accordance with our testing the distance between here and your home, I want to apply stimulation to the toys directly and to you.” She looked over your aching nipples. “Think about it. While we finish this round of testing.”

Test Seven: Before you could answer, she held up her hand to begin. Click. The next level of intensity shot through the toys. Pumping in and out of you, the lube squelched like you yourself were getting fucked in both holes. Your scream was partially muffled, and your hips lifted again. Tried to, at least.

“Can you feel it in your mouth?” the lead researcher asked, pointlessly. She knew you could.

You still nodded.

“Can you feel it on your nipples?”

Again, you nodded.

“Your clit?”

Your whine said yes.

“Your asshole? Do you feel the vibrators inside your asshole? Inside your cunt?”

Two more whines that said yes, yes. You did. You most certainly did. You did because there, pulling at those pinning you down, you started squirming again. Pulling and pushing, back and forth, trying to get yourself back to wherever you were trying to go, but there you were arching your back off the table and choking on a dildo that wasn't actually in your mouth.

There, you screamed out a broken moan, and your orgasm came over you violently. The exact way they’d needed it to. Violent, unforgiving, and just perfectly. The pleasure erupted improperly because nobody was actually touching you, and your body twitched and shifted. You took the thrusts of the toys with your head back and pussy dripping. Fucked in all holes–barely, they’d barely started giving you real thrusts and strength–you clenched empty and aching. And yet?

Yet, you still came.

Click.

“Test Eight,” the lead researcher declared with a hint of amusement in her voice.

You flinched at the words, but there was no denial.

Click.

The next of five intensity levels. The lead researcher bent over the table and whispered in your ear. We have so many more tests we need to run. Will you help us? Seeing how many ways we can reach an orgasm with these is imperative. If you’re willing.

Test Nine.

The penultimate intensity was locked in. You came again. Thrashing on the table, more were called in to hold you down. The lead researcher watched from between your legs when your climax hit. Hardly any evidence that you were being fucked senseless. If you could keep yourself together, nobody would know. A good selling point for the exhibitionists. Sort of.

Interesting.

Test Ten.

Test Ten was quite a lot for you. The toys drilling into you harder than before whilst on the highest settings? The one on your clit was turned on last out of courtesy, and when that click came through, it was immediately silenced by your shriek.

It only took seconds.

Literal seconds. Successful seconds.

Whatever words you'd been aiming to speak were immediately torn to smithereens. Your cunt gushed empty and aching in the sudden burst of your orgasm. It ripped through you as violently as your first one had, but this one…. The lead researcher didn't hold up their hand, and the panic came across your face immediately when the stimulation didn't stop. It was a good testing point.

The way you fell into the pleasure was visible. From the rush of your orgasm into the mind-shattering pleasure that remained, it was a partial answer. You were overstimulated, but differently. Sobbing, but barely begging, your hips lifted and your back arched, and just like that, you came. Again.

Came with another shriek and came with such a successful force, it was fantastic.

All while you lie completely untouched. Your poor clit was swollen, but it wasn't from touch. It wanted.

How fascinating. You were multiple orgasms in, and your body technically hadn’t had a real one yet. Just a brush against your clit said you’d cum. But at the wave of her hand, the test finished. It was unethical to touch you without permission. And the way you collapsed when the clamps were removed and the toys were pulled out, you were in need of a break she didn’t entirely want to give. But….

She walked over to you slowly. Everyone took the notes she didn't need to take. Left in a sweaty, gushing mess, she just bent over you. Your chest heaved, and tears dampened the blindfold just enough to be visible, but she was undeterred.

“Will you walk out of here $27,000.00 richer for just a few extra tests?” She paused. You wanted that $27k. Badly. But…. “We need to test simultaneous stimulation. I will raise it to $30,000.00 if you roll onto your knees and chest and allow us to penetrate you.”

$30,000.00. Holy…. It….

Your chest stuttered on your next breath.

Notes were still written. Your body still hadn’t fully relaxed.

$30k.

Fuck it.

Fuck it!

Your nod was barely there, but it was a nod.

And with a careful, moaning roll, the tests continued.

****

They had to tie you down. You drooled onto the metal table, the minutes ticking by into hours. How a little stimulation test turned into this, you had the answer as cash in your purse, but sweet fuck. They’d started with the toys first, pushing beads one by thickening one into your ass there and using the same toy on you. Literally on you. Lubing you up and working you open with a slender finger first, then giving them to you.

In together. Out together. Then alternating. Magically, they were pushed in, while literally, they came out. Being stretched at different sizes while being filled and emptied at the same time made no sense, but it felt so out of the world incredible, you couldn’t breathe.

They did the same with their fingers in your cunt. Gloved fingers pushed into the toy, then out, then two more ran over your aching cunt like a torturous tease before pushing in. And when they pushed in, sweet hell, it was a whole other ballgame. The difference between the toys and the real thing was felt then. Prominently.

But as they pulled out of your cunt and pushed back in whilst those in the toy did the same, there was no time to linger on such a thought. They fucked you together, making you whine onto the table.

The tests weren’t stated anymore. They just started touching and didn't stop until you were quivering and clenching. The bindings on your ankles and wrists kept you pinned clean to the table. One strap went higher over the backs of your knees to keep you steady, and another went over your shoulders.

They gave you earplugs so you couldn't hear any comments or commands.

Blindfolded and deafened, you just listened to the beat of your pulse while you drooled and moaned. Gloved fingers alternated in fucking your cunt with a not-so-gradual increase in intensity.

You didn’t hear them when the lead researcher said to rub your clit on you while directing one of the assistants to lick the one on the toy. Didn’t have to, though. You felt their tongue drag over you the second before the finger touched you and rubbed. Pleasure spiked in an instant. Your clit was finally given attention, and it came with a phantom wrap of lips around it and a suck that made you scream.

It happened so fast. Clenching around the fingers. Spasming and twitching. The rush of pleasure rippling from the contact on your clit and the curl of the fingers in your cunt. You sobbed uncontrollably when your orgasm hit you like it was the first of the night, and you gushed. Sprayed.

All over the table and the person behind you.

You came.

Their fingers, their mouths–they continued without pause. Even literally on you, they continued. It was so much. So, so much. You said as much against the table, but they continued. They pushed and pushed and pushed until you were there again. Again! Tears dampened the blindfold in your second, powerful, overwhelming orgasm.

You dripped down your thighs.

The tests continued.

When a signed contract to act as their official test subject for $30.50/hr was in your purse with your messy signature on it, your throat was raw and scratchy as hands gripped your hips. The table was lowered, and your position was changed just enough to fit someone underneath you. The hours ticked by. The earplugs were changed to noise-cancelling headphones, and the blindfold stayed on. Your hands were bound behind your back then, with a harsh grip holding onto the rope keeping them together.

On the table, alternating thrusts, two assistants fucked you, and one stood next to the table with her skirt up. Both holes were stuffed full with alternating rough thrusts. Out of sight, your orgasms were tallied on a whiteboard for you to see when you were finished. Behind you, however, the test found its second important layer.

Three more assistants and the head researcher stood with the toys. One played with the silicone nipples in varying-strengthed pinches and pulls. Two more mimicked those at the table with you, their pants down, the toys off their stands, fucking into you slow at first, then they matched the rhythm of the other two. A small vibrator was taped to the toy just at your clit.

The mouth one came underneath the head researcher’s skirt, locked there where she felt every motion you did to the assistant standing beside the table.

It was for research. To see if you could really feel everything. When they put their fingers inside the toys, they could feel you warm and wet and clenching. And now they could say that oral could be reciprocated that way. It could even be done so efficiently that orgasm could be reached.

She locked the toy against herself in proof of that.

And….

And orgasm could be reached multiple times while clearly overstimulated with multiple cocks penetrating you. Granted, it was one in each hole, and there was a vibrator on your clit. But you were being fucked senseless in four ways, and you spasmed and screamed with orgasm after orgasm.

Until cum dripped out of both toys, and the assistants were pulling their pants up.

Until the condoms were full and you were left with a glistening mouth and gaping, clenching holes on the table.

The head researcher set the mouth replica aside.

“We will be running various tests of this nature every night for the foreseeable future,” she said beside you, lifting up the headphones. Water, towels, snacks, and a robe were brought next. Those who had to wait their turn for next time to…run the test…took very gentle touches to you to clean you up. “Do you have a short, casual dress?”

You barely nodded. You did.

“Good. Bring it tomorrow. We will be testing how prominent the spell remains while you complete other tasks. It requires frequent checks, and a dress makes it easy.” She gave your back a small pat. “My assistants will help you. See you tomorrow at 9:00 AM. Oh, and fill out this sheet if you feel anything during the night or experience any reactions in the morning.”

A folder with a dozen sheets was set aside for you. To note symptoms, to write about what you’d thought they’d done to you via the toys during the night. All set up neatly for you to fill out and them to check. Ones that’d be handed out to countless others if they could perfect the product and bring in other participants. Then, they could have you test the products on each other at will and randomly.

"Thank you for signing on with us. You'll see an additional $500.00 be deposited into your account as a sign-on bonus."

It felt laughable compared to the $40k in your purse, but comparatively…. You'd taken a small chunk of the fortune awaiting them. It'd take about a year of testing, and they'd be the most successful product of its kind on the market. With you as their top tester and advocate.

But…you had to get through that year first, and in that year came a lot of tests.

It made incredible money, and with all the orgasms attached?

Who the hell were you to say no?

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