when you signed up to be a product tester for different companies, you were picturing cleaning gadgets, kitchen appliances, maybe some accessibility installs or new home technology. what you hadn't pictured was being invited to a remote facility to test out a fancy new massage chair, where you weren't even allowed to set foot inside the building until you'd signed a whole tree's worth of waivers and NDAs. it felt strange and secretive, but by taking this job you were getting an extra bonus on top of your monthly pay, so you didn't think too hard about it until you arrived.
the reception area was nice, but empty. staffed only by a polite woman at the counter. no branding or logos anywhere. after another round of forms you barely read and ID being processed, an official-looking man holding a tablet and dressed in a lab coat arrived to show you into the facility. he had glasses and grey at his temples, but if he told you his name when he greeted you, you didn't catch it.
you let him walk you down echoing hallways and through badge-locked doors, where you passed no one but another man wearing an identical coat. then you let him lead you into a tiled room, brightly lit and sparsely furnished with a large two-way mirror on one wall. and then, you let him strap you into the almost dentist-like chair in its centre, half-reclined with your feet in stirrups. you were a bit confused at the restraints, but he wasn't explaining, so you didn't ask any questions.
"that's not too tight?" he asked, fastening another buckle at your hip. you said no, and he tightened it again. "how does that feel?" he then asked, spreading the stirrups wider and stretching your legs open. when you said okay, he nodded and pushed them a little further. your introduction to the massage chair continued like this until he was pushing your head back against a cushioned rest, and a gag was being stretched over your lips.
you couldn't contain your shock: you opened your mouth to refuse, or at least demand to know what was going on, but all he did was shove the gag in and fasten it on the other side of your head. your arms were tied down, your rising voice muffled. that was when he pulled a pair of industrial scissors from his coat, and began methodically cutting your clothes from your body.
you thrashed then, trying to yell and tell him to stop, but the gag garbled your words, and the restraints were so tight you could only clench your fists and twist your torso. unfazed, he cut away your shirt and bra, pulling them from beneath you. then off came your shoes, one leg of your jeans, then the next. for a moment, all you were left in were your panties, cool air caressing the skin of your inner thighs, and he seemed to take a moment to appreciate the sight before he cut them right off you too.
you didn't know what to do: you almost felt like crying. there you were, laid back and tied down, bare and spread for a strange man's gaze. you tried to beg him--for help or anything, what, you didn't know--but the man simply looked you over, checking a fastening here and there, gathered up your clothes, and left the way he came.
you were left by yourself in that room, but not really. the two-way mirror was directly across from you, and in its dark reflection you had an unobstructed view of your struggling limbs, your unprotected pussy. even without seeing them, you knew there must have been a team of researchers watching you from the other side.
mind panicking, trying to rationalise this situation, this chair--could you remember reading about any of this in the forms you signed?--you kept tugging at the straps and tonguing at the gag. something clicked and you thought you might have a chance to free yourself: you hadn't known what to expect, but this certainly wasn't it. this was just supposed to be a massage chair, a harmless product testing--
rather than the restraints loosening, something cold touched your bottom and you jumped. you could only see it in the window: a curved metal protrusion of some sort, slipping out from the chair and between your cheeks, up to your pussy. you whimpered, twisting against the restraints. but you couldn't put any distance between you and it, so you were forced to endure the sensation of it rising up against you, only to pull back and rise again. up and down it went, moving against you slowly, firmly, spreading your lips and bumping against your clit with every pass.
you don't know how much time passed like that, where the only sound in the room was soft, robotic whirring, and your ragged breathing around the gag as you fought against the tingling warmth rising in your body. you couldn't help growing wet from the constant stimulation, and soon the damning sound of your wetness could be heard echoing through the room too.
there was another subtle click and the metal rod began moving faster against you, rubbing against your pussy without pause. you jerked and whimpered again, squirming in the chair. you told yourself there was an audience on the other side of that mirror. you were in a weird place tied to a weird machine. this was not the time to be feeling as good as you were, but then--another click. it picked up speed again, the sensations relentless and inescapable, but when it started vibrating as well, all thoughts except chasing that white-hot pleasure left you. your body spasmed uncontrollably and you came apart, flooding the rod as your helpless moans were muffled by the gag. it kept rubbing you through your orgasm, and you barely heard the other click as it started to slow again.
but then the rod lengthened. it rose between your legs just enough for you to see that it was more of a curving, prehensile robotic limb than a rod, its rounded metal head curving over to kiss the entrance of your pussy. fear cut through the haze of pleasure as your struggles renewed: what was that? what were they trying to do to you? but with your legs spread wide and pussy pulsing from your orgasm, your body offered no resistance as it began to push its way inside.
you moaned helplessly as the first inch sunk into you, cold and unforgiving. there was more whirring as the chair shuddered for a moment, and strange metal arms unfolded and rose either side of your breasts. their ends opened to reveal what looked like miniature head massagers, with thin, curving fingers. you babbled against the gag and desperately shook your head, but no matter how much you squirmed, the appendage in your pussy kept slowly splitting you open, and those arms lowered down over your nipples with precision.
what you thought was about to be a painful pinch was actually like the delicate brush of tiny metal fingertips, teasing your nipples and hardening them to points, caressing the sensitive skin around your breasts and swirling around the peaks. yet another click and they began to apply pressure, alternating between tweaking and pulling your nipples in time with the metal arm that had begun thrusting. they settled into a perfect, torturous rhythm.
somewhat distantly, you realised the researchers must be controlling the chair, toying with your naked body as they saw fit. you could almost picture them standing at the glass, watching and writing down your reactions as they tested the features of their machine on your prone form. that thought was punctuated by a particularly hard thrust and pull of your nipples, and you told yourself that's what made you come, moaning as your legs shook and your wetness dripped onto the table--not your phantom audience.
you were subject to their every whim, whimpering and twitching with every movement of the metal arms. once it found your g-spot it kept its focus there, curved up and stroking your insides steadily. at some point, a thinner one had stretched up to your clit, where it lay against your bud vibrating at different rhythms, intensities, and speeds. sometimes there were two arms thrusting in and out of your pussy in alternating motions, at other times there were clamps that came down on your hips to hold you steady as the machine fucked up into you rapidly. you were pushed up and down like a ragdoll on the chair, made to come in quick succession, then edged for so long that when the vibrator finally found your clit again you nearly screamed as you orgasmed.
you felt like you were breaking, dying. your whole body was flushed, sensitive, and you thought you heard your own voice moaning from somewhere faraway, but still the machine continued. every setting, from gentle to rough, had you seeing stars; there was no stopping, no letting up. you were a cumming, thoughtless mess, little more than a warm, boneless body held up by the chair.
when, finally, it started to slow and the appendages peeled away from your body, you didn't know whether to cry from relief or their absence. your eyes had been screwed shut for a while, but now your brow relaxed, tension leaving you. you were exhausted, spent, and could feel your heartbeat all over. all you wanted to do was lay there and catch your breath.
but there was the sound of a door opening, then a latex glove touched your thigh and your eyes flew open: the man who had shown you inside was standing between your spread legs, his pants unzipped and hard cock in hand. "great work today," he said. "we really appreciate your time. now all that's left is double-checking the results, right?"
you tried to summon the strength to protest, but your efforts were just as futile as they were when you arrived. the restraints held you tight, the gag quiet, as he pushed his cockhead straight into your waiting pussy with a pop, already drenched and ready for his use. "so wet," he groaned. "that last combination must have been a show-stopper."
his thrusts were punishing from the start, like he'd been waiting for this moment: pushing all the way in, pulling all the way out, and ramming in again. it wasn't like you needed any preparation and he fucked you hard, fast, lab coat flapping at his thighs. he gripped the strap around your waist tightly as he slammed his cock deep inside you. his body was almost unbearably hot compared to the metal from before, and you moaned when his gloved thumb found your clit and rubbed it side to side. he was pushing you over the edge again, every muscle tightening up as you drowned in wave after wave of pleasure.
his movements picked up speed, hips stuttering, and all of a sudden he was bent over and rutting into you like an animal. your orgasm triggered his, and then he was groaning and cumming as your pussy milked him: pressed balls-deep inside you, cock twitching and shooting ropes of cum deep into your pussy. after a deep breath he pushed off you unceremoniously, pulling out and patting your ankle as he turned away.
behind him were the other researchers, hanging back and waiting patiently, a whole team of them lined up to take their turn with you. some still wore their white coats and tented slacks, but others were already fully undressed, stroking their cocks to your muffled whimpers. you could barely catch your breath, chest heaving, and you wondered how many had already come to you being fucked mercilessly by the machine, jerking themselves off on the other side of the glass. or maybe they had been edging themselves inside, hard and aching until it was time for them to fill you, to appreciate the result of their machine.
the next man stepped up to your prone form, his erection longer and thicker than the first, and despite your pleasure-drunk haze, you tried to shake your head no, it's not going to fit, i can't take much more, please--
but with a few slaps of his cock against your clit, he forced himself inside too. just like the machine he started shallow, somehow opening you up even more with each rock of his hips, but soon he was plowing straight into you, forcing his length in again and again. all you could do was moan, eyes falling shut as you came yet again, walls fluttering around his cock. he kissed and licked your nipples, savouring the way your body reacted, and you must have blacked out for a little while, because then he was cumming too, bottoming out somewhere deep inside, throbbing and filling you with warmth.
your body was oversensitive, pushed straight over the edge over and over again. but over and over again you were pounded, each researcher young and old emptying his balls deep inside you, or pulling out just enough to come all over your restrained body. some teased your breasts, some licked and sucked at your clit, some rubbed their hands up and down your thighs as they watched their length disappear into your tender, swollen pussy. but by the time the last man had pulled out of your twitching and shuddering body, the first one was raring and ready to go, over and over again.
it was little wonder that after you were made to come so many times, passing out on one cock just to come to on another, that by the time the researchers had their fill and you had well and truly had your brains fucked out: you barely felt the hands that freed you from the massage chair or realised when your limp body was carried from the room. your job was finally done.
but when you came to properly, you were tucked into what looked like a hospital bed, washed, cleaned, and dressed in new clothes (just a company-issued t-shirt, tracksuit pants, and what looked like cotton underwear). on the table beside you was a pitcher of water and array of lunch items, as well as a tall stack of papers held together with an alligator clip, titled: "[redacted] focus-group one: testing and feedback." a sticky note was stuck to the top with a smiley face, asking you to provide written feedback on pages 32 and 33.
as you sat there, staring out of what must have been one of the only windows in the facility and sipping your glass of water, you knew you would've done it all over again, even without the extra pay.
that massage chair was worth it alone.
