Every character in this short is 18+. It contains extreme forced orgasms, body modifications, and casual disregard for someone's well-being.
“If you remember at the start of the tour, I promised you a treat. Normally she’s in a sensory deprivation tank that we can only observe through night-vision monitors, but, behind this door, Aliza is being extracted for hardware upgrades. Since we can do most of our adjustments remotely these days, this is an increasingly special moment.”
The dozen future university students came alive in excited whispers at the professor’s mention of the name. “Aliza is real?” a boy asked out loud.
“Oh, yes. And very few of the rumors you’ve heard about her are inaccurate. She’s been a pet project for the heads of every department for over two years now. I’m sure some of you will contribute to this experiment in some way during your scholastic years.”
A shy boy raised his hand. “Is she really cumming non-stop without sleep 24/7?”
“This is one of the rumors that’s slightly exaggerated, I’m afraid, but perhaps not for long. Aliza has 8.3 seconds of rest on average between prolonged orgasms of over twenty minutes. But with the larger, more powerful equipment she’s receiving today, we’re hoping to reduce the refractory period to zero. At that point, yes, she will be cumming non-stop, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. It’s going to be fascinating to see how her body and brain handle extremely powerful orgasms that blend into a never-ending nightmare of pleasure. Pardon the colorful language. I’m just so excited about the future of this project. We all are.”
“But like... why?” a short girl in glasses asked, shaking her chocolate ponytail in incredulity. Despite the reasonable question, the dash of attitude instantly alienated her from the brownnosers.
The professor embraced all inquisitive young minds. “Why are we forcing a girl into a deep state of extreme and hopefully perpetual orgasm? It’s never about ‘why’ in science or in life. You never know what an experiment will reveal until you follow it through to the end.”
Ignoring the clicks of a few tongues, the girl in glasses pressed on: “But did she volunteer for this treatment? Are you studying a medical condition?”
“Aliza was just a particularly attractive freshman who sparked many lewd discussions in the staff room. Then someone saw in her file that she was donating her body to science. Most people don’t know that scientists don’t have to wait for you to die to claim your body. So that’s what we did. What started as research on female anatomy and erogenous zones turned into an arms race between research departments, each claiming they could trigger the strongest orgasm. But when we started working together, that’s when the fun truly began.”
“Fun? This is all just for your amusement?”
“Data collection is an underrepresented fetish.” The professor received a few chuckles from his flock. “Empirically, however, Aliza is the one having the most fun of all of us. Of anyone on Earth, most likely. To give you an idea, eating a piece of chocolate scores a 5 on the Ventral Tegmental Activity chart. A typical orgasm for a girl her age can reach 75 VTA in ideal conditions. With the use of chemicals and targeted stimulation, we’ve been able to maintain an average of 1067 VTA on Aliza for the last two months. After today’s upgrades, we’re hoping to double that score.
“You’re assuming forced pleasure is perceived the same way as consensual pleasure,” the girl with the glasses had more to say. “Someone being tickled might be laughing while hating every second of it.”
Again, the professor did not share the group’s annoyance with the girl. “This is an excellent point,” he replied. “It’s especially on the nose given that we do stimulate her somatosensory cortex by tickling the soles of her feet. But keep in mind that Aliza’s brain no longer functions the same way as ours. Her prefrontal cortex has severe atrophy. Literally, the only thing on her mind is sexual stimulation. To end the experiment at this point would be the real torture.”
Glasses girl looked like she had more to say but the professor received a text and smiled at the group.
“Shall we?”
On a metal slab next to a giant aquarium lay a naked young woman covered in electrodes and intravenous lines. Blonde hair darkened by their dripping wetness almost reached the floor. She was moaning, twisting, and arching her back even without any of the machinery active. Masked technicians in surgical gear worked with the efficiency of a pitstop crew to pull extremely large, ribbed phallic objects out of her crotch to replace them with larger and more deeply ribbed phallic objects. None of the girls on the university tour could conceive a single of these oddly shaped monstrosities penetrating their body through any orifice, let alone several at once.
“Why is she grinding her bean like that?” a boy asked. The same question in different words had popped into everybody’s mind when they saw that, despite being free from her liquid cell for the first time in months and despite creepy hazmat men messing around with her body attachment, the girl’s large squishy breasts were squeezed between her arms as she furiously rubbed her clitoris with fingers from both hands like her life depended on it.
The professor was happy to explain. “Very early on, we trained Aliza to add manual stimulation into the mix. Who better than yourself to know how to relieve stress? We would shock her vibrating clitoris piercing with the wattage of a car battery whenever she stopped. I can’t remember the last time we had to jolt her clitoral rod. She’s fully conditioned and never stops masturbating in or out of the tank.
“Wow, she’s a total slut,” said the 'bean' boy.
“Don’t say that.” The girl with glasses took offense at the objectification of this kidnapping victim.
“Look at her!” he replied, pointing at the moaning slut pissing herself with her eyes rolled back.
The professor steered the conversation away from useless slurs. “What you see around her neck is an inflatable choker that’s much like a blood pressure monitor you put on your arm. Restricting blood and oxygen flow through the neck has proved invaluable to prolonged orgasms.”
“Does she ever pass out from the choking?” someone asked.
“We have the luxury of knowing the exact moment she’s about to lose consciousness and ease up at the last microsecond to minimize brain damage. Or sometimes we shock her back to life. The asphyxiation algorithm is very much in flux.”
A technician entered the room with what looked like two giant condoms covered in electronic parts.
“Oh, take one last look at Aliza’s magnificent breasts because they are being packed tightly into the new massager pumps. They will constantly suck Aliza’s breasts and pinch her nipples, which were already extra sensitive even before the steady flow of aphrodisiac and adrenaline in her veins. At the height of climax, they can squeeze the mammary glands with the grip strength of a silverback gorilla.
“What are they doing to her belly? I can’t really see.” Another question on everyone’s mind. Now that Aliza had the alien bikini and a crotch packed with scary, pump-action vibrators —eight of them if you counted the wires coming out— most of the focus was on her midsection.
“As you can see, we’ve got tons of gyrating, vibrating, rubbing implements, in all three orifices. Her urethral sponge, commonly known as G-spot, is massaged, pounded, and sprayed with sensory-enhancing chemicals from many different angles. However, as we near the limit of how wide her birth canal, rectum, and urethra can stretch, we had to start thinking outside the box...” The crowd gasped and covered their mouths. Glasses girl almost threw up when the two technicians moved out of the way and revealed their handiwork. “We decided to start stimulating the female reproductive system from a completely new angle.”
A large vibrator, as large as those rammed into Aliza’s natural holes, had been inserted in Aliza’s belly button at an angle that would poke her womb from the wrong side.
“It’s not an experiment if you don’t experiment. We’re very excited about this development.”
Still a bit unsure about the new hole theory, the visitors got to see more of the writhing girl as the team members completed their tasks. Her navel was bulging with inserted devices. Breathing tubes had been inserted deep into her nostrils. Bumpy rollers were secured to her feet like sandals to tickle her feet as Glasses Girl feared.
As the science team remotely activated devices one by one for testing purposes, the group witnessed how lively those apparatuses could get by watching the warping shapes on Aliza’s pale skin, blurred by vibrations. Aliza was screaming in delight, clearly cumming hard from simple checks. And whenever the pleasure got too intense to scream, wet, disturbing pumping sounds filled the laboratory air.
“It’s only going to get louder in here until Aliza is returned to her sensory deprivation tank. Let’s continue to the observation deck where we will monitor the new vitals.”
“VTA climbing fast. Already past initial average.”
“Vaginal contractions are stronger than expected. Our sensors are maxing out.”
“Switching IV flow to new concentrations.”
“All vibrators at max. They’re heating up, but holding.”
While university professors and their aides fiddled with dials and called out statuses, the visitors watched Aliza’s floating body having full-on mermaid seizures in night vision. You could feel the intensity of her orgasmic screams by the wrath of bubbles shooting out of her mouth. Nobody expected her to be able to masturbate more frantically than what they witnessed on the metal table. The many wriggling toys inside her pelvic girdle made waves on her belly.
Even with six horrifying angles on high-definition monitors, eyes were constantly glancing at the rising VTA number on one of the consoles. Like watching a foreign sports match, the mounting excitement had everyone (even Glasses Girl) clenching their fists in fervent hopes of victory, whatever that meant.
“VTA steadying at 3240. Our projections estimate peak climax in twenty seconds.”
“The algorithm is choking her hard. Keep an eye on her brain activity.”
“This is it. This is when she’d start coming down from her high.”
“VTA holding... holding...”
“VTA rising! Refractory period of zero seconds! We have a new orgasm!”
The room exploded in cheers, handshakes, and hugs.
After confirming five more times that Aliza was rolling her orgasms with no downtime, the professor clapped his hands for the attention of his group. “I’m so happy to have been able to share this historic moment with you all. Do you have any questions before we move on to perhaps less exciting parts of the tour?”
“I have a suggestion, actually” the glasses girl chimed in, to a collective sigh from her peers. “Instead of pausing the experiment and extracting your test subject from the tank to install untested additions you hope will work, wouldn’t it make more sense to hook up a second test subject to previous-gen equipment and try new ideas on her first?”
“Wow, that’s... that’s an excellent idea. Do you volunteer?”
“No! Unless... If no one else is available... I could maybe consider it...”
The professor circled around the pursed-lip girl, frozen by her own outlandishness, and crept his hands up her shirt. As he heavily groped her breasts without opposition, the other students were left wondering if Glasses Girl had always been a freak or if seeing Aliza in her ultimate form triggered a sexual awakening.
“Your breasts are surprisingly large for your frame. Something I’ve always wanted to try since the introduction of the bellybutton entrance is inserting vibrating dildos in artificially created nipple orifices.”
“That’s a stupid idea,” Glasses Girl said. “...But I guess it wouldn’t be an experiment if you didn’t experiment.”
“What’s your name, young lady? Never mind. We’ll call you Betaliza. I’ll help you fill out the form to donate your body to science and we’ll set you up with all of the old equipment right away. They're probably still warm. It might be a tight fit for your inexperienced orifices, but you’ll get used to it quickly, I’m sure.”
Betaliza let a hand on her back guide her toward the ravenous pack of labcoats hungry for mad science.
“Everyone else, thank you for coming on this tour,” the professor turned his head to say. “The exit signs will lead you to the campus square.”
The visitors lingered, watching Betaliza get stripped down and sign her life away to become the squirming part of an orgasm machine. Their imaginations ran wild with disturbing ideas that she would have to beta test.