200 Likes Bonus Story: FOR SCIENCE!

A man named Horaku leads/pulls a nude and bound women down a hall. She is naked, her clothes having been jettisoned into space by Horaku soon after he her. Her large breasts shake back and forth as she struggles against her leash. She is average height, with long straight black hair that reaches the small of her back. The black women is not fat, but she is curvy. This gives her a wide ass and full breasts. A black rubber gag turns her screams of protests into muffled cries. Behind her back, her arms are held together at the wrists and he elbows with a black adhesive tape, forcing her already generous bust out. She is continuously pulling against a rope leash.

“Now, now,” says Horaku unclipping a shock rod, “that’s only going to get you more pain.” To emphasize his point, he reaches towards her with the rod. The women tries to dodge, but all she can do is bend at the waist to avoid the device. Haraku simply reigns in the leash and stabs her in the gut with it.

“MARRRH!” The woman screams. There is another shock and another scream. When she still pulls at the leash, Horaku simply grabs her by the hair with the hand holding the leash. He forces her to bend at the hip as he drags her along. Continued struggles earn her more pain.

The featureless hallway is filled with locked doors and muffled screams. The unseen sounds of despair make Horaku’s ward tremble as they march onward. They pass two orderlies pushing a gurney. Strapped to the gurney at the waist neck, arms and legs is another nude women with copper skin, her head completely covered by a rubber hood. A flat chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths.

Further down the hall they reach a door that is not locked and Horaku drags the prisoner through it. The inside is a cross between a doctors room and a laboratory. The counter has petri dishes and beakers next to a microscope, while the center of the room is dominated by the gynecology chair from hell. Numerous leather straps, clearly meant to restrain the occupant, are attached to cold hard metal all along the back and at the stirrups. Several robotic armatures hang from the ceiling, each tipped with a variety of tools ranging from scalpels to needles.

Typing away at a small desk with a computer interface is a gorgeous women with blond hair tied into a messy bun wearing a lab coat and spectacles. She turns in a swivel chair to face the new arrivals and crosses her legs, revealing a black mini skirt and white blouse. Both make it quite clear she is not wearing underwear. “Ahhh, Horaku. You’re here. I trust the journey was not too, strenuous?”

“No Dr. Krizak. I followed your, instructions, quite clearly.” Horaku looks down uncomfortably at the bulge in his pants. The doctor smiles at him.

“Don’t worry Horaku. Soon, you’ll get to have your fun. You know I always make it worth it.” She stands up. “Why don’t you strap in the new test subject while I prepare the procedure.”

With a shove, Horaku forces the prisoner to the chair. He lifts her up and roughly sets the thrashing prisoner down, struggling to free her arms and lock them behind the chair back “You're probably wondering why you're here. Why is this happening to you? What is going to happen to you?” Dr. Krizak monologues as she types away, indifferent to the prisoners screams of protest.

As her torso is strapped to the chair, the restraints making her breasts bulge, the doctor answers her own questions. “You are here because I need you. You see I am a scientist of no small caliber and accomplishment. Despite the fact that my work will be instrumental in the salvation of our species, I have been ostracized by both my peers and my government. I have been persecuted to the point where I must flee from the small minds who would judge me into the remoteness of space.”

Horaku forces kicking legs and feet into the chairs stirrups and locks them in with built in manacles. “Fortunately, for humanity, I am a woman of uncommon resourcefulness and talent. Not only have I evaded my harriers, I have thrived out here in the void.” Horaku gives both tits a slap to celebrate the full restraining of the unwilling test subject. The only response she can give is a frustrated wail through her gag Dr. Krizak stands up and approaches them. “Out here, I have established a new institution in which I may continue my work unabated. Which brings us back to you, my dear.” The doctor circles the prisoner. With her arms bound behind the chair and her legs in the stirrups, she is completely helpless and exposed before her captors. Drool leaks down one cheek as she breathes heavily through her gag, large breasts rising and falling. A whimper escapes dark lips as the doctor runs a finger down between her breasts towards her vulva.

“You see, my work is on the cutting edge of scientific theory. It has to be. We live in a time when humanity is only beginning to discover the dangers this universe holds. The Iah Kuruh War was simply the first in what will surely be an unending series of conflicts that humanity is unprepared for. Indeed, the Senegol threat may prove to be an even greater danger to life as we know it than those red hermaphrodites.” Horaku hands her a metal headband, which she clamps around the captives forehead. A tingling sensation runs through her entire body. “In order to prepare for these conflicts, I have chosen to take whatever steps are necessary to provide humanity all the knowledge I can. To accomplish that end, I have many needs. One of those needs, is test subjects.”

A scream comes from the captive. Horaku presses a button and one of the armatures descends. Attached to the tip is a needle with a small canister filled with a black liquid. A tattoo gun. Both Horaku and Dr. Krizak hold the bucking prisoner steady as the machine goes to work with unparalleled efficiency. In less than a minute the unfortunate soul’s left breast now sports a bar code and above it, fresh ink reveals her new name: Subject 362.

“Now, 362,” the doctor continues, “you will be participating in many, many research projects, but the first one you’ll be working on is a pet project of mine. It is nearing completion, but it still needs a little more testing before it’s ready for the field.” She nods to Horaku, who pushes forward a small roll around table. On it is a many tailed whip, a bucket of ice, a candle, and a vibrator. 362 whimpers at the sight. Dr. Krazik taps the headband. “This will allow me manipulate your nervous system”

“MMMHH!”

“Shhhhh, shh, shh. It can actually be very pleasurable and it has many practical applications. With devices like this, we’ll be able to instantly relieve pain for trauma victims or battlefield injuries. You’re going to make a great contribution. Unfortunately, calibration can be intense.” Horaku gives the whip an experimental flick. “The device needs to experience a wide range of sensations in order to set up a baseline to work off of. I’ll be monitoring the data while Horaku here provides the sensations. You may begin when ready Horaku.”

With a smile Horaku brings the whip down on 362’s pussy. She screams through her gag as her flesh ripples from the blow. “Shake that ass bitch.” Horaku mercilessly assaults 362’s inner thighs and ass. Her exposed feet receive some bastinado treatment before Horaku moves on to her breasts. The whole time, Dr. Krazik works away at her terminal, indifferent to the tantalizing struggles of 362. After far too long for 362’s taste, the doctor calls for a halt without looking up from her terminal.

“Let’s do hot and cold next. And blindfold her. That almost always yields better results.” Horaku produces a black strap that covers 362’s eyes. Without her sight, her only hint that the candle has been lit is the smell. On her nipple just below her new tattoo, she feels a burning sensation she would be surprised to learn is actually ice, not that anyone bothered to tell her. When the hot wax is dripped on her clit, she lets out a scream that finally forces Dr. Krizak to pause her work long enough to cover her ears. Hot and cold alternate across 362’s body, until her entire torso is covered in red wax.

“I think I would like to undertake the last step, if you don’t mind Horaku.” Dr. Krazik says after both the candle and the ice have melted. “If you would oversee the data collection.”

“Ma’am, I have been exceedingly patient…”

“So you have,” replies Dr. Krizak glancing down at the bulge in his pants. "I promised you a reward and you shall have it." She leans in close and whispers into Horaku’s ear. “It will be better for the wait. I promise.” Horaku obliges with a slight shudder. Returning to 362 Krazik removes the blindfold. “I want you to look at me while I do this,” she says as she picks up the egg vibrator.

The sexy doctor hikes up her skirt and squats down with her legs spread wide before the restrained women's spread legs. She is indeed, panty free. Gently she rubs the vibrator around the edge of 362’s pussy. Unwilling to look her tormentor in the eye, 362 looks anywhere but down. Dr. Krizak simply smiles and continues her ministrations.

As the minutes go by, 362’s breathing begins to intensify, but she still will not look at her captor. Knowingly, the good doctor slips a finger inside a wet pussy. With a sharp intake of breath 362 snaps her head down. An evil smile graces the beautiful woman's face as her finger works it’s magic. She moves the vibrator to the top of 362’s pussy so that it can wiggle across her engorged love button.

Once again 362 pulls against her restraints. The sounds she’s making have changed however. Low moans replace sharp screens as Dr. Krizak finds her G-spot. The doctors movements intensify and 362 responds in kind. The moans become louder, more intense, more . Finally 362 cries out in pleasure, the first pleasure she has felt since her abduction.

“Nice work Doc. Machines good to go.”

“Are you certain Horaku? More data is always better.”

“Whatever you say Doc.” Horaku says with a smile. Dr. Krizak relocates the vibrator to her own dripping snatch and suckles 362’s clit while the unwilling test subject writhes in despair and pleasure.

---

Three orgasms later, two from 362 and one from the good doctor, the neural-rerouter is finally calibrated. Dr. Krizack reviews the data while Horaku finishes putting away the “instruments.” 362 can do nothing but recover in her bindings while the deranged researchers carry on their work. “So, Doc, I believe we established that my patience would be rewarded earlier.” he says suggestively.

“Hmm?” Krizak doesn’t look up from her notes. “Oh yes, help yourself.”

Horaku’s pants have hit the floor before she finishes her sentence. “Thank you!” His uncircumcised member erupts from a full bush and stands at attention. He nearly trips over his pants in his rush to penetrate the poor prisoner. “I’m going to crush that pussy!”

“Wait! Wait! Horaku!” Dr. Krizack leaps up with surprising agility and speed for someone wearing 6-inch heels and intercepts Horaku before he can have his way.

“Oh come on!” screams the pantless man. “I’ve been waiting to hit that since I snatched this bitch.” Both him and the doctor ignore the gagged pleas of 362.

“Yes, you’ve been an exemplar of self control,” responds the doctor, not yielding one inch. “Regardless, I need her vaginal tract uncontaminated for the next experiment.” 362 seems to calm herself for just a moment before Krizak finishes her thought. “Just put in her ass.”

Smiling, Horaku steps past the doctor and spits on his schlong. 362 frantically shakes her head back and forth as he rubs his pecker against her pucker. With a grunt, Horaku rams his dick home. Pain erupts as 362’s back door stretches to accommodate the unusually large invader.

Meanwhile Dr. Krizak returns to her terminal. “I suppose this is as good an opportunity as any to test the rerouter.” She types in a few keystrokes.

“NNNGGHN! NNNGGHH! Hmm?” With a start 362 looks down. Yes, Horaku is still penetrating her ass. She can feel him violently pounding her. But something is different. Her ass is still being stretched, she can feel Horaku far inside her rectum but the rubbing, the friction, the forceful entry, they all feel… good? Really good.

No, that can’t be right. She’s not that kind of girl. But still, her nipples are firm, her pussy moist with unwanted arousal. Horaku doesn’t stop, indeed, 362’s sudden confusion only seems to encourage him to new levels of vigor. “You like that ass-slut? You like that?” 362 shakes her head but her moans and her body give away the lie. Dr. Krizak appears behind 362’s head. Slender fingers find the subject’s nipples and gently roll them.

“I told you, this technique can generate quite a bit of pleasure. We just needed to map your nervous system first, and the best way to do that is to make you feel a lot. But now that we’ve done that, I can make you feel all sorts of things.” Krizak begins to massage 362’s breast. Pale delicate hands contrast against generous mounds of chocolate flesh. The doctors hands seem tiny as they tease 362's firm nipples. “For example, I kicked the part of your brain that feels arousal into overdrive and turned the inside of your ass into an erogenous zone.” 362 looks like she’s about to protest, but only moans in pleasure as Horaku shifts his angle of entry. “Unless I miss my mark, your about to have an ass-gasm.”

362 shakes her head in vain. It’s just too much for her. The dick in her ass feels so good! The sensations are just as intense as vaginal intercourse in spite of the circumstances. And the doctors hands! 362 had no problem believing that Krizak is a doctor because those are the hands of a surgeon. They expertly work her breasts, extracting pleasure with a precise efficiency. It’s all too much. Her heart races, her moans grow louder, her muscles tense. She releases her pleasure in one deep moan that fills the corridors outside the lab, joining the chorus of lust and pain that fills those halls.

“OHHH GODS!” Bellows Horaku in the same moment.

“HHNNNNNNN!” The two orgasm in unison. 362 squirts all over Horaku as his seed fills her rectum. They both shudder and Horaku nearly collapses on top of the bound women. He desperately grabs her knees, still locked into the stirrups, for support.

“Oh gods, I’m lightheaded. I need a minute.” He pulls out and trickle of cum leaks out of 362’s ass. For her part she is staring blankly up at the ceiling, breathing deeply as her mind slowly recovers from the intense pleasure upon it. Surely 362 has had a better orgasm, but in the moment, she is unable remember when such a happy occasion occurred.

Dr. Krizak smiles, pleased with her handiwork. “Horaku, if you would be so kind as to get us a dolly, I believe the next experiment 362 will be helping us with should be prepared.” When he only nods breathlessly in response, the Dr. Krizak follow up with, “Whenever you’re ready.”

---

Fifteen minutes later 362 is tied to a hand truck and being pushed down the hallway towards the next “experiment.” The dolly was originally made for transporting psych patients who were a danger to themselves and to others. Built in cuffs lock around her ankles and her hands, while a leather strap goes across her waist, forcing her against the cart back. The effect is that she to stand upright with her hands at her side while she is rolled down the hall, pushed by Horaku. Although the neural-rerouter has been removed, 362 still feels a residual horniness, that Dr. Krizak assures her will wear off in the next few hours. “Now,” Krizak says consulting her notes as she walks alongside the pair, “During your introduction I mentioned the Senegol. I’m not sure how much of the news you’ve been following, but I’m certain you at least know the broad strokes regarding this species. That over the past few years, there have been a series of border clashes against this hostile alien race who raid our outer colonies, seemingly at random, and then disappear. They use technology that even one such as myself can barely understand. Most disturbing, they seem to reproduce by implanting eggs into the wombs of compatible species, which hatch after a brief gestation period and are born from the unfortunate mother.” 362, correctly predicting her fate, moans through her gag.

“What you most likely do not know is that this is all we know. While a few enterprising and admittedly clever tinkerers have manipulated some of their technology to produce toys such as the tentacle grenades, the fundamentals of their technology, escape us. They show no interest in communications other than to call for the surrender of those they fight, we have no idea where they come from, and we have no inkling of their motives. They are in short the greatest enigma of our age.” The trio stops in front a large security door. Taking off her glasses, Dr. Krizak steps up to a retinal scanner, which beeps green after a moment's consideration. The heavy door, easily a foot thick, slowly rises to admit the doctor and her companions.

The room inside contains a row of computer interfaces, a table with associated chairs, and a coffee maker. The far wall has an open door that leads to a plain white room. Horaku wheels the squirming 362 in front of the open door while the doctor keeps monologuing. “I have undertaken it upon myself to solve the mystery the Senegol represent. I must say they are a puzzle worthy of my towering intellect. Unfortunately, finding Senegol to study is, problematic.” Horaku unbuckles the waist strap. “The good news is, once you find one Senegol, it is relatively easy to produce more. You just need to find them a suitable womb. Apparently loneliness is quite an aphrodisiac.”

“NGGHHH! ‘EEES!”

“Don’t worry, it’s nowhere nearly as painful as human childbirth. The little buggers just slide right out after three weeks.” The cuffs unlock and Horaku pushes 362 through the door which promptly closes behind her.

Dr. Krazik taps a few buttons on a terminal. “Computer, activate one way transparency on observation side wall,” she states. With a flicker the wall separating the researchers and 362 becomes see-through, including the door. The new room has sterile, white walls, ceiling and floors. It lacks furniture of any kind.

362 immediately removes her gag and starts to call for help. At least, Horaku and Dr. Krizak assume it’s help. They can only observe her through the one way wall, but the signs of panic are apparent. Alone in the empty room, the black beauty slowly starts to inspect her new surroundings. “I love how you let the anticipation build,” Horaku says as he pours two cups of coffee. The doctor accepts the offered cup and toast her assistant.

“I told you, some things are better for the wait,” the doctor replies with a smile. “Computer, activate two way transparency, containment wall. The wall in the white room opposite the door flickers to transparency. On the other side an apex predator, an adult Senagol, stalks back and forth in all his predatory glory.

The Senagol has a long serpentine body with six different groups of tentacles sprouting from it. Four groups of three tentacles appear where the legs would appear on a terrestrial mammal or reptile. The Senagol walks on all four although as soon as the wall becomes transparent, it stands on its hind tentacles, reaching an intimidating 8 feet in height. A head missing any features except for a lamprey like mouth immediately focuses on 362. The last two tentacle groups emerge from half way between the first four and are much smaller than the “leg tentacles." Most terrifying from 362’s perspective at least, is the long, phallic ovipositor tentacle, which emerges from the creatures “pelvis.”

There is no need to hear 362’s scream to know that it is there. Her body languages convey her fear just as well as her lungs do. She backs against the door, her mouth wide open in a silent cry. She turns and pounds her fist against the door.

“Please! Let me out! Please!” Her lips make the words but no noise passes through the sealed chamber. Horaku stands on the opposite side. “What’s that? I can’t hear you. Speak up.” He chuckles and waves.

“Computer, open containment wall.” As the transparent wall rises, the tentacled monstrosity slips under it and is upon 362 with shocking speed. Three tentacles lash around 362’s neck and both arms, stopping them mid pound and pulling her back toward the ovipositor tentacle. Another three loop around waist and her legs and lift her up. She screams and squirms as the Senagol examines her. It does so entirely by touch, the smaller tentacles slithering over every aspect of her body.

They tease around the edge of her nipples, in between her ass cheeks and pull apart her labia. As her arms are brutally pulled behind her and secured by one tentacle, a free one begins striking her as though a whip. 362’s face contorts with pain. Finally, the ovipositor thrusts inside her.

“So,” Dr. Krizak, pulling up a calendar on her terminal. “Those eggs will hatch in three weeks so we’ll put her in the milking facility until the 12th. Then I think I want to run some more neural rerouting tests on her. I can almost make it so that the test subjects will continue to feel the effects of neural-rerouting well after removing the hardware. Soon, I’ll be able to connect the pleasure and pain centers of the brain permanently and-”

“Doc,” says Horaku incredulously. “Slow down a bit. Take a moment to enjoy your work.” He gestures at the helpless 362 as the Senagol snakes its head around and begins to suck on one of her tits.”

“Progress marches on,” she admonishes. She does however look up for a moment. “Still, it’s good to love what you do.” An ominous bulge moves up the Senagol’s ovipositor tentacle into 362.