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Chapter 31 by RedEmpire RedEmpire

Does she let you orgasm?

Yes, she lets you cum.

"Good girl" she pats your smooth pubic mound encouragingly. "We need you to orgasm to ensure the device is calibrated effectively."

"t-t--t-tt---thank... y-y--y-yy-y-yy-yy--youuuuu." You manage through your chattering teeth.

Your stiff clit continues to vibrate angrily in the cold air of the surgical clinic. You are bound so tightly you almost can't move. You arch your back off the chair and thrust your perky little breasts into the air.

"EEeeEEEeeeEeeeeEEEEEeeeeEEEEeeeEEeeeeeeh!" Every muscle within your little body convulses within the confines of your restraints and your screams echo off the hard walls of the lab. Your sex clamps so tightly you think your womb might be ripped from the walls of your core.

"ArrrrrRRrrRrrrrgh.....ArrrrrrrrRrrrrrgh.......uurrrrurrrghghh..." you gurgle under the ****.

The girl scribbles notes. Her eyes occasionally lifting from her clipboard and scanning your body as it is ravaged under the **** of your augment. There is no escape. Your eyes unfocus and you give in to the best and worst experience of your short 18 years.

Slowly you begin to come down from your orgasm but the internal vibrator does not stop.

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

The sound is angry and harsh. the increased quantity of nerves cloned within your clit aggravates you further. The feeling is unbearable within your overstimulated clit.

"No...." you beg up at her, "I'm going to die..."

"Girl," she responds with the coldness of a clinician, "You've only experienced a taste."

Your eyes widen in understanding. Helpless. Your heart pounds with a **** that might rupture your rib cage. You might black out...

...and then, NOTHING. The buzzing sound ends. Your augment is deactivated.

"Uuuuuuggrrrghh!" You helplessly wail. You are an exhausted panting mess. Your little breasts rise and fall with your rapid short breaths. You blush suddenly aware of how soaked you are. Sweat coats every surface of your skin and the padding of the hospital chair is slick with your sexual juices.

"Are we done?" you plead.

What does she do?

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