Sunday afternoon found Kelly walking through the familiar doors of the university psychology lab once more, this time for her scheduled follow-up appointment. As she approached the reception desk, she felt a mix of emotions – anticipation, nervousness, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment knowing what lay ahead.
“Number 112, please sign in,” the receptionist said briskly, barely looking up from her computer screen.
Kelly scribbled her number on the clipboard before taking a seat in the waiting area. It wasn’t long before the nurse emerged, clipboard in hand, and called out, “Subject 112, we’re ready for you now.”
As Kelly followed the nurse down the short hallway to the examination rooms, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Everything about this experience felt so similar to her initial visit – the same sterile corridors, the same faint scent of antiseptic in the air.
Once inside the exam room, the nurse turned to Kelly with a professional smile. “Please remove all your clothing, Subject 112. We’ll be continuing our testing today.”
As Kelly began to undress, the nurse’s eyes landed on the open-cup bra Kelly was wearing. A hint of amusement played across her features as she raised an eyebrow.
“Aw, are you having trouble wearing normal bras? We actually provide specialized lingerie for our test subjects that are designed to accommodate sensitive breasts. Would you like me to bring some options later?”
Kelly hesitated a moment as she thought. When she had started wearing her open-cup bra, it was due to necessity, not preference. And she realized if she was going to continue being a test subject, that finding a better long-term solution would likely be wise.
“Yes, I think that would be helpful.”
As Kelly prepared to sit down on the examination table, the nurse suddenly stopped her with a gentle touch on the arm. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said apologetically, turning to retrieve something from a nearby cabinet.
When she returned, the nurse was holding a thin, absorptive paper pad. Without a word, she placed it squarely on the surface of the examination table, smoothing out any wrinkles before gesturing for Kelly to take a seat.
Kelly’s heart sank as the implication became clear. Her face burning with humiliation, she wanted desperately to protest or offer some excuse, anything to salvage what remained of her dignity. But then her mind flashed back to her previous visit – the wet spot she’d left on the table from her arousal, the way Dr. James had collected a sample of her juices.
Remembering that mortifying incident made Kelly’s stomach twist into knots. She knew, deep down, that the nurse’s actions were entirely justified given the circumstances. They had every reason to anticipate that Kelly might become aroused during this session as well, and taking precautions was simply practical.
But knowing it was logical didn’t make it any less humiliating. With a sense of resignation, she slowly sat down on the pad, wincing inwardly at the crinkling sound it made beneath her.
As Dr. James entered the exam room, Kelly felt a flutter in her chest, though whether from anxiety or anticipation she couldn’t quite say. The doctor barely acknowledged her presence, his eyes immediately focusing on the task at hand as he began his standard breast inspection.
His hands moved deftly over her skin, palpating each breast in turn, examining every contour and curve with detached interest. It struck Kelly as somewhat surreal that this intimate contact no longer felt particularly unusual. In fact, she realized with a start, it almost felt… normal.
A brief moment of internal questioning arose – Shouldn’t she be more upset about being handled so casually? Why wasn’t she protesting or feeling more violated by these clinical examinations?
But those doubts were quickly silenced as Kelly reminded herself of her role here. She was Subject 112, a participant in a scientific study. This was what she’d signed up for – to be studied, measured, and analyzed. It was only logical that parts of the process would feel strange or uncomfortable at first, but that didn’t mean she should stop now.
Just as Kelly was starting to relax into the examination, Dr. James made a comment that brought her back to full attention. “Subject 112’s nipples appear to have elongated by approximately 2 millimeters since our last session,” he murmured, making a note on his clipboard. “This is a marginal change but certainly promising.”
Kelly felt a surge of mixed emotions at his words. On one hand, she was relieved to know that her suspicions had been correct – her nipples were indeed getting longer, just as she’d thought when examining herself at home. But on the other hand, there was something disquieting about hearing confirmation that her body was changing in response to these pumping sessions.
For now, though, Kelly pushed aside those worries and focused solely on the sensations coursing through her breasts beneath Dr. James’ skilled hands.
As Dr. James concluded his inspection, Kelly expected him to step back or perhaps prepare some new piece of equipment for the next phase of testing. Instead, to her surprise, he reached out and grasped each of her nipples between his thumb and forefinger, pinching them firmly yet considerately.
Before Kelly could even process this unexpected contact, Dr. James began manipulating her breasts in a way that left her breathless with shock. He pulled each breast in slow circles, stretching the sensitive skin taut before releasing it. Then, with a gentle yet firm touch, he started jiggling her breasts from side to side, causing her nipples to bounce in time with his movements.
Kelly felt a wave of intense humiliation wash over her as the doctor was seemingly playing with her nipples and breasts like they were toys. Her first instinct was to burst out in protest, demanding that he stop this degrading treatment at once. But something about Dr. James’ demeanor held her back – despite the unceremonious way he was handling her, there was still an air of professionalism surrounding him, a sense that he was simply doing his job without any ulterior motives.
That clinical detachment, combined with Kelly’s own growing acceptance of her role as a test subject, stayed her tongue. She bit back the urge to object, instead focusing on the strange sensations coursing through her body as Dr. James continued his manipulations. It was both deeply embarrassing and strangely arousing, her mind struggling to reconcile these conflicting emotions.
As abruptly as he’d begun, Dr. James ceased his breast manipulations, leaving Kelly feeling somewhat stunned. The sudden cessation of stimulation made her realize just how surreal the past few moments had been – here she was, sitting naked in an examination room while a virtual stranger played with her breasts like they were stress balls.
Breaking the silence, Kelly asked tentatively, “Um… what was the purpose of… that?”
Dr. James barely looked up from his notes as he replied, “A bit of conditioning during each session is good for test subjects.” He said it so matter-of-factly that it took Kelly a moment to register what he had said.
Conditioning? What did he mean by that exactly? Was she being trained to respond to certain stimuli or behave in specific ways? The questions swirled in her mind but before she could give them much thought, something else caught her attention.
Across the room, Dr. James was busily preparing the breast pump machine, carefully calibrating settings and checking connections. At the sight of the familiar cylinders, Kelly felt a jolt of anticipation run through her. Despite everything that had just transpired, despite her lingering confusion over Dr. James’ words, she couldn’t deny the growing excitement building within her.
She knew what was coming next, and her body seemed to be eagerly awaiting it. The prospect of having those gentle suction cups attached to her nipples once more, of feeling that rhythmic tugging deep within her chest, filled her with a heady mix of desire and nervousness.
As she watched Dr. James work, Kelly found herself shifting slightly on the examination table, her thighs pressing together involuntarily. She tried to focus on her breathing, hoping to calm the flutter in her stomach, but it was no use. Her body had already begun responding to the promise of pleasure to come, and nothing could stem that tide now.
As Dr. James approached with the breast pump cylinders, Kelly couldn’t help but feel a twinge of self-reproach. A part of her mind chided her for being so eager to anticipate this sensation, for craving something that just last week would have seemed unthinkable.
But as soon as the cool plastic cylinders made contact with her skin, those doubts began to melt away. The audible “pop” as the suction cups sealed around her nipples sent a shiver down her spine, and she found the sound oddly satisfying – a confirmation that everything was in place and working as intended.
With the gentle hum of the machine filling the air, Kelly closed her eyes and focused on the subtle tug of the suction. It was both familiar and comforting at this point, like slipping into a warm bath or curling up with a favorite blanket.
Dr. James adjusted the settings on the breast pump, selecting a deep, slow rhythmic mode that pulled firmly on Kelly’s nipples. The suction cups gripped her tightly, holding the vacuum for several seconds before releasing, only to repeat the cycle again. The sensation was intense, bordering on painful, and Kelly felt her breath catch in her throat.
At first, the discomfort threatened to overwhelm her. Her natural instinct was to try and pull away, to somehow escape the relentless tug on her sensitive buds. But then she remembered her first experience with the pump – how the initial pain had given way to pleasure, how her body had adapted and even grown to crave this stimulation.
Summoning that memory, Kelly made a conscious effort to relax into the sensation. She told herself that this discomfort was temporary, that it would soon transform into the delicious arousal she’d come to associate with these sessions. As the machine continued its steady work, Kelly focused all her attention on her nipples and breasts, letting every other thought or distraction fall away.
In her mind, she repeated a silent mantra: This is what’s best for me. I want to be a good test subject. I can handle this.
With each passing moment, Kelly felt herself becoming more centered, more grounded in the physical sensations coursing through her body. The world narrowed down to the gentle whoosh of the pump, the deep tug on her nipples, and the warmth spreading steadily through her chest.
She began to anticipate the next pulse of the pump, her body tensing slightly in expectation before relaxing as the suction released. The discomfort didn’t exactly fade away, but it became manageable, even welcome. Kelly realized that she was actually starting to enjoy this intense stimulation, her nipples hardening further as they stretched taut within the cylinders.
As the minutes ticked by, Kelly found herself slipping deeper into a trance-like state. Her mind wasn’t foggy or unfocused; rather, it was as if all her mental energy had become concentrated solely on the sensations in her breasts. She felt fully present, yet somehow detached from everything else around her.
Unbeknownst to Kelly, Dr. James and the nurse were observing her closely, taking note of her responses to the intense pumping. Today’s session had a specific purpose – to gauge the effects of prolonged stimulation on her cognitive faculties, particularly her inhibitions and willingness to comply.
“Subject 112,” Dr. James said, his voice low and even, “can you tell me if you’ve missed any pumping sessions since your last visit?”
Kelly responded without hesitation, her voice clear and steady. “No, I haven’t missed a single one.”
The nurse stepped forward, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Good girl,” she cooed, patting Kelly gently on the shoulder. “You should be very proud of yourself for being so diligent with your pumping routine. Not many subjects show such dedication.”
In her current state of heightened suggestibility, Kelly absorbed the nurse’s words like a sponge. The praise struck a deep chord within her, filling her with a sense of accomplishment and pride. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d been craving positive reinforcement until that moment.
Dr. James leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked intently on Kelly as he asked, “Can you tell me, Subject 112, have you experienced any difficulties or challenges with your daily pumping regimen?”
Without hesitation, Kelly began recounting her experiences over the past week. “Well, it’s become a big part of my daily routine now,” she explained, her voice steady and matter-of-fact. “I pump every morning during breakfast and again every evening before bed. It’s gotten to the point where I feel… off if I don’t do it at those times.”
She paused briefly before continuing, seemingly oblivious to the intimate nature of the details she was sharing. “To be honest, my anticipation of the sessions drives me to be really consistent. If I think I might miss one, I start feeling anxious. Like, I had to leave a study group early last week because I knew I needed to get home and pump – it was pretty embarrassing, actually.”
The nurse nodded encouragingly, jotting down some notes on her clipboard. Dr. James simply waited for Kelly to continue, his expression neutral.
“Also,” Kelly added, “my nipples have become so sore and sensitive that regular bras hurt too much. So I’ve started wearing this open-cup bra instead…” She gestured vaguely towards her chest, as if it should be obvious. “It leaves my nipples exposed but at least they’re not pressed against anything.”
“I can feel every little movement throughout the day,” Kelly went on, describing the sensations in vivid detail. “When I walk or reach for something, my nipples rub against my shirt and it… it stimulates them, I guess. It’s weird because sometimes it’s really annoying, like when I’m trying to focus in class. But other times, especially when I’m alone, it feels kind of… nice.”
Dr. James’ next question cut through the air, his tone remaining clinical despite the intimate subject matter. “Subject 112, have you engaged in any self-stimulation or masturbation during your pumping sessions?”
Kelly didn’t hesitate before answering, her words tumbling out in a candid stream. “Well, yeah, I did… the first night I got the pump, actually.” She sounded almost sheepish, but her eyes remained fixed on Dr. James, unflinching.
“I was just so… aroused after using it, and I couldn’t help myself. I ended up… um… masturbating while it was still attached. It felt amazing – I’ve never experienced anything quite like it before.”
Dr. James’ next question hung in the air, waiting for Kelly’s response. “Did you reach orgasm during that initial self-stimulation session, Subject 112?”
For the first time since the questioning began, Kelly hesitated. Her eyes darted briefly towards the nurse before returning to Dr. James, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. Memories flooded back unbidden – lying naked on her bed, fingers working frantically between her legs as the breast pump continued its relentless work; the way her climax had crashed over her like a wave, leaving behind undeniable evidence of her intense pleasure.
The recollection sent a jolt through Kelly, threatening to snap her out of her tranquil reverie. She felt a familiar surge of humiliation wash over her at the thought of sharing such intimate details aloud, especially considering how messy things got afterwards.
A tiny spark of anxiety ignited within her chest, causing Kelly’s breath to catch momentarily. But even as embarrassment threatened to overwhelm her, something else pushed firmly against those uncomfortable emotions. The steady rhythm of the breast pump seemed to deepen, each pulse sending waves of calm washing outward from her breasts until they enveloped her entire body once more.
As the machine worked its magic, coaxing away tension with every gentle tug on her nipples, Kelly found herself slipping smoothly into acceptance again. While still acknowledging how mortifying confessing would be, a part of Kelly’s subconscious began to shift towards justifying why she needed to reveal the truth.
She had been the one to volunteer for this study after all… and as subject 112 didn’t Dr. James have the right to know important facts as they related to his experiment?
Taking a deep breath, Kelly launched into a detailed description of her orgasmic experience, despite the lingering discomfort she still felt about sharing such private matters.
“It… um… it was really intense,” she began, her voice steady but slightly softer than before. “I’d never felt anything quite like it. As I was using the pump and touching myself, I could feel this… this growing pressure inside me, like my whole lower half was getting hotter and tighter until…”
Kelly paused briefly, collecting her thoughts before continuing. “Until suddenly it just released. My body started shaking and my pussy… it just squirted everywhere. I mean, I’ve heard of that happening to some women during orgasm, but I never thought it would happen to me.”
She looked down at her hands, fidgeting slightly with the sheets. “It was so embarrassing. There was this huge puddle on my bed, and I just felt… ashamed, I guess. Like my body had betrayed me or something.”
“I tried to clean it up as best I could,” Kelly went on, her cheeks flushing even deeper. “But afterwards… well, I couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt. How good it had felt, despite the mess.”
The nurse’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she listened to Kelly’s graphic description of her orgasmic experience. When the young woman finished speaking, the nurse couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle.
“Oh dear, sounds like we made the right call putting you on an absorbent pad today!” She said brightly patting Kelley shoulder while looking towards James. “Wouldn’t want any accidents in front of Dr. here now would we?”
Dr. James simply nodded, making no comment though his gaze flickered down toward where the protective covering crinkled softly under Kelly’s weight on the table. “With Subject 112’s heightened sensitivity & obvious arousal tendencies it does seem prudent for us to take such precautions moving…