The Trotsky Experiment Ch. 01


Dr. Trotsky checked his patient one more time. She was primed. It was the fifth nymphomaniac he had the pleasure to work with. The research was being done for a very private client who had too much money to spend, and a penchant for sexual sadism. The proposal for research was very simple: A nymphomaniac would be selected and he or she would be starved sexually for a week. This meant that not only would the nympho have no sexual contact with others, but he/she would also not have the option of relieving themself- i.e. masturbating.

That was the difficult part- how to make sure they did not touch themselves. After a conference during which ideas were discussed, it was decided by the seven person research team that the patient would be handcuffed for the duration of the week, only allowed to eat and go the bathroom twice a day under the surveillance of two rather large lab assistants who would make sure no touching occurred. For the women, leather chastity belts would also be used to guarantee no rubbing against chairs or other surfaces.

The latest patient was the most ardent of the group they’d studied so far. She was a 36-year-old female who couldn’t keep her legs closed. She had been divorced twice because neither of her husbands could satisfy her huge sexual appetite. She was made to quit her job as an accountant because if she wasn’t trying to feed her very strong sexual hunger with one of the employees, she was trying to quench it herself with the use of her fingers or other office supplies. The last straw for her former employer was when he walked into her room and office and found the very talented accountant rubbing herself with the butt of the stapler, stifling her moans against her fist.

Dr. Trotsky studied her, as she stood hand-cuffed with leather restraints to the padded white wall of her room. It had been quite a week for both her, and the team of researchers. Seven days ago, she had walked in of her own will- standing tall and elegant in a tight black skirt that skimmed her knees and a stylish chiffon blouse that did little to hide her curves. The black pumps and stockings completed her business look. She had walked into his office, dropped her Chanel tote on his desk, and lit a cigarette with the words, “My name is Marina Sazonsky and I need you to cure me doctor.”

He looked at her now- a far cry from the poised, confident woman of seven days ago. She sat leaning against the white padded wall, hands held back with leather restraints. There was an animal-like look about her- her short black hair was wild and damp with perspiration. Her huge breasts were encased in a leather bra so that her nipples could not be stimulated easily and the chastity belt held her snugly from below, almost like tight leather underwear. She sat with her back against the wall, spread-eagled, moaning softly.

Yes, indeed, it had been a long week. While most of the other patients who came seemed to have insatiable sexual appetites for emotional reasons, this one was different. Her appetite seemed to stem from some imbalance of hormones. She had been showing some very strong withdrawal symptoms the last few days. It had gotten to the point that she had refused to eat since the morning, throwing the food at the attendants and growling primaly.

It was time to implement the last phase of the experiment. Today would be the day he’d let her have her ‘relief’. In the forms she had filled out in the beginning of the experiment, she had emphasized her heterosexuality claiming that she had never experimented with a woman and she refused to even contemplate the idea. She had even asked Dr. Trotsky if it was a part of the experiment, telling him that if it was, she would walk out of the research center that minute. Dr. Trotsky told her it wasn’t- he didn’t care about introducing his already sexually hungry patients to more options. But it was too tempting today. It simply had to be done.

The ‘clean-up’ attendants had taken care of her earlier in the day. The two heavy-set research assistants had bathed her, taking care to sponge her aggressively so as not to arouse her more than she was aroused. Marina seemed to have relished even those systematic, impersonal touches. She was then waxed, very thoroughly. Every hair removed from her vagina. Gretska, the attendant, was professional and swift, not making it overly painful or gentle. Finally, she was put into the leather bra and underwear and was made to wait.

The other room was being prepared. It consisted of only a very large bed covered with an expensive cotton sheet of cool gray, with three large matching pillows. The room was heavily carpetted three of the walls were a deep maroon in color. The fourth wall consisted of long toiletry table over which hung a long mirror taking up half the wall. This was actually a window where Dr. Trotsky’s staff could stand watching the proceedings. On this table were certain… tools. A leather belt, leather handcuffs, and a large black cylindrical object that could not be mistaken for anything but a dildo. The room was softly lit, with bahis siteleri hidden yellow lights. It was Dr. Trotsky’s tribute to romance- not that the patients needed any.

He watched from behind the mirror as the only door leading into the room opened presently, and two attendants ushered in the main player in the last phase of the experiment- Leona. It was a new person every week. For the men, it was a busty woman. For the women, it was a muscular man. For Marina, it would be Leona. He watched Leona with satisfaction as the attendants ushered her to the large bed and left to go. She was dressed in a simple black dress with a rather large decolletage, her ample bosom heaving out as she took deep breaths to steady herself. Dr. Trotsky sensed her fear even from behind the mirror. She was shivering and her hand shook unsteadily as she reached to move a lock of blonde hair from in front of her exquisite face.

“Leona, please do not be afraid. No one will hurt you.” I hope. He thought silently to himself. Leona had jumped at the sound of his voice as it reached her through hidden loudspeakers in the room. Her turquoise eyes grew even wider with fear and she looked around to see where the voice was coming from. Standing in the middle of the room, she looked almost demure, with the long black dress and the fear. Her eyes skimmed across her own image in the mirror and she suddenly knew where Dr. Trotsky was.

“Doctor, we will be bringing in the patient in a moment.” Dr. Trotsky nodded at young Dr. Mason and made himself comfortable in the chair he usually selected for this part of the experiment, making sure he had his notebook and pen.


Marina was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. She was tired of restraints, tired of the sexual deprivation- tired of life. She knew that if this was not the last day of the experiment she did not want to continue. She cursed herself silently as she remembered the release form she had signed, essentially signing herself over to the psychopaths who had not even let her masturbate. She knew only vaguely that today she would be allowed to have her bliss. She dreamed of how it would happen, where she would put her fingers when the last restraint was taken off… Even balding, cold Dr. Trotsky was looking good.

The attendants came. In a blur she was lifted off the ground, the restraints taken off, and they clutched both of her arms, ushering her out of the room like jailors with a very dangerous prisoner. She didn’t care where they were taking her, she was beyond reason, beyond emotion.

She was shoved peremptorily into a dark room. She turned back to look for the attendants but the door slammed in her face. She turned back to look at the room, her eyes adjusting to the new lighting. She had been under bright white lights for a week now, so this lighting threw her off for a few moments. As she touched her left wrist with her right hand for the first time in weeks, her raging sexual hunger once again peaked and she moaned inwardly. Just as she was going to make her way to the large bed, she noticed a figure standing near the mirror on her right.

“Dr. Trotsky?” She asked. Marina didn’t recognize her own voice, it was harsh and angry. The figure didn’t answer and she moved closer to get a better look. Maybe it was a gift from Trotsky? A man to relieve her, perhaps? She stopped short a yard away from the figure- it was a woman.


Leona wondered what she had gotten into. How could she have known, when she answered the advertisement in the weekly paper for ‘curvaceous, lovely models’ that this is where she would end up? The moment she stepped into the building, she knew this job would involve more than a little bit of modelling, and she did not mind. This room, this situation, however, was completely beyond her wildest imaginings. What would be required of her? She expected someone would want sex some time, but the last thing she had expected was this wild-eyed woman.


Understanding dawned on Marina as she glared at the woman in the black dress. She remembered specifically telling Trotsky that she did not do women. The idea was revolting- a week ago. Her sexual frustration turned into a silent rage and she assessed the situation quickly. It was a big bed, a good room… a sexy woman, and she needed to do this.

“So Trotsky wants to see if I’ll do you or I’ll take more of his torture?” She asked the figure harshly.

“I don’t know- I… I… don’t go with women. I don’t know what they want from me!” Leona shook and took a step back, turning to look imploringly at the mirror.

“Bitch. You think I do go with women?!” Marina spat with contempt. She took a step forward and reached out for a handful of blonde hair, pulling it hard, leading the young woman to the bed. “Ahhhhh!” Leona cried out, tears quickly filling her eyes. “You’re hurting me! I don’t know what they want!” She repeated helplessly as she fell back on the bed. It was a large bed and she quickly turned over and tried to crawl up towards the head canlı bahis siteleri board, her wide hips and buttocks rising desperately under the heavy material of the dress.

Marina was furious and frustrated- like a child who had been locked up for a week and promised a pony and now was facing a goat. She would abuse the goat. She reached down viciously and grabbed Leona’s ankle, halting her progress towards the headboard, she dragged her back mercilessly. Leona fell flat, her face and bosom on the bed, her cries muffled as she was dragged towards the foot by the woman who seemed to have super-human strength.

Marina watched as the dress rode up around the bitch’s curvy hips and the ample ass appeared, covered in lacey panties. She couldn’t help herself- her hand came down hard and swift on the white of the left buttock. “Eiiiiiiii!” The bitch cried out, wriggling with pain. Her left ankle was caught in the vice-like grip of the mad woman in the leather. “Please STOP! What do you want???”

Marina shoved Leona and turned her over, to look her in the tear stained face. Her frustration grew as she saw the pouty lips shaking and she slapped the shocked young woman. “I WANT RELIEF!” She growled angrily. Not only had they brought her a woman- they had brought her one who wasn’t a lesbian- one who would not relieve her. Marina reached for the bodice of Leona’s black dress with both hands and pulled, tearing it across the chest. Leona shrieked and tried to cover her black satin clad breasts with an arm.

“Get it away, bitch.” Marina yanked her arm away and looked down at the large breasts in front of her, straining against the thin black satin. She raised an arm, wanting to slap the large white slope of the left breast when something caught her eye. The tops of Leona’s large aureoles began to appear as she sobbed, chest heaving. Her large nipples almost poked out of the satin. “So bitch,” Marina whispered harshly, “This turns you on, does it?” Marina lowered her head and took a nipple between her lips through the satin.

Leona froze as she felt Marina lowering herself on her breasts. Her left nipple was between the monster’s lips and she felt the pressure of her teeth. Marina bit down, first gently, then harder and was rewarded with a cry coming from above. She released the pressure on Leona’s left nipple and reached for her right nipple with her thumb and forefinger, twisting it. Leona wiggled under her, and tried to push her off- she just bit harder. Marina raised her head only long enough to hiss, “If you try to push me off, I swear I’ll bite it off, bitch.” Leona paused her struggle and cried. “Please don’t hurt me- I’ll do it. I’ll do what you want… I’ll… Ahhmmmmmmmm…” Her sentence was cut off with a low moan as Marina clasped the left nipple again through the satin between her lips and this time sucked on it hard. She felt the nipple grow, elongate under her tongue and she listened as the bitch’s breathing grew heavier and more labored.

Leona took a deep, ragged breath. This wasn’t right. She shouldn’t be aroused. She was being assaulted by a mad woman! She gasped as she felt Marina lower the satin bra roughly so that her breasts were fully exposed, the black satin encasing them from below and pushing them up higher and gathering them closer.

Marina looked down at the large pale breasts in front of her. They were a creamy white, blotched with pink where Marina had pinched and squeezed. The nipples were longer than any Marina had seen. “Get up higher on the bed.” Marina said hoarsely. Leona sniffed and moved herself up the bed, towards the pillows. “Lay on the pillow, and put your arms by your side.” Leona lay stiffly on the pillow, watching Marina warily. Her arms lay by her side, fists clenched. Marina turned to the toiletry table and reached for the leather belt. Leona went rigid and crossed her arms across chest, “Please don’t hurt me…”

“YOUR ARMS BY YOUR SIDE!” Marina growled. Leona’s arms returned to her sides and she wimpered. Marina moved up the large bed and examined the figure in front of her. She reached for the tattered edges of the dress and continued to tear it down Leona’s body until she was completely exposed. She looked down at the curvaceous pale body, clad in only a pair of satin panties and the bra bunched up under the large breasts. Marina rose on her knees and straddled the young terrified woman. She brought her knees down firmly against Leona’s arms, pinning them to her side. Marina moaned inwardly as her leather encased crotch came into contact with Leona’s soft skin above her mound.

Leona watched the mad woman as she straddled her. She felt the pressure of Marina’s knees on her hands and the moisture and heat emanating from her crotch. Marina looked at the large round breasts infront of her. She rubbed her palms roughly against Leona’s hard nipples and watched as Leona’s expression went from fear, to ecstasy, to fear once again as Marina brought out the leather belt once more.

Marina pulled the left breast up by the nipple. güvenilir bahis She wrapped the leather belt first around the left breast and then gathered the right one and continued to wrap the belt around them both. In a matter of moments, the two large breasts were gathered together in a bundle, the nipples only a couple of inches apart. Leona looked on, stupified, not sure what to expect from the perspiring mad woman above her.

Satisfied with her work, Marina reached out to flick a taut nipple with a wet finger. Leona groaned as the cool air hit the wet nipple. She clenched her eyes shut, and bit a lip, needing to feel more stimulation. Marina lowered herself slowly, closing her lips around the left nipple and sucking hard. She kept her eyes on Leona’s face and watched as she bit her lips harder, moaning long and low. Marina tightened the belt and brought the two nipples closer, lifted her head and brought her wide mouth around both nipples, which she had gathered even closer together. She sucked harder and harder, only stopping to bite down gently with her teeth every few seconds.

It was becoming increasingly difficult for Leona to keep her hands at her sides- not out of fear, but out of the need to press Marina closer. Marina smiled to herself as the groaning grew louder under her. She bit down harder and stopped only when she heard a low, “Ahhhhh…” after which she rose slightly to blow on the nipples and lowered herself once again to suck them. The breasts were red with all the attention they were getting and Marina continued to treat them to rough sucking, biting and a gentle slap every now and then.

Marina couldn’t understand it- she had momentarily forgotten herself and her needs. She started out wanting to hurt the weak, feminine figure lying under her- wanting to abuse her sensitive breasts- but suddenly, she couldn’t get enough. She left the nipples a moment and lowered her face into the deep crevice between the closely gathered breasts, licking and sucking the skin, nearly smothering herself between Leona’s mounds, and lying there for just a moment, inhaling the smell of skin. Leona moaned and tried to raise her hips as she felt the moisture gathering below. She wondered at why Marina was suddenly gentle- buried in between breasts which seemed to overflow from her rough fingers.

Leona could no longer stand it, she needed to touch something, grasp something. She moved an arm and managed to slip it out from under Marina for a moment, only to be bitten roughly on the underside of her breast. “I told you to keep your arms to your sides, bitch.”

Marina straightened up and got off the woman under her. She studied the figure and noticed that a moist patch was spreading against Leona’s panties. She smirked, “So you’ve never done it before with a woman and yet you’re wet.” Marina reached down and cupped Leona’s mound, digging two fingers in roughly through the panties. Leona groaned and raised her hips to meet Marina’s hand. Slap! Marina’s other hand came down against Leona’s soft, white tummy. “Stay down!”

Marina traced her fingers across the delicate material of the panties and pulled them up at the sides so the crotch went up into Leona’s outer vaginal lips. The lips pouted out, framing the black material and Leona clenched her teeth. Marina reached roughly for the belt gathering Leona’s big breasts and then she shoved the woman on her shoulder. “Turn over on your stomach.”

It was an order Leona was not going to argue with. She turned over and lay with her damp cheek pressed against the bed, eyes warily on Marina at her side. Marina studied the flawless back, with only the black bra across it and her eyes wandered to the ample backside, the panties making only a small triangle across the large, smoothe buttocks. Marina clutched the panties at the top and pulled up so that the triangle bunched up into a wide string and disappeared between Leona’s ass cheeks. She pulled hard and felt Leona clench up as the panties rode up higher into her ass.

Marina focused on the expanse of ass in front of her and scratched her nails gently across first the left buttock, then the right one. She heard Leona groan. Slowly she lowered herself until her lips were only an inch away from the left buttock and she breathed out, letting her hot breath travel across the white ass. Leona shuddered and tried to raise ass higher, but Marina’s firm hand on the small of her back kept her down.

Leona wanted to weep. She lay prostrate under the cruel hands and all she could think of was Marina’s lips and when they would come into contact with her butt. She wanted to beg, but pride and the knowledge that Dr. Trotsky and his team were behind the mirror, kept her from doing so. After endless moments, she felt it. The hot tip of Marina’s snake tongue travelling across her left buttock. She almost came.

Marina licked the butt cheek and nibbled at it. She bit harder until Leona moaned in pleasured pain. Her tongue continued it’s travels until it reached the crevice between her cheeks. She could smell Leona’s excitement and it disgusted and intoxicated her at once. She noted that Leona was clenching and unclenching her fists in frustration and anticipation. She brought her lips down again and licked at the crevice, the tip of her nose burrowing slightly into the crevice. Leona nearly jumped.

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