Obedient Little Puppy
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I have mixed feelings as I watch what is taking place on the small screen in front of me.
I should be grateful that my employer and I have finally found someone else who can help us with our research. But I can’t quite summon up the necessary enthusiasm, because something isn’t right. It’s a female we need now, not another male. Unless we change our plans and decide to do some research on the sexual interaction between two men instead, it looks as though we’re pretty screwed.
I return my attention to the screen. The burglar is clearly nervous, just as I imagine one of his profession would be. He is dressed all in black and his face is covered by a balaclava. He keeps glancing around to make sure that he is in no danger of being caught, but he will soon be disappointed. My employer and I do not take kindly to junkies breaking into our pharmaceutical plant and stealing thousands of pounds’ worth of drugs, sometimes for their own personal use but more often than not to sell on the streets. They are ruining years of hard work and we can’t just stand back and let them get away with it.
It is with some relief that I see Dr Lambert appear in the top right hand corner of the screen. Clearly sensing his presence, the burglar turns around, startled, but he is no match for my boss. Dr Lambert hooks an arm around the intruder’s throat, and I smile as I see him produce a syringe with a long, nasty looking needle. The burglar struggles desperately to free himself, but to no avail; the needle is plunged deep into his arm, and I watch as he goes limp in the other man’s arms. Dr Lambert slings the unconscious man over one shoulder and leaves the room, and I turn away from the screen in time to see him enter the room in which I am sitting.
‘Nice work. As always,’ I say with a smile as he allows the burglar to slide to the floor in an untidy heap.
‘Thank you, Dr Stone.’ He returns my smile as he crouches down. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got then, shall we?’
I lean eagerly forward in my black leather swivel chair. Although I am disappointed that we have another man, the prospect of having another guinea pig on which to test our new drugs is nevertheless exciting. My heart is starting to pound, and I can feel a slight twinge in my pussy, which then releases a surge of moisture into my panties. The anaesthetic we use on our guinea pigs keeps them out cold for a good couple of hours, and I am now impatient for it to wear off completely so the tests can begin.
Dr Lambert lifts the burglar’s head and tugs off the balaclava behind which the young man is hiding his face. Several strands of long blond hair spill out, having come loose from its ponytail. My boss smoothes these strands of hair away to reveal the man’s face, and we both stare in surprise.
‘Well, Dr Stone, it looks as though our prayers have been answered after all.’
I nod my head in agreement, too stunned and delighted to speak. For the face that has just been exposed is not male, but female. It is a very beautiful, angelic face, a direct contrast to her chosen occupation. By the look of her, she is around my own age, and looks the very picture of health. But you can never be too sure with people like this.
‘Let’s see what else she’s hiding,’ I suggest, licking my lips in anticipation.
Dr Lambert takes only a few short moments to strip the girl completely naked. Hers is not the typical female figure; she has to be at least five foot eleven, and although she is fairly slim her build is larger than that of more petite girls. Her breasts, which she had bound with bandages to make her chest appear completely flat, are neither too large nor too small and her nipples are a lovely dusky pink. Her hips and arse are nicely curved, her legs lovely and long and her belly flat. The thick bush of hair at the apex of her thighs confirms that she is a natural blonde.
‘I think she’ll do nicely,’ Dr Lambert announces, and again I nod my agreement.
‘Then let’s make sure she’s nice and clean.’
‘Of course.’
Together we lift the unconscious girl and take her from the CCTV viewing room to the adjacent prep lab. In order to carry out a fair experiment, we need our guinea pigs to be completely healthy. No illnesses of any kind, especially STIs or STDs.
We lay her on the examination table and strap her limbs down as a security precaution. I pull on a pair of latex medical gloves and proceed to run my hands over the delectable flesh lying prone before us, unable to resist a little squeeze of her breast.
‘Patience, Dr Stone.’ Dr Lambert’s eyes twinkle with the same mischief that lifts his lips into a smile. ‘You can play with her all you like when she wakes up, but in the meantime I believe there are some necessary tests to carry out?’
I suppress a shiver of delight at his playfully stern tone. I love it when he gets all masterful. At forty-five he is nearly twenty years older than me, but still very attractive. He has a shock of dark hair and soft, almost kindly, brown eyes. We are sex partners as well as work partners, only too happy to indulge each other’s more unusual tastes although we do sometimes prefer things simple, straightforward.
‘My apologies, Dr Lambert. I’ll get started immediately.’ I can’t resist a cheeky grin. ‘Will I be punished for my over-enthusiasm?’
‘We’ll have to see.’ Teasing bastard. ‘I assume you are okay to conduct the tests alone? Project X is due to be fed.’
‘Of course.’ I may only be a junior scientist, but he trusts me enough to give me more important, more challenging duties, and for this I have the utmost respect for him.
‘Good. I will be back in time for the results.’ And with the briefest brush of his lips over mine, he leaves the room.
I set to work on the guinea pig with renewed enthusiasm. I take the necessary blood samples from her and proceed to test them for evidence of any ill health. Our equipment is sophisticated enough to allow us the results within fifteen minutes, and these show that the girl is, as she looks, in perfect health. She has drunk some alcohol and ingested cannabis within the last twenty-four hours, and of course the anaesthetic we gave her has shown up, but there is no evidence of any other drug in her system.
She has passed with flying colours, meeting our requirements perfectly.
Now that she is a confirmed suitable guinea pig, it is time to begin the preparation of her body for our experiments. Dr Lambert, having returned from feeding our resident guinea pig, watches with a sly smile as I remove every trace of the young woman’s pubic hair. No longer hidden by blonde fluff, her mound is revealed in all its soft, succulent glory, the labial lips closing over the sweet pink flesh within. I peel them back gently and can’t resist running a single latex-clad finger over the ripe fruit. Right now she is as dry as a bone, but that will not be the case for long.
‘Dr Stone.’ There is no playfulness in Dr Lambert’s voice this time.
‘Sorry, Dr Lambert.’
I take a reluctant step back and survey the girl once more. Her legs and armpits are completely smooth, saving me five or ten minutes of time, so now there is only one more area on her body that needs shaving.
Moving to the head of the examination table, I lift her head gently, noting how heavy it is in her unconscious state, and tug at the band restraining the majority of her hair. Waist-length tresses slide down over her face and cascade gently down almost to the floor. I run my fingers through it in a gentle caress, feeling even through the latex gloves how soft and silky it is.
‘She has the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen,’ I murmur thoughtfully. ‘It’s almost a pity that she has to lose it.’
I plug an electric hair clipper into the wall socket beside me and proceed to shave the girl’s head. Long hair is not suitable for guinea pigs as it has a tendency to get in the way. But there is another reason behind our desire for a shaven head. Hair is a sign of personality, identity. And these are things that the girl no longer possesses. She is no longer a human being to us. She is merely something on which to test the drugs we have been working on creating for a long time. As far as I’m concerned, she lost the right to be considered human when she broke into the plant with a desire to steal from us. So her future treatment is partly a punishment, a humiliation. We may enquire as to her name when she wakes, but we will never use it to address her. Her new identity is simply Project Y. She will live in a cage, and her days and nights will consist of nothing but eating, sleeping, exercise, bathing (we have to keep our guinea pigs clean) and sexual scientific experiments. This is it for her now. She will never see the light of day again, but we will ensure that she is put to the best use for the good of those suffering with sexual problems. These are the people who will benefit from our hard work, and we want to make sure that they get the treatment they deserve to have.
I should be grateful that my employer and I have finally found someone else who can help us with our research. But I can’t quite summon up the necessary enthusiasm, because something isn’t right. It’s a female we need now, not another male. Unless we change our plans and decide to do some research on the sexual interaction between two men instead, it looks as though we’re pretty screwed.
I return my attention to the screen. The burglar is clearly nervous, just as I imagine one of his profession would be. He is dressed all in black and his face is covered by a balaclava. He keeps glancing around to make sure that he is in no danger of being caught, but he will soon be disappointed. My employer and I do not take kindly to junkies breaking into our pharmaceutical plant and stealing thousands of pounds’ worth of drugs, sometimes for their own personal use but more often than not to sell on the streets. They are ruining years of hard work and we can’t just stand back and let them get away with it.
It is with some relief that I see Dr Lambert appear in the top right hand corner of the screen. Clearly sensing his presence, the burglar turns around, startled, but he is no match for my boss. Dr Lambert hooks an arm around the intruder’s throat, and I smile as I see him produce a syringe with a long, nasty looking needle. The burglar struggles desperately to free himself, but to no avail; the needle is plunged deep into his arm, and I watch as he goes limp in the other man’s arms. Dr Lambert slings the unconscious man over one shoulder and leaves the room, and I turn away from the screen in time to see him enter the room in which I am sitting.
‘Nice work. As always,’ I say with a smile as he allows the burglar to slide to the floor in an untidy heap.
‘Thank you, Dr Stone.’ He returns my smile as he crouches down. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got then, shall we?’
I lean eagerly forward in my black leather swivel chair. Although I am disappointed that we have another man, the prospect of having another guinea pig on which to test our new drugs is nevertheless exciting. My heart is starting to pound, and I can feel a slight twinge in my pussy, which then releases a surge of moisture into my panties. The anaesthetic we use on our guinea pigs keeps them out cold for a good couple of hours, and I am now impatient for it to wear off completely so the tests can begin.
Dr Lambert lifts the burglar’s head and tugs off the balaclava behind which the young man is hiding his face. Several strands of long blond hair spill out, having come loose from its ponytail. My boss smoothes these strands of hair away to reveal the man’s face, and we both stare in surprise.
‘Well, Dr Stone, it looks as though our prayers have been answered after all.’
I nod my head in agreement, too stunned and delighted to speak. For the face that has just been exposed is not male, but female. It is a very beautiful, angelic face, a direct contrast to her chosen occupation. By the look of her, she is around my own age, and looks the very picture of health. But you can never be too sure with people like this.
‘Let’s see what else she’s hiding,’ I suggest, licking my lips in anticipation.
Dr Lambert takes only a few short moments to strip the girl completely naked. Hers is not the typical female figure; she has to be at least five foot eleven, and although she is fairly slim her build is larger than that of more petite girls. Her breasts, which she had bound with bandages to make her chest appear completely flat, are neither too large nor too small and her nipples are a lovely dusky pink. Her hips and arse are nicely curved, her legs lovely and long and her belly flat. The thick bush of hair at the apex of her thighs confirms that she is a natural blonde.
‘I think she’ll do nicely,’ Dr Lambert announces, and again I nod my agreement.
‘Then let’s make sure she’s nice and clean.’
‘Of course.’
Together we lift the unconscious girl and take her from the CCTV viewing room to the adjacent prep lab. In order to carry out a fair experiment, we need our guinea pigs to be completely healthy. No illnesses of any kind, especially STIs or STDs.
We lay her on the examination table and strap her limbs down as a security precaution. I pull on a pair of latex medical gloves and proceed to run my hands over the delectable flesh lying prone before us, unable to resist a little squeeze of her breast.
‘Patience, Dr Stone.’ Dr Lambert’s eyes twinkle with the same mischief that lifts his lips into a smile. ‘You can play with her all you like when she wakes up, but in the meantime I believe there are some necessary tests to carry out?’
I suppress a shiver of delight at his playfully stern tone. I love it when he gets all masterful. At forty-five he is nearly twenty years older than me, but still very attractive. He has a shock of dark hair and soft, almost kindly, brown eyes. We are sex partners as well as work partners, only too happy to indulge each other’s more unusual tastes although we do sometimes prefer things simple, straightforward.
‘My apologies, Dr Lambert. I’ll get started immediately.’ I can’t resist a cheeky grin. ‘Will I be punished for my over-enthusiasm?’
‘We’ll have to see.’ Teasing bastard. ‘I assume you are okay to conduct the tests alone? Project X is due to be fed.’
‘Of course.’ I may only be a junior scientist, but he trusts me enough to give me more important, more challenging duties, and for this I have the utmost respect for him.
‘Good. I will be back in time for the results.’ And with the briefest brush of his lips over mine, he leaves the room.
I set to work on the guinea pig with renewed enthusiasm. I take the necessary blood samples from her and proceed to test them for evidence of any ill health. Our equipment is sophisticated enough to allow us the results within fifteen minutes, and these show that the girl is, as she looks, in perfect health. She has drunk some alcohol and ingested cannabis within the last twenty-four hours, and of course the anaesthetic we gave her has shown up, but there is no evidence of any other drug in her system.
She has passed with flying colours, meeting our requirements perfectly.
Now that she is a confirmed suitable guinea pig, it is time to begin the preparation of her body for our experiments. Dr Lambert, having returned from feeding our resident guinea pig, watches with a sly smile as I remove every trace of the young woman’s pubic hair. No longer hidden by blonde fluff, her mound is revealed in all its soft, succulent glory, the labial lips closing over the sweet pink flesh within. I peel them back gently and can’t resist running a single latex-clad finger over the ripe fruit. Right now she is as dry as a bone, but that will not be the case for long.
‘Dr Stone.’ There is no playfulness in Dr Lambert’s voice this time.
‘Sorry, Dr Lambert.’
I take a reluctant step back and survey the girl once more. Her legs and armpits are completely smooth, saving me five or ten minutes of time, so now there is only one more area on her body that needs shaving.
Moving to the head of the examination table, I lift her head gently, noting how heavy it is in her unconscious state, and tug at the band restraining the majority of her hair. Waist-length tresses slide down over her face and cascade gently down almost to the floor. I run my fingers through it in a gentle caress, feeling even through the latex gloves how soft and silky it is.
‘She has the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen,’ I murmur thoughtfully. ‘It’s almost a pity that she has to lose it.’
I plug an electric hair clipper into the wall socket beside me and proceed to shave the girl’s head. Long hair is not suitable for guinea pigs as it has a tendency to get in the way. But there is another reason behind our desire for a shaven head. Hair is a sign of personality, identity. And these are things that the girl no longer possesses. She is no longer a human being to us. She is merely something on which to test the drugs we have been working on creating for a long time. As far as I’m concerned, she lost the right to be considered human when she broke into the plant with a desire to steal from us. So her future treatment is partly a punishment, a humiliation. We may enquire as to her name when she wakes, but we will never use it to address her. Her new identity is simply Project Y. She will live in a cage, and her days and nights will consist of nothing but eating, sleeping, exercise, bathing (we have to keep our guinea pigs clean) and sexual scientific experiments. This is it for her now. She will never see the light of day again, but we will ensure that she is put to the best use for the good of those suffering with sexual problems. These are the people who will benefit from our hard work, and we want to make sure that they get the treatment they deserve to have.
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