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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
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type of literature, or you are under age,
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Advanced Biology Lab
by Linda Loring (address withheld)
***
A jealous female lab technician gets even with a female
colleague by manipulation. (F/machine, nc, forced orgasm,
voy, spank)
***
I work as a technician in a health research laboratory.
We end up handling some pretty scary stuff. A lot of
the work we do has to do with AIDS, and we also have
some defense contracts involving research into ways of
counteracting biological warfare. All in all, we work
with a good many substances no human should come in
contact with, or even take a chance on breathing.
Substances like that are handled in a special section
of the laboratory. No one is allowed in the room when
it's in use. Sealed containers are passed in through a
sort of miniature air-lock, and once the inner door of
the lock is opened, the containers are opened and the
contents moved around using special mechanical arms.
The mechanical arms are manipulated from a control
room. From the control room you can see into the lab
through thick, airtight windows. You can't see into the
control room from the lab, ordinarily, because the
laboratory area is brightly lit while the control room
is fairly dim.
The whole set-up is amazingly high-tech. The eight
mechanical arms can reach anywhere in the lab, and
their "hands", each with a "thumb" and two "fingers",
have tremendous strength but are also capable of
precise movement, even in microscopic dimensions.
Normally we manipulate the arms and their hands by
putting our own hands into special glove-like fixtures
and moving our own fingers the way we want their
mechanical counterparts to move. Larger or smaller
movements require separate controls, and a whole
sequence of movements can be programmed into the
computer, which then controls all movements. We can
interrupt the computer's control if something
unexpected happens, reposition things manually, and
tell the computer to pick up right where it left off.
There are six videotape cameras in the lab, and they
can be directed to cover any part of the room from
almost any angle. The special video recorders are in
the control room, and when we need to make a
presentation to someone outside the lab, signals from
those recorders can be fed into a standard VCR and
recorded in full color onto regular videotape.
All of this equipment is, as I said, normally used to
work with deadly viruses and other toxins. But, as I
recently discovered, it can be put to other uses as
well.
The discovery took place late last Saturday night. I'd
been working on an experiment using several laboratory
rats. It wasn't my job to give them food and water, but
the weekend staff sometimes "forgets" to take care of
the animals in the contagion room. My rats were already
pretty weak, and if they went all weekend without food
and water, they'd probably be dead by Monday morning,
and I'd have to start the experiment over from the
beginning.
I'd fretted about the rats all day, and finally, after
coming out of a late movie a little before midnight, I
decided to go over to the lab and check on them myself.
I pulled into the parking lot behind the lab, noticing
absently that there was another car parked down at the
end of the dark lot. I did a double take when I
recognized the car - it was one of those little Mazda
two-seater jobs, and it belonged Kristin, a/k/a the
"ice queen".
Kristin was the newest of the research biologists,
having come to work at the lab only two months earlier.
She was a real whiz with the computer system that
controlled the mechanical arms in the contagion room,
but that wasn't the attribute she was best known for.
The severe clothes she wore couldn't hide the fact that
she was really stacked, and I had to admit that her
pale blonde hair and her face weren't bad either.
All of us females in the lab, researchers and
technicians alike, were jealous of the way the men had
drooled over her at first, but from what I'd heard,
none of them had been able to get to first base with
her. That was why some of them had begun referring to
her as the "ice queen".
Usually when one of the women's cars stayed in the lot
all night one could infer that she was spending the
night elsewhere, after a successful date with one of
the men who worked in the lab. That seemed unlikely,
from what I knew of Kristin's reputation, but I decided
that her personal life wasn't any of my business
anyway, and went inside.
The outer door of the building used a regular key, and
then I had to use first another key and then a
specially coded magnetic card to get into the secure
area of the lab. By the time I'd made it through the
last door I was aware that the lights were on in the
contagion room. That didn't surprise me a lot, because
the weekend staff was often careless about the lights,
too. Still, I was curious enough to slip into the
darkened control room in order to see, without being
seen, whether someone was in the C-Room, as we called
it.
Someone was there, all right, and the sight just about
blew my mind! Kristin lay on her back on one of the
work counters, totally nude, her clothing in a pile on
the floor. That would have been astounding enough, but
what made the scene really incredible was that the
"fingers" on one of the mechanical arms were fondling
one of her breasts while those on a second arm were
busy amidst the pale hair between her legs! Incredulous
at what I was seeing, I sat down to watch.
The computer beside me was on and the screen indicated
that it was in the "engaged" mode, which meant it was
controlling the mechanical devices in the C-Room.
Kristin had obviously done a little extra-curricular
programming, and from what I could tell she seemed to
have done a very good job!
I couldn't hear anything from the next room, but
Kristin's head and body were in constant motion as the
mechanical digits caressed first one breast and then
the other, pulled gently at her engorged nipples, and
glided easily in and out of the dark slit that was only
half-hidden by her silky pubic hair.
I stood up quietly and slipped a blank tape into the
VCR. I didn't know what I might do with the tape, but
the way my own juices were starting to flow, I
suspected that I was going to want to watch this scene
again - in living color, no less! It was while I was
loading the tape that I noticed a third mechanical arm.
It was motionless now, but Kristin plainly didn't
expect it to remain so, because its padded fingers were
clamped around the base of the largest dildo I'd ever
seen!
For some reason the sight of that dildo really pissed
me off. I can't explain exactly why it bothered me so
much, but here was a woman with the most perfect body
I'd ever seen, or even imagined, who could have any man
she even looked at. But instead of taking any of the
offers she'd had, she'd constructed her perfect
mechanical lover, and now she was waiting for it to
fuck her!
If she were really ugly, maybe I could accept what she
was doing. For Kristin to do that though, seemed like a
gesture of contempt for the rest of us, who had to
settle for mortal lovers and their fragile egos, their
clumsy foreplay, their sweaty bodies and their
ordinary-sized cocks that so often had to be coaxed
laboriously to life.
Without any definite plan in mind, I switched on the
video monitor in the control room, so I could see and
hear what was being recorded on the video tape, and
disengaged the computer. Kristin looked surprised as
the magic fingers stopped their kneading and probing,
and then astonished as the hand that had been toying
with her pussy moved up to her waist.
Astonishment gave way to alarm as I used the arm to
roll her onto her stomach. She began to struggle,
making incoherent sounds, but I pushed two of the
mechanical hands into the small of her back to hold her
in place on the flat counter. I hadn't decided what to
do next, but the sight of her perfect ass, wiggling as
she tried vainly to get her knees under her, gave me an
idea.
I spread the arms slightly and opened their fingers to
grip Kristin firmly on either side of her narrow waist.
With their immense strength the mechanical arms had no
trouble lifting her off the counter. I swung her into
the middle of the room, where she hung suspended by her
middle about five feet off the floor, head down, boobs
jutting, legs kicking and arms flailing helplessly.
"Stop it", she yelled, "whoever you are! Put me down,
now!"
I offered no response as my eyes searched the C-Room
for a suitable object. I found a perfect one on another
work counter - a 50-centimeter scale. It was like a
ruler except that it was made out of thick, clear
plastic, twenty inches long, two inches wide and about
a quarter of an inch thick.
I activated the third arm - the one holding the dildo -
and Kristin, looking upside down between her legs, must
have seen it move, because she started screaming and
kicking wildly. "No! Don't you dare touch me with
that!", she shrieked. She relaxed a little when she
realized the arm was moving past her. I fully intended
to make use of the dildo, but not just yet.
Opening the mechanical fingers, I dropped the dildo on
the counter and picked up the plastic scale. It took a
little maneuvering to get the hand to hold the scale
properly, clutching it near the end and locking the
fingers so that a minor flick of the mechanical "wrist"
imparted considerable speed and momentum to the heavy
scale. Then I moved the arm into position behind and
slightly to the side of Kristin's creamy white ass.
All I knew about spanking I'd learned as a child, bent
over the edge of the kitchen table while my mother
applied a yardstick to the seat of my jeans or, on a
few occasions, to my bared bottom. That had taught me
that spankings were both painful and humiliating, and
those were precisely the sensations I wanted the ice
queen to experience.
I gave the mechanical wrist an experimental flick, and
was rewarded with a sharp yelp of pain through the
control room speaker. The plastic scale had landed on
the left cheek of Kristin's ass, but it hadn't bounced
away as I thought it would have if I'd been holding the
scale in my own hand. I tried a lighter touch, but it
was evidently too light, because Kristin didn't make a
sound.
In a matter of minutes, though, I became quite adept,
if I say so myself. Each swing of the makeshift paddle
resulted in a satisfying yell from Kristin and left
another pink blotch on the silky skin of her bottom. I
picked up the tempo as I became more confident, and let
the scale wander over the backs of her thighs as well
as her ass. In almost no time the ice queen was sobbing
and begging for the paddling to stop. She hadn't been
spanked as a child, I guessed, or she'd have more
endurance.
I responded to her pleas with a blistering flurry of
smacks that really covered the target area and had
Kristin kicking and screaming. Any effort she might
have made earlier to keep her legs closed was
abandoned, and the video camera had perfect view of her
wet beaver - though it couldn't have been as wet as
mine was!
Then I moved the arm over to the other work surface and
laid the scale carefully on the edge of the counter. I
picked up the gross-looking dildo and began moving the
arm back toward Kristin. She saw it coming and began
shrieking in protest again.
I decided that I enjoyed being the spanker instead of
the spankee enough that I could let Kristin decide when
she preferred the dildo to the paddle. I dropped the
dildo, picked up the plastic scale, and resumed my
attack on that perfectly shaped ass.
By that time I was becoming a real virtuoso, and the
feeling between my legs was leading me to think that I
should take up bare-bottom spanking as a serious hobby,
if not a full-time profession. Kristin yelled and
begged as I peppered her immobilized butt and flailing
thighs with dozens of stinging blows.
Once her ass and the backs of her thighs had turned a
nearly uniform shade of crimson, I stopped the spanking
and exchanged the scale for the dildo again. Again
Kristin protested when she the saw the mechanical
fingers grasp the plastic cock, but when I put it down
and moved toward the scale, she quickly said "No, no
more of that, don't hit me any more!" She said nothing
as I moved the dildo slowly toward her.
The camera had a clear view of Kristin's pussy but I
didn't, so I halted the arm carrying the dildo a couple
of feet away from her, and used the other robot arms to
turn her until she was facing almost directly away from
me. Then I had to move the camera so that it had
essentially the same view I did, and zoomed it to
provide a close-up shot.
I wondered suddenly, as I swung the third arm around
and thrust the flesh-colored dildo toward Kristin's
glistening cuntlips, if this was how a man felt as he
prepared to shove his dick into a woman's waiting
pussy. Too bad, I thought, that the mechanical
appendages had no nerves; it would have been a blast to
feel what a man feels at the moment of entry.
Kristin groaned as I touched the tip of the dildo
against the outer lips of her pussy. I increased the
pressure, watching in fascination as her clitoris
flattened and her lips spread to surround the enormous
phallus. I pushed harder, and Kristin gave a sharp cry
as two inches of the ribbed dildo sank out of sight.
By that time, I was sure, the latex-covered plastic was
well into her vagina, and I must have the angle about
right or she'd be screaming her head off. My own pussy
convulsed with envy as I gave the control a shove and
buried another seven inches of artificial cock in the
ice queen. The moan that came through the speaker
didn't sound much like pain.
I pulled the dildo back several inches and pushed it in
again. The movement required almost no effort, and I
marveled at how quickly Kristin had adapted to an
object of that size. I started stroking in and out,
wishing again that the dildo had nerves and could
somehow transmit to me the sensations it was feeling. I
wondered if any man had ever been inside the ice queen
to feel those sensations.
That thought resurrected some of my earlier anger, and
I decided that I'd be damned if I was going to stand
there fucking some woman who thought she was too good
to get screwed by a flesh and blood man - especially
when I had a nice vibrator at home that I'd been
neglecting lately.
I stopped thrusting with the dildo, which provoked
little whimpers from my colleague in the next room, and
quickly programmed the computer to continue with a
four-inch back-and-forth stroke, along the same axis,
for another fifteen minutes, then to withdraw the third
arm, lower the other two near the floor, and separate
them.
Fifteen minutes would be plenty of time for the ice
queen to get her rocks off a time or ten, and then to
start imagining the scene the next morning when the
weekend crew came in and found her suspended naked and
being humped continuously by computer-controlled device
that only she knew how to program. It would also give
me plenty of time to get out of the building and
several miles away before a much-relieved biologist
could start trying to identify her unknown tormentor.
I let the VCR record the first gasps of ecstasy, then
popped the tape out and slipped it into my purse. I
left the recorder on, so Kristin would know she'd been
on candid camera, and hurried out to my car. I could
check on my mice the next day.
Kristin cleaned up well; there was no sign of her
nighttime adventure when I went by the lab about noon
the next day, although I did notice that the plastic
scale was nowhere to be found. My mice had been fed and
watered, and were doing as well as could be expected,
considering the stuff I'd injected into them.
The first item on the agenda at our staff meeting on
Monday morning was an announcement that Kristin had
resigned. No one knew just why, but the director wished
her well, in absentia, in whatever her new endeavors
might be. And I've decided to learn everything there is
to know about programming the computer that controls
the mechanical arms in the C-Room. The vibrator was
comforting, but I've thought of some experiments I
might like to conduct here on my own, late some
Saturday night.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 48