Please send comments to; aceinthe_hole@hotmail.com
Confidential; for the eyes of Dr. Lewis only
As you suggested, I've written it out like a story, and you were right,
it has made it easier to tell. Please return the disc to me after you've
read it and made your notes, and delete it from your computer. I'd hate
for anyone else to find it, or, heaven forbid, publish it somewhere or post
it on the internet! I don't know if it was the same at your school, but at
the university where I went to take psychology, we were required to act as
subjects for some of the studies. For particularly long or unpleasant ones
[like where they make you sick or keep you immobilised], they give you
extra credits or even give you financial credit towards your tuition. My
parents were paying for my education, but my dad always used to tell me how
he and my had emigrated here from India without a dime, and struggled
for every penny. That's why I checked into what I could do to lessen his
burden. I don't know if anyone's noticed, but there are two things that
scientists just don't want to be known for studying. Psychotropic drug
use, and sex. The study in which I was to be a subject was not part of my
curriculum, so I knew that it was normal that the researchers not tell me
any more than they wanted me to know, at least until it was over and ready
for publication. I was interviewed by professor Sloan; 'you will do
perfectly, if you are willing' he said, looking me up and down. 'What is
the study about, professor?' 'Endocronilogical effects of sexual
stimulation' There was a pause. 'And how am I to be stimulated?' He
laughed, 'you don't get stimulated, you are to be the stimulus!' It took a
further half hour for the psychology professor to convince this nineteen
year that 'stimulating' a by letting him have sex with you was
no more abnormal than sharing a cup of coffee.
So, that's how I ended up in a 'bedroom' in the bowels of the
university, dressed in very little, with my hair down and brushed [it came
to the middle of my back in those days], waiting for a strange male to
enter the room. My imagination had been working overtime all week,
wondering what was going to happen. My role was to act like the lover of
the other subject, whom I wouldn't meet until the first experiment. It was
up to me how far to go, but if I wanted to stay in the program and get my
entire schooling paid for, it was clear that it would be all the way. The
door opened and a entered the room. He was middle aged, with very
short black hair ringing a prominent bald spot. His eyes lit up when he
saw me. I stood and walked over to him. . At that time I had larger
breasts than I do now, and I saw in the mirror that covered one wall how
they were pushing out the white cotton slip that contrasted sharply with my
dark skin. The was about five foot ten, only slightly taller than me.
I smiled at him as I put my arms around his neck, and held my body against
his. 'Hi' I said, simply, looking into his dark eyes, our noses nearly
touching. 'Hi!' he replied, enthusiastically, and kissed me. My didn't even want me to go out with anyone without her approval [and a check
of their caste and parentage]. As I kissed and held this complete stranger
pressed against me, I found myself thinking that I was far from home. He
was running his hands up and down my back, then lower, under the slip and
up, his hand was on my panties. Then under them, on my bare bottom. I was
born and raised in America; I was not a virgin at nineteen. But almost. I
was surprised to find that I was getting excited. I wondered if they were
going to ask me about that afterward. We had sex. Full penile - vaginal
penetration. Sex. He was gentle and considerate. In fact, despite his
age, or maybe because of it, he was the best lover I'd had until that
point. We soon had our orgasms, together. 'I hope that I'll be able to see
you again' he said, nervously, before leaving in a hurry. I figured that
he was thinking about the needle he was about to get, for the blood sample.
So it began, and several times a week I would have sex with total strangers
in the name of science.
For a while I thought I'd figured out how to get through it easier. I
would make them climax very quickly, by taking them orally and then
gyrating my hips rapidly when they would have regular sex with me. But the
professor said that that wasn't the idea, I should spend some time with
each subject, to build the sexual tension before release. Afterwards
professor Sloan would ask me some questions, and write the answers down on
a pad. Things like whether I'd had an orgasm [surprisingly often, I
admit], and my impressions of the other subject, how stimulated I thought
he was. Sloan said that due to the sensitive nature of the research, he'd
do the interviews himself, to protect my privacy. Sometimes he took a
blood sample from me.
The were always older, and all were white. One was really old, past
sixty, and I was with him several times. He had a problem with impotence,
and prof. Sloan told me that that was why he was recruited. My job was to
do my utmost to stimulate him, so that Professor Sloan and his students
could study his hormones from 'before' and 'after' blood samples. There
were other 'stimulator' in the program [I wasn't allowed to know who
they were], but apparently I was the only who could get the guy going.
It was a tough assignment. I had to really get into the role, pretending
that I was in love with him, stroking and kissing his face and body.
Looking into his eyes and smiling at him while I went down on him. Only
then could he get an erection. And then he would have intercourse with me
in a missionary position for twenty minutes or more. He was nice. He'd be
very affectionate the whole time, and he was the only one of the who
ever went down on me in return. And yes, I did achieve orgasm from that.
Actually, to succeed, I had to play my role so intimately with him, that it
was almost as though I really did desire him, and I came several times with
him on each of his visits.
Then there was the midget. I was sitting in a chair by the mirror while
waiting for him, brushing my hair, naked. His eyes widened as he entered
and saw me, and he made a kind of happy gurgling sound. I hate to say
this, but he had an ugly, pinched kind of face. He came up in front of me,
and even sitting in the chair, he only came up to my nose. I put down the
brush, and held out my arms, and embraced the poor little fellow, stroking
and holding his head against me. He was very clean, and he had a pleasant
kind of smell. He had nice, thick, black hair. I lay down on the bed, and
he striped and lay on top of me. He held my head in his little hands and
kissed me, while his erection grew between my breasts. Somehow I didn't
mind when I felt his tongue push itself into my mouth. I even slid mine
into his. His penis was normal sized, but we had to be a bit creative in
order for him to be able to enter and have intercourse with me. I had to
lift my hips, while he stood upright and moved his whole body back and
forth to get enough movement. It may sound really bizarre, but actually,
he was very sweet. He couldn't quite make me come, but I have to give him
points for trying. I think of him sometimes, and wonder what became of
him.
After a few months, prof. Sloan wanted me to do more. He said that he
had a subject who craved anal sex. He wanted to study the fellow after he
had fulfilled this desire. I said no way, that's going to far! But Sloan
could be extremely persuasive; he convinced me that it wasn't such a big
deal. He told me I should get my rectum accustomed to penetration in
advance, and I'd have no trouble. He was much younger than most of the many
men that I'd been with by then. In his late twenties, I guessed. When he
striped down, he revealed the tattoos all over both arms. He was muscular,
tanned and lean. 'Baby, what an ass' he said, and pushing me down on the
bed, he groped me and bit me. He didn't break the skin, but it hurt. It
wasn't too bad when he pushed himself into my annus. I was happy that I'd
done as prof. Sloan suggested, and practiced penetrating myself with the
neck of a bottle a couple of times in the previous days. I was on my hands
and knees on the bed, and the tattooed fucked [sorry, but it's the most
appropriate word] me like a dog, screaming and whooping, squeezing my
breasts, pulling my head back by the hair. Although he was relatively
handsome compared with most of the other subjects, he didn't show me any
consideration or kindness. I cried a little after he'd left, nursing my
tender behind. I wondered if I could get the or the midget again.
The professor looked a bit angry as I described the encounter to him later.
He held me, stroked my head, and told me I was a good girl. That made me
feel better.
It was shortly after that, I think, that I had the first 'in the dark'
encounter. Done in the room in complete darkness, so neither of us would
know what the other looked like. It was a large man, with a beard. He was
tender to me, and I felt a flush of emotion as I recognised the smell of
professor Sloan. I know now that I should have been angry at this blatant
breach of trust and ethics. But by that time I was so emotionally starved,
that I welcomed him into me. At last someone that knew ME, had been kind
to me, had shown me some form of affection while outside this room. You
have to understand, that my own course work was very demanding, and with
the time demanded of me by Professor Sloan, I really didn't have energy
left for social dating. We had strait sex, and I drank in the forbidden
affection. The professor started repeating the 'sight deprivation'
experiments at least once a week. It was always himself, and I don't know
if he ever knew that I knew. I always looked forward to being with him.
One evening while he was taking down notes about a just finished
encounter, he asked if I could take on some more work. By that time, I'd
do just about anything for him. A shower was installed in the room, so that
I could freshen up immediately after a left, and take a second on
the same evening. Also, my participation was increased to five times a
week.
Sometimes there were strange scenes, like when I dressed up as a nurse,
or a harem girl. There was a foot fetishist. He went completely wild over
my Indian silver ankle chain and toe ring [I've always liked to accentuate
my ethnic identity]. He was a non-descript middle-aged man. He came in a
suit and tie, carrying a brief case, as though he'd just come from his
work. I suppose that he had. He kept his cloths and horned rim
glasses on, but removed his shoes and sat on the foot of the bed. I
striped for him, and sat at the head of the bed, so he could get at my
feet. It was fun, how he adored them. He praised their small size, and
just rubbed and massaged them for the longest time. Then he started to
lick the soles and suck on my toes. It tickled terribly sometimes, and I
apologised for laughing, but he told me that he liked my laugh. He
undressed himself unashamedly, under my gaze. He didn't have a very
attractive body, I'm sorry to say. He hung his cloths carefully on the
hooks on the wall in the corner. He sat back down where he had been,
wearing only those unfortunate glasses, and placed my feet one on either
side of his half erect penis. We both leaned back on our elbows, nude,
facing each other, while I gave him the 'foot job'. He sighed with
pleasure, and told me how lovely and exotic I was, and how he wished his
wife was more like me. He asked if it was O.K. to kiss me, and I thought
that was a funny question at that point! I told him yes, and he slid up
and over me, and with his weight on his hands, we kissed for a while. I
reached down, and guided him into me, wrapping my legs around his as he
slid inside of me. I wrapped my arms around his chubby white middle, while
he pumped in and out of me. He kept stroking my face with his fingertips,
kissing me, and telling me how wonderful I was, until I had an orgasm.
Later, when he had his, his excitement, and the feeling of his sperm
shooting into me caused me to have another. Unfortunately, he had to get
dressed and go pretty quickly afterwards, because I had another scheduled.
Then there was that creature.. Half man, half woman. She came in
looking very female, made up and in a sexy dress and heels. She was
beautiful, with a slim figure, fine face, and long auburn hair. I knew, of
course. I'd been told in advance. We kissed, and then she started to cry.
I held her and told her that it was O.K., and I took out and stroked 'her'
penis. She told me that she was born with it, and in adolescence, had
grown instead of body hair. I enjoyed playing with her and
kissing her nipples, as so many had played with mine. She had
wonderful, slim, girlish hips, and long, smooth, shapely, feminine legs.
They looked so odd, with a man's organ protruding out from between them. We
made love, and it was an exciting experience. First she was on top, and it
was a different thrill as she penetrated me while I fondled her breasts.
They were medium sized, and full. Her long hair tickled my face and
breasts, and she made me come. I took her small, hard penis in my mouth,
and I did all that I'd learned to give her pleasure. I climbed on top and
put her back inside me, and I moved my pelvis forward and back like a belly
dancer. I rubbed my black hair over her with my hands. She
came at last, and we lay together for some time before she rose and left me
forever. She'd told me that I had been her first woman.
I don't know how I ever agreed to take two at the same time. I was
excited at first, when they entered the room. They were both young, in
their twenties, and both really good looking. Yet there was something odd
and unpleasant about them I soon decided. They both undressed, and had the
biggest equipment I'd ever seen. I was a little frightened by them. The
dark haired one called all the shots, he was very particular about exactly
what should be done. He told the one to 'fuck ' me, just like that.
We were doing it 'doggy style', and the dark one kneeled on the bed in
front of me and made me suck him while his friend was still at it. After a
while, he wanted us to change positions, so I was on top. I rode the guy's franticly, but he wouldn't come. I thought that they might
be or something. Then the dark haired one started running his finger in
and out of my rectum. You can probably guess where this was leading, but I
had no idea. I looked over into the big mirror on the wall when I felt his
big penis against my ass. He pushed it into me slowly and carefully, not
like the tattooed had done it. I had to lie very still. When they both
had complete penetration, they started to squirm around, so that one would
be going in while the other was coming out. We looked like a sandwich, my
brown body in between their two white ones. Beef on white bread or
something. I was face down on the blond, while the other one kind of
squatted over my behind. I could clearly see it all in the mirror, that
big white log entering and leaving my small brown behind. I felt like a on a spit. It may sound very erotic, maybe it was, but it wasn't very
pleasant for me. The dark haired one finally pulled all the way out of me,
and came on my back. Then he told me to sit up and slide backwards, and
when I had, the blonde's released cock squirted all over my front. They
used my shower, one at a time, then dressed and left, having hardly spoken
a word to me the whole time. I felt better about it after professor Sloan
told me how well I'd done. He sang my praises, hugged and kissed me, and
said I was a 'real trooper'.
It was a couple of months later that Amanda found me. She was a very
beautiful girl, my height, with smaller than me, but with a very
clear complexion, soup plate size blue eyes, and long, strait hair.
She just spotted me by chance on campus, and came over to talk; 'don't you
work for professor Sloan?' I was scared stiff; I thought my legs would
buckle. 'No' I lied. She ignored it. 'I have to talk to you, it's very
important' So I agreed to meet her in her room that same afternoon. She
was very smart; she insisted it be immediately after the class I was headed
for when we met. 'What's this about?' I demanded of her defensively, up in
her room later. 'Sit down' she said, kindly. 'I'm sorry, but I have to
show you this' She handed me a boxed videotape. The title was; 'coloured
coed sluts' The photo on the box was me, with a penetrating me from
behind, and another in my mouth. I very nearly passed out from the shock.
Amanda held me for a long time as I cried. She kissed away my tears, and
showed me another box; 'Coed sluts who love black cock'. It was beautiful
blond Amanda, with a large black penis in her mouth. 'How did you find
out?' 'One of the customers told me. He was enraged when he found himself
on a tape with me in some porno shop, and decided to blow it for Sloan'.
'Customers?' 'What do you think? They pay $250 each per time, more for the
kinky stuff. Except that pair of porn actors. They got paid, I would
guess'. The totality of the betrayal felt like a truck parked on my chest.
I spent that night with Amanda, with her in her bed. We didn't have sex,
but we held each other close all night.
On our second meeting with the police 'vice' detective, he advised us to
let the matter drop. He said that he'd inquired for us, and was told that
it would be very hard to make the case stick, and our names would just get
dragged through the mud for nothing. But as we left the police station, we
both saw, and knew. The captain in the glass office was the first who
had been with me in the room. He had been with my darling Amanda as well.
Neither of us saw Professor Sloan again. He just kind of disappeared from
the university. We changed our dorm assignments and moved in together, and
became lovers. Making love with Amanda was and is always deeply emotional,
so different from what I had been through. Sometimes we toy with the idea
of a return to heterosexuality, and there is a that we both like. We
can both be happy that neither of us contacted HIV. At the time these
events took place, it was supposed to have been a disease. I
would be glad for an opinion, doctor Lewis... what do you think about the
idea of us letting a into our lives? Ace 1999
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