Two Participants

The soothing hum of an air conditioner drifts through the office, filling the void of the girl’s hesitation at the question.“No, not for over two years,” she finally responds. 

The interviewer makes a note. “Any encounters within this period?”

“…Yeah,” follows the pause.

“If you care to say so, roughly, how recently was this?”

A rustling of paperwork fills the moment’s silence as the young woman averts her gaze.

“It was – um, about …uh, 4 months ago.”

“Lastly, have you been looking for any further partners recently?” the interviewer asks softly, making sure not to offend or embarrass the gentle looking girl before him.

Lifting her deep blue eyes to his, she firmly states, “No, just enjoying my independence,” before giving a warm smile.

The interviewer smiles back and turns off the sound recorder on his desk which separates them both in the spacious, finely decorated office room. Laying down his notes methodically, he addresses the girl.

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University of Erotic Artistry

Her first tour of the premises was one she would never forget. The first taste of the torments that awaited within the University of Erotic Artistry.

The classrooms within had been what she expected, with plenty of seminars underway exploring erotic poetry, live nude model painting classes and lectures examining the role of sexuality within the media. What she was met with at a room labelled  ‘discipline room’, however, truly made her realise the extent to which sexuality embodied everything within the premises, both the curriculum itself as well as the punishments for those who disobey the rules or fall behind on coursework and assignments.

A lady was sitting at a table, lightly adding the last details to a beautiful, intricate painting of female genitalia. Wondering how working on this painting was a punishment, the woman then turned to her and spoke.

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The Torment of Denial

“Welcome, Andrea, my dear. Please come in. I am Dr Wand; we have been expecting you!”

The voice was warm and welcoming, enough to put Andrea at ease. The apprehension of turning up to such an isolated clinic was nearly enough to have prevented the usually carefree girl from taking advantage of such an opportunity. A two-week vacation to anywhere in the world just to try on a new prototype bra sounded almost too good to be true, but seeing the small group of researchers spread around the room, some obscured by computer screens, others looking up at her in the doorway, all dressed in white lab coats and looking busy, it all felt so much more legitimate.

‘Just remember…two weeks in the French Polynesia islands,’ she kept reminding herself, to make her go through with it.

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Laura’s Fetlife Meeting

A sharp intake of breath, the prickling shock of realization, Laura had regained consciousness as if torn from the comfort of sleep by the stark horror of reality. From the moment she’d regained her senses, her mind had been racing to make sense of the predicament she found herself in. Laura squinted, the light piercing her vision until she adjusted to the brightly lit room, a sight which both mystified and terrified her. The room was small and bare, surrounded by mirrors which seemed to shine upon the young girl who was bound in the middle of it. Arms hanging from the ceiling, her wrists cuffed together while her legs were spread apart, feet flat on the warm carpeted floor as her ankles had been cuffed and pulled wide apart, leaving little room for movement.

“Please, where am I?” Laura called to no response, struggling to raise her voice as her head swam, the effects of the drug still lingering. She looked at herself in disbelief, feeling so small as the room seemed to engulf her, every angle of her slender frame displayed. How many times she had fantasised about being in such a situation, almost admiring the view as she hung there, spread helplessly, pale blue lingerie clinging to such a delicate, petite frame. ‘But not like this,’ she thought to herself, snapping back to the gravity of the situation, trying in vain to free herself.

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