“I strongly suggest you don’t ejaculate,” Doctor Lotta Payne cooed in my ear. “Of course, Miss Suckswell here, besides being a capable lab assistant, is an expert on getting men to do just that, whether they want to or not. And believe me, you really don’t want to cum. She’s good, isn’t she? I hear she swallows.” 

Miss Reelly Suckswell was indeed delivering an unbelievably delicious blowjob to my hard cock as I sat firmly strapped into an adjustable bondage chair. I was currently naked and reclined on my back in a forty-five-degree tilt, my legs spread wide apart in stirrups. The brunette had been my research assistant for over a year now, and although she was a beautiful young woman, I never knew about this talent of hers, or took advantage of it. My loss.

She must have slipped me a powerful sedative last night in my coffee since we were the only ones working in the laboratory so late. I woke up here about an hour ago in this chair, stirred awake by Doctor Payne shooting something into my groin with several long and painful injections. Then the two women applied electrodes to my genitals and turned on the power, torturing them for quite some time.   

My former scientific collaborator continued her rant: “It’s just that the nano-bots I injected into your bloodstream are now fully charged, thanks to the current we’ve been running through your cock and balls since then. I’ll bet the electricity was...unpleasant... to say the least.” 

Oh, yeah, you could say that. With a positive electrode band squeezing my testicles, and a negative one wrapped tight to the shaft of my penis, the sensations varied from tickling to agonizing, seemingly in computer-controlled random sequences. The pain was never enough, however, to fully cancel my erection. 

For while I was squirming under that electrical assault, Dr. Payne and Miss Suckwell were keeping me aroused—and themselves amused—by nibbling my nipples with their teeth and pulsating my prostate with buzzing vibrator probes, among other erotic actions.  

They also kept me visually stimulated by shedding their initial coverings of lab coats to reveal stunning fetish outfits. The brunette, Reelly, was in a tight red crotch-less bodysuit made of sheer—very sheer—lace that highlighted her marvelous C-cup breasts. The blonde doctor’s outfit consisted of only a few thin leather straps that did nothing to conceal her gorgeous double-D tits and shaved pussy. 

A few minutes ago, Reelly had removed the electro-stim devices from my privates and started ministering to my aching cock with her very skilled mouth and hands.  

Dr. Payne continued: “The micro-bots are all gathered in your genitals now, waiting to be activated by your orgasm, at which time they’ll spread throughout your body and kill you, slowly and in unimaginable agony, over the course of two or three days. Maybe longer, if we can keep you alive that long.” 

She was describing the “Demon-Bots” she had developed secretly, on the side, as she helped me program my analgesic nano-bots. 

Once injected into the bloodstream, the microscopic MedBots that I had invented would seek out and connect directly to the source of pain in sick or injured patients, then block the signals of only those neurons that were firing. They would do so quickly and efficiently, without the side effects common in chemical pain relievers. The system was revolutionary and would make us both billionaires.  

Her perverted version, however, was designed to cause agony.  

It turns out my partner had a dark side to her brilliant mind, with a touch of sadism and depravity. I had always known of those tendencies, but she promised she could keep them in check. I accepted her at her word because she was the best in the world at programming microscopic machines.  

My mistake. And I was going to pay dearly for that misjudgment. 

Early in our professional partnership, Lotta and I had tried out a romantic/sexual relationship, but I broke that off quickly. She seemed more interested in binding and hurting me than sharing love and affection. 

I recalled the breaking point in our aborted affair:  

We had been spending the weekend at a country place owned by some friends of hers. That Saturday night found me hanging by my wrists from an overhead beam in a barn, being flogged by Lotta with a nasty single-tailed whip. She was aiming to strike every square inch of my naked body from neck to ankles, except for my genitals, which she assured me she was saving for some kind of “special treatment” later.  

I was nude, but Lotta was dressed for the occasion; cowhide chaps, leather boots, an open vest that barely covered her naked nipples, and little else. I was trying to plead for mercy but could not articulate my safe word because of the massive leather gag she had strapped onto the lower portion of my face.  

I had agreed to the bondage, but not to the suspension, the gag or the heavy whipping. If it wasn’t for the timely intervention when her friends entered that barn, I’m not sure I would have come away without injuries or permanent scars.  

I did not fire her at that point; I needed her programming expertise too much at that point in the program to cut her off completely. 

But as we reached the final testing phase of our research, I discovered her secret side project: to develop a version of the Med-Bots as a form of torture. Rather than blocking out pain signals, the Demon-Bots would instigate them, in very controlled and agonizing pulses throughout the body; even in internal organs and other hard-to-reach places. 

As majority partner of our small research firm, I fired her on grounds of breaking the morality clause in her contract. I gave her a great severance package and the promise of a fair portion of my future earnings, also per the contract. That was three weeks ago. She didn’t like it, but she left, and that should have been the end of the story.  

Obviously, it was not. That’s why I was drugged, kidnapped, and transported to this facility, wherever it was. And that’s why I was strapped to this chair with my legs spread wide and my privates open to their abuse. 

Apparently, Dr. Payne had spent those three weeks building her own little laboratory to produce Demon-Bots and was currently testing them on me. She must have had the inside help of my own lovely assistant, Miss Suckswell.  

Lotta said, “Reelly here has been very helpful in sneaking me a supply of bots that I re-programmed to do my bidding. In return, she is going to share in my wealth and notoriety when we supply these to villains and tyrants around the world. 

“Criminal enterprises,” she explained, “have become high-tech; why not the tools they use: torture, intimidation, and revenge? With my system, enemies can be injected once and then subjected to carefully controlled suffering over the course of hours or days, with no risk of premature unconsciousness or death. No blood, no muss, no fuss, which is exactly what’s in store for you, Thomas. You’ll be our guinea pig.” 

Early in the session, she had commanded me to remain silent, but I could hold my tongue no longer.  

“Please don’t do this, Lotta,” I begged. “You’ve made your point. I’ll take you back. You can do this project on the side, just as long as it’s secret and not linked to me. I’ll do anything you want.” I rambled on and promised her anything. 

She laughed and forced a gag into my mouth, the same one she had silenced me within that barn. This time, those friends of hers were not around to save me. She laughed.  

“The fact that I’m using your own ejaculation to trigger the “Agony Cascade,” as I call it, is just a bit of fun, just a reminder that you once fucked me and then rejected me, Thomas. You missed out on some wonderful experiences.” 

She knelt close to where Reelly was massaging the head of my cock with the muscles located deep in her gullet. The girl ceased her deepthroating efforts just long enough to kiss Lotta, deep and hard. The two women then started fellating me in tandem, coordinating their efforts in a breathtaking two-woman blowjob. I had a feeling they’d done this before.  

It was wet and sloppy, noisy and uninhibited, just the way I like it. The ladies used their tongues, lips, and hands to stimulate every erogenous zone—cock, balls, anus, nipples—within reach, to drive me to an orgasm that would doom me to days of torture. They stopped just shy of that goal, as Lotta stepped back to check a panel that monitored my body’s responses and controlled the bots.  

She said, “You just couldn’t see the wonders that servitude to a dominant woman like me would bring; the pleasure that subservience and controlled pain can provide—not pain for me, of course, Thomas. There will only be pain for you, after a moment of exquisite rapture. Yes, exquisite.” 

She turned a knob on the control panel that had been set on “Low” and moved it to “High.” Something in my groin kicked in, like a sports car going from zero to sixty in nothing flat.  

“Can you feel it, sweetheart? Can you feel my bots inside your genitals right now, sending waves of nearly unbearable sexual sensations from your groin to the pleasure centers of your brain?” 

I could feel it. I was getting outrageously horny. I needed sexual relief more than I needed food or water, or even oxygen. I writhed in my unyielding bondage, lost in a sea of lust and desire. 

“Haven’t you wondered that, despite all the electrical agony I've subjected you to in the past hour, that despite the danger you’re in, you’ve been responding to Miss Suckswell’s blowjob with all the eagerness of a seventeen-year-old virgin boy? 

“That arousal is a side effect I’ve been able to add to the programming in the past few days,” said Doctor Payne with a laugh. “If I couldn’t turn you on sufficiently to make you my submissive, Thomas, I made damn sure my little Demon-Bots would.” 

Doctor Payne watched the display with the rapturous eyes of a madwoman. I could feel my orgasm building; the last one I would ever have. The last moment of human pleasure before... 

“The Agony and the Ecstasy, Thomas,” she said. “They’re both going to happen for you. Just not in that order.” 

I tried to hold my orgasm back; I really did. To get me over the edge, the two women applied a pair of powerful vibrators to either side of my rock-hard cock shaft as Reelly flicked the glans with her tongue. With a guttural scream, I finally erupted in wave after wave of massive semen surges. I thrashed around within my tight bonds, I saw stars, and then. . . 

I relaxed and tried to catch my breath. I didn’t die. And there was no pain; only the pleasure caused by the biggest orgasm I had ever experienced, here in the dungeon of my favorite professional Dominatrix.  

“Well, that was impressive,” smiled Mistress Jasmyn.  

“Fuck yes,” added her assistant Tracey, as she wiped my gooey man-juices from her face.  

“I just love your fantasies, Thomas,” the Mistress chuckled while she removed the gag from my mouth. “Very sci-fi. Very inventive, with a wicked and detailed backstory. But honey, the names you picked for us are maybe a bit too silly.  I almost broke character every time I called Tracy 'Reelly Suckswell.’ Perhaps that’s a little too...on the nose?” 

“Okay,” I said “Next time you can choose the names. Uh, are you going to let me out of this chair?” The women had made no move to do so.  

“Not yet,” replied Jasmyn, with a sly smile. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m having some friends over this evening, and we want to try out some new techniques and new gadgets. You’ve always said you were willing to be the guinea pig at one of my Femdom League training sessions.” 

I agreed, of course, but told her I wasn’t sure I was up to another strenuous round of erotica after that massive download. 

“Don’t worry, Thomas,” she assured me.  "You’ll have a couple of hours to rest and recharge that lovely set of cock and balls before they arrive.” 

With that, she took her leave to get ready for her guests. Tracey gave me a sponge bath to clear away the saliva, sweat, and semen that had accumulated in the previous hour.  

After wiping down the bulk of my body, she lovingly cleaned my genitals with soap and water and then rubbed in some oil. My cock was already responding to her touch. She gave me a smile and a lusty look as she continued her intimate massage; so much for resting the poor guy before the party! 

“In the meantime,” purred Tracey as she pumped me, slowly and deliberately, “why don’t you tell me what roles Jasmyn and I are going to play next time?” 

“You two are vampires,” I replied. “Sexy female vampires who capture young men like me for sustenance. Except that, instead of sucking blood from their necks, you suck other fluids from another part of their bodies...”