For science

Gilda was so tired. She hadn't slept. It was just impossible. The collar pinning her feathers around her neck refused to let her fall off the edge of this sexual torture into sweet release, and the bulbous silicone jelly toy spinning and buzzing and smearing her with sensitivity tonic refused to let her ignore the burning need. Worst of all, the thick straps were so tight, on her waist, knees, ankles, wrists, elbows, and face, that there was no way she could help herself out of this jam. All she could do was groan until her voice had become nothing, claw the leather armrests until the stuffing poured free, and saturate the seat in her juices.
So when the lights came on, they didn't wake her. They just added a layer of incandescent pain to the smear of needy aches and lust that had dissolved her mind overnight. Some primal part of her brain wrenched her eyes shut. Words she couldn't understand reached her from some bubbly morning person.
"Coming up on eight hours... how are you feeling, Gilda?" She had no idea if she was being addressed, so she didn't bother to react. A poke at her side forced a groan from her. "Hm... not completely braindead... that's a good sign! You're a fighter." She felt a pat on the side of her beak, and the toy finally shut off. Some deep part of her missed it already, but the last vestiges of her conscious mind cried relief. She opened her eyes to watch the purple blur walk around in front of the lights, babbling some things at her. Were they even at her? She couldn't tell. There sure were a lot of things around this room. She'd get a look at them tomorrow. Yes. Sleep. That was what she needed. Her eyes begged to be closed.
"... and after orgasm times under conditions of asphyxiation, I think you'll be ready for another couple of denial sessions, with increasing intensity. It's possible with enough conditioning that you might be able to climax with the control collar on, which is fascinati- Gilda? Are you falling asleep on me? Hello?"
* * *
It was just as bright where she woke up again. There was a taste of rubber in her mouth, her shoulders ached, there was some weird pressure on her wings, and her vulva felt raw. She was dry, at least - flat horizontal on a different leather surface. Dark ceiling was all she could see, and her neck ached to turn.
"Ah! Now you're awake." Gilda's heart sank. No demented fever dream was this. The dweeb was still there, clipboard in hand, maniacal grin on her face. "Since you were so bored by my orgasm and pleasure tests, I thought I'd give you something more interesting. Doesn't that sound fun?"
She blinked to clear her eyes and get a good look at Twilight. The lab coat was gone. Today, she'd equipped herself with a laboratory-grade corset to push up her cleavage, industrial-strength fishnets, sterilised thigh-high boots, and flame-proof latex gloves. Science indeed. Gilda began to pant in alarm and tug on whatever bindings were keeping her hands above her head.
"Aw, you're all excited! Don't pull anything too hard, or you'll mess up the readings. Now, let's get going, we've got a lot of tests ahead of us!"
Twilight went around double-checking the rack, making Gilda aware of each element in turn. The leather cuffs holding her wrists over her head, the belts binding her legs together and to the end of the rack, the wired pads nestled under her feathers hooked up to equipment she couldn't see, the gears and cranks around the rack... a cold shiver ran down her spine. She distinctly hoped that those parts of the rack wouldn't see use, but she knew that hope wasn't very realistic.
"Now. Hold sti- what am I saying. Of course you're going to hold still!" Twilight giggled, sitting next to her and leaning over her. She pinched her beak around the gag in it. Leather straps hung slack around it, and a tube ran from the gag over the side of the rack. Twilight fiddled with some buttons and switches out of Gilda's view, and there was a mechanical hum to her left. The gag swelled rapidly, leaking some excess air with a hiss from tube joint. Her tongue pressed down, and the rubber ball kept filling until it took up all of the space in her beak. Then, it kept going. She groaned as it pressed her lower jaw painfully away. It felt like it was going to snap right off, and she screamed.
No sick crack came. Her beak pressed up against the leather straps either side, limiting the gape of her jaw. The inflation of the bulb continued. With nowhere else to go, it pressed further back into her mouth, starting to make her gag. There was nothing to come up and nowhere for it to go, so nothing happened, other than making her writhe and wretch uncomfortably for a number of minutes, while the rubber pressed against all the inner parts of her mouth until they were immobilised and raw. Her eyes were already streaming from the pain.
"Hmmm... good jaw gape tolerance... evolutionary holdover? Not sure..." Twilight scribbled away on her clipboard. "While we wait for the sustained test to run through, let me just get a couple of samples..." She hopped off and returned a moment later with a pair of tubes. She jammed them into the machinery beside the rack, and pulled them up again. They came up with clear, corrugated pipes trailing from them. The devices themselves seemed to have suckers at the end.
It was only when Twilight planted the things on Gilda's nipples that she noticed something... off about them. She was sure that her chest puppies had grown a few sizes since the last time she saw them. Something in the water Twilight had given her yesterday? She could barely see her paws behind them, and she was lying on her back! The ache of her stretched out jaw distracted from any pleasurable sensations she might have gotten from the devices clamping to her nipples with vacuum suction and starting an internal pumping mechanism. White, creamy griffon milk started to spurt from them. The sight was bizarre to her - didn't she need to be a mom for that?
There sure was a lot in there. Her breasts visibly shrank from the milking, and her nipples grew at least half an inch along the tube. After a minute, they started to feel sore. It was less like they were gently being squeezed, and more like they were being pulled on by weights. The flow of milk eased off, from spurts to trickles, and finally nothing. As if she was sure there was more, Twilight left them on, and poked the flesh around to encourage it. It was tender and uncomfortable, and Gilda winced. Finally, Twilight rolled her eyes and released the suction. The tubes fell off by themselves, brushing the raw nipples on their way down.
"Hm... double the dose for tomorrow. Ensure solution is not saturated... could be tricky to reach minimum sample size every day if that's the case." She clicked her pen and set the clipboard to the side. "Now! Enough playing around. Time for some real tests!" Gilda squeaked. Those weren't real tests?
Twilight went up to the head of the rack and wrapped her gloved hands around a lever. It was one of twelve on a wheel, each one with a leather-wrapped steel handle. This was no crude, medieval torture tool - this was a sophisticated instrument of science! Twilight licked her lips, and started to pull. The gear ratios meant that lots of turning translated to little real stretch, but that only made it more satisfying. The ratchet and pawl clicked rapidly as the wheel spun freely, taking out the slack, and pulling Gilda's arms taut above her head. Gilda whined and struggled and writhed until the tension was enough to strip that privilege from her. Once taut, Twilight let go of the lever. It remained in place, keeping her griffon subject tightly stretched between the strap looped around her cuffs, and the mess of heavy straps fastening her ankles to the foot of the rack.
Twilight petted her on the side of the beak, her jaw still aching. The machine had dropped its pressure to barely bearable levels, and Twilight just tightened the leather straps to remove the slack, and ensure the pressure against the soft parts of her mouth remained firm. "This might get a little intense." Gilda whimpered her protest, but nothing distinct got out before the lever had turned another few notches. Now the stretch was on - her shoulders strained, her wrists and ankles felt tight, and her back twinged. Another few notches only made the mild pains louder, and her joints cried out for relief. She released a heavy groan through her nostrils, and tears began to stream again.
"Already? We're just getting started! Fine, one notch at a time, then..." Click. This was only worse. The interval of the lever climbing each notch was just long enough to stay one step ahead of the endorphins, keeping her on the descending staircase of agony. Click. Click. Click. The groan became a scream. Everything was overwhelming suffering. Her arms were going to pop right off, she was sure of it. Her body drowned in signals telling her that her shoulders were about to fail. This was going to be the end of her.
There was a snapping in her ears. It was a dry, open snap, not a wet pop. Her arms still felt disembodied and her shoulders stiff and burning. Somehow, the edge had been taken off the pain. It reignited, but in a distinctly different way. She gave a guttural whine, and her arms were rotated to her front. Numb as they were, they were still attached to her, wrists bound together still, with a severed orange strap around the chain. "See? Nothing to worry about. The strap has a failure tension just short of a pony's dislocation tension. Perfect for these tests!" Twilight patted her shoulders. They remained a burning source of agony. "Rest up for a minute while I set up the next test. I'd like to do more stretching, but I don't think you'll be able to take it." Gilda groaned, shuddering a sob. "No, I'm worried for your safety, you can't go again!"
Stress hormones mingled in her body while she waited. Her brain had decided the best way to cope with her arms being in such pain was to pretend they really had fallen off. She stopped feeling her claws, or being able to move them, but on the bright side, it dulled the pain from her shoulders. Minutes passed, and she closed her eyes. Maybe she could make this all go away... she might have napped somewhat in the next half an hour, but she was rudely awakened by Twilight clicking as she entered the room.
"You can't be falling asleep again, can you? Nothing pleases you, honestly." Gilda grumbled angrily. What was wrong in this bitch's head? Enough feeling had returned to her arms to feel Twilight returning them to their place above her head and fastening them to something, and the twinge of deep ache as her shoulders rotated. Fearing more stretching, she wriggled weakly and whimpered. Twilight placed a gloved hand on her chest, gently pressing her down. "Shhhh, shh shh. Relax." Gilda settled and breathed. Twilight was smiling at her in the most caring way she'd seen yet. "Or I'm going to have to get the muscle relaxants." Oh. That's why she was smiling.
A trolley had arrived with her. After a moment setting it up, plugging things in and testing things, she lined it up with the side of the rack, and craned four metal objects over Gilda, with a down-facing grate. She stopped and hummed, then fetched a leather blindfold. "Test one thing at a time, of course!" Gilda couldn't offer much resistance as she put it on.
The gag started to leak water at the back of her throat. She had no option but to swallow. Four dimly mechanical noises came from above, and her body felt like it was bathed in sunlight. It was actually... kind of nice. "Timer started... let me just get a reading." Twilight left something metallic between Gilda's breasts. It seemed to heat up quickly. Come to think of it, everywhere was heating up quickly... She took it off. "One-ten. That should do nicely! Hoo. These lamps are just spilling their heat everywhere. I'll be right back! I need a drink."
Gilda whined. Her feathers were already starting to feel damp with sweat. That's what the water was for! She tried to wriggle away to some cooler spot, but she was bound too tautly. All it achieved was moving her on to a spot where the black leather had heated up quicker than her body, pressing it uncomfortably to her bound wings, and in the time it took her to move back to her original spot, an inch away, that had heated up too. There was no breeze in here. Nothing to make her sweat all that effective. She barely needed sweat at all, since she was built for cold climes and high winds. Getting this hot was never a matter of course.
Twilight took her sweet time getting that drink. Maybe she'd been caught? She wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Maybe someone was coming to help her - but maybe Twilight had only been "caught" in her racy "lab gear" and was making an embarrassing explanation, and nobody was coming to the rescue. The heat was making it hard to think straight. It wasn't long before time was starting to blur, and her grip on consciousness was becoming slippery.
Water drizzled on her face, bringing her back to full attention, partly from the cold relief to her head. "Hey!" Twilight must have returned while she was delirious. "No sleeping on me!" A weak groan arrived in response, and a shuffle. Drizzles of more water, flicks to her beak, and pinches to her still-raw nipples kept her on the fringes of alertness, until it was clear that it would work no longer.
She didn't remember the heat lamps turning off, or being pulled off the rack to hang from the ceiling, or Twilight talking about doing one of those pick-me-up tests. She only snapped back to consciousness when she felt the sharp snap of a leather strap across her exposed butt. When did that become exposed? She grunted when the world suddenly became real again, and her rump erupted in fire. Smack. Smack. Six spots on each cheek, again and again, with medical precision. Each strike made her sing - after a fashion. The gag still filled her beak to an uncomfortable degree, her shoulders still ached, now also burdened with taking her weight, and her head still ached from the heat... by now, this pain was mild. Even pleasurable. Yesterday was heaven by comparison. The whipping rated about average.
She wasn't sure if she'd have lasted an hour without the prior sensory overload, but she was grateful to be unhitched from the ceiling and let crumple to the floor. Her ass throbbed, and she could tell it was red. All screamed out, she just passively accepted Twilight picking her up and moving her around. She floated into the air, the gag came out, and the cuffs came off. There was a tender purr in Twilight's voice as she handled her. "Since you've been so good today, let's finish with something kinda nice, eh? How does that sound?" A groan came back.
Setting Gilda down on what seemed to be a leather-upholstered lawnchair, Twilight retrieved and applied her "pajamas" - a heavy rubber leg-wrap with four belts around it, an equally heavy rubber straitjacket, and a gas-mask-like hood. The eyes were blacked out on it, it covered and plugged her ears, and the internal form of it kept her beak clamped shut. Once all these were tight on, a loose rubber sack enveloped her, from paws to neck. All this was pleasant - cool, reassuring. Then the sack began to hiss. Loose sheets filled out with air over the next minute. Folds worked out, and then she found herself immobilised between two beds of air above her and below her. Exhilarating, almost. But then it kept going. Breathing began to become difficult. Her legs pressed uncomfortably tightly. Her still-raw breasts felt like they were being crushed, and soon she couldn't breathe in to even whimper from discomfort. It settled at this tightness, the compress enough to render all struggles null. Occasional heavy presses in some places made her whine silently and wince. Was Twilight sitting on her?
On the verge of blacking out, the pressure released her. She panted and gasped for air. Twilight remained awfully silent - but maybe that was just the earplugs. The full release of pressure revealed that Twilight had in fact been lying on the inflated sack, and came to rest on top of her.
She pulled a pair of boots on to her, and strapped them on firmly. The cool gel on the bottom was a welcome relief, even though it tickled her pawpads. Wait, tickled? This couldn't be good. Or it would be very good. She had no way of telling. At once, the pads began to spin, and the air tube in her mask closed. She drew a breath to laugh - the first good feeling she'd had all day - but nothing came. Her head was already swimming, and she went instantly to the precipice of madness. Her chest heaved and shuddered. Her legs writhed in their binders, and her pussy began to dampen the seat. She lasted a mere ninety seconds before the automatic blackout prevention fed her air and shut off the tickle boots. She panted and gasped for everything she could get out of the tiny tube. All too quickly, the cycle started again.
After the sixth repetition, she was truly spent. She barely clung to consciousness as it was, and anything else would send her over. Twilight smiled, stroking her feather crest. Flicking her nipples through the straitjacket to keep her whining in discomfort, but caressing her nonetheless. An open tube emerged from a circular panel on the floor. It dripped with water, slid on metal rods, and tubes and wires hung from it. Lifting Gilda up again, she placed her in the tube, hitching the mask, straitjacket and leg binder to the metal skeleton of the tube, and connecting the mask to a breathing tube. She said a "see you tomorrow" that Gilda didn't hear, and the tube sank into the floor, immersing her in water.
After the brief panic of expected asphyxia that never came, she settled down. The water was... cool. It soothed her injuries that made her whole body feel like it was slowly burning from the core. Ordinarily, the restraints would make her restless, and the dark silence would unnerve her, but between how exhausted she was and the gentle floating, it meant one thing: sleep.
* * *
Deep, dreamless sleep followed. She had no energy to do anything else. Even waking was questionable. Without clocks or daylight or anything at all, she had no idea whether she was supposed to perk up for imminent release, or try and rest some more ahead of an exhausting day ahead. Part of her didn't want to wake up. As time dragged on, further sleep became more and more difficult. At some point, she had a panic, and began to thrash. Her talons couldn't cut the rubber and the straps kept her bound too securely - all she did was wear herself out and scream for nobody but herself to hear. She eventually settled, panting and sobbing, and returning to rest. She couldn't see the timer on the top of the tube, keeping it locked, even from Twilight, for a minimum of twelve hours.
The beep above that she couldn't hear signalled the end of the minimum isolation period. Another hour passed in semi-conscious oblivion. The water seemed to get thicker, more viscous. Not much - but enough to feel the difference as it circulated between her legs, under her tail through the jacket.
She felt movement, and the mechanical hum felt deafening. She felt the water pressure drop, and the level descend over her head and shoulders, and down her body. It stopped supporting her, and left her hanging from the straps. Magic removed them and lifted her through the air. The boots slipped off her, the leg binder unwrapped, leaving her legs hanging free, and the straitjacket came off. Her arms and wings didn't want to move, even though they could. They just hung limply as Twilight removed the gas mask hood. Stunned by light and sound, she clamped her eyes shut and winced at every little noise, and her beak hung open.
"Did you sleep well?" The dweeb was chipper this morning. All Gilda managed was a limp groan. "Excellent! Let's get on with today's tests." Her nude body floated through the air to somewhere, beginning to shiver from the cold. She dripped the thickened water behind her, her wetness magnifying the coolness of the room. Her legs were pushed together, and something tight slid along them. More to the point, it stung where it touched. It brushed her here and there at first, but the further it got along her, the more of her was in contact. Her legs were eventually parted and pulled down two separate sleeves, finally wrapping them snugly. The skin of her legs was now on fire. Every pain receptor seemed to be firing constantly, only whatever she tried to do to get away from it, the magic held her tightly, and nothing she could do would get her away from it. The tight layer of pain continued up her body. There were sleeves for her arms, pockets for her wings, and a tight neck, ensuring that everything apart from her head, claws, paws and tail had this stinging surface clinging to it. Her breasts had swelled in size again, filling the pockets in the suit, her nipples under access zip.
Twilight lowered her over the rack and dried her feather crest with a towel. Gilda squirmed and groaned, her body trying to get away from the sting, but failing. Twilight walked around her, continuing to work. "The tonic in that water should keep the suit gliding and functional all day. Let me know if needs a booster, okay?" No distinct response. She slipped her hands into leather mittens to keep her talons from tearing the suit, and began strapping her to the rack by ankles and wrists again.
Gilda finally chanced opening her eyes. The suit she'd been slipped into was latex, she guessed, by the elasticity and the shine, and red. It stung where it was pressed to her, which was everywhere, and when she let it sit, and when she moved. There was just no escaping it. Magic forced her head back and her beak open, and the rubber bulb gag slipped in. Panic set in. "Oh! Almost forgot." A silicone tongue-shaped thing covered in nubs floated into view. A zip in her crotch opened that she didn't know was there. She was still sensitive enough to squeal as it slipped in. Bigger than expected, it wormed all the way in to her vagina, filling it deep. The zip closed up, and the tightness of the latex kept it hilted inside, and pressed a secondary nub to her clit. At least there was some pain relief - it began to vibrate gently as soon as the zip closed.
With the extra layer of constant pain, everything blurred together. The intense spikes of pain from the near-jawbreaking stretch of the gag, and the no-less-terrifying moments of agony as the rack threatened to wrench her arms off, were less overwhelming to reach and come down from, but the suit kept her from ever getting full relief. Most peculiarly, the vibrator seemed to match the intensity of the pain, delivering her a confusing mixture of messages. At the height of the rack's stretch, it was loud enough to hear, and her scream took a detour into a moan halfway through. The milking was the greatest high of pleasure. The vibrator seemed to ramp up as the pumps sucked away, leaving her writhing and moaning despite herself. By the time she was sucked dry, she was humping the air for more.
The heat lamps were too much to bear. She passed out within minutes, the discomfort overwhelming. Twilight tried three times to keep her conscious under them for an hour like yesterday, but every time, she lost consciousness quickly. With a sigh, she moved on to the whipping, and made a note to double the pressure test somehow. With her pain sensors already firing, the whipping, even if more vengeful and intense than yesterday, seemed less present. Duller. The suit smoothed out the highs with the lows, leaving her in this constant mild agony, with shocks of vaginal vibration when she was struck. Her head hung limp through it, giving only weak whimpers and shuddering when she was hit.
Twilight made good on her note to double the pressure test in every respect. After being straitjacketed, masked and having her legs bound, like yesterday, pain suit left on underneath, the inflatable sack pumped up to twice the pressure. There were twice as many belts around it to even out the crush, she was pressurised for twice as long, and after deflation, she was put through it all a second time. At full pressure, she tried to scream, only there was no air in her lungs to. The omnipresent agony of her entire body filled her every thought - but for the tiny amount dedicated to the silicone tongue squirming away at maximum power.
She didn't move after the pressure test. She was still breathing - just about. When the tickle boots went on, she could only squirm and shiver weakly. With something of a wicked smile, Twilight chained her to the rack in the tube and lowered her into the water, tickle boots still squirming away. Whether anything would be left of her in the morning was another matter.
* * *
Twelve hours of madness followed. Gone was the restful calm of black silence and the soothing of the cool water suspending her. She squirmed involuntarily from the unceasing tickling, unable to escape the burning sting over her whole body, or the confusing, nagging pleasure in her loins. There was no way she was reaching a climax from it, it was too weak... but it was still enough to keep her from sleeping.
She didn't even notice when morning came. Consciousness became meaningless. Her breathing was weak and staggered as the mask came off. Twilight peeled the suit back, removed the boots and slipped the vibrator out, and the nothingness was bliss. She shivered on the rack as she was dried, her wrists and ankles pulled back, and the gag inserted. Gone was the panic and whimpering - just laboured breaths. Then something interesting happened as the tests started.
As the rack inched back, she moaned through her nose. A needy, pleasured moan, that only grew deeper and more desperate the tighter the rack got. Tears streamed out, but so did vaginal fluid. Was she really this readily conditioned. Scribbling on her clipboard, Twilight left the rack just short of the tension cord's snapping point while she took notes. Then, she fetched the orgasm control collar from the other day and slipped it on to her subject. She was going to need it.
The gag stretching got a similarly mixed reaction, as did the milking. The heat lamps did nothing but make her squirm and whine in need, rubbing her thighs together. She laughed during the whipping, between moans of mixed anguish and delight. The compression was a lot like the heat lamps, only silenced by the crush on her chest. And the breathless tickling, well... the collar proved its usefulness, as Twilight was quite sure she was on the edge of climax throughout.
Relieved of her mask, her straitjacket and binder, she was placed on the rack loose. She'd stopped fighting back. Twilight removed the brakes on the rack, and wheeled it behind her.
"You've been a fantastic subject, Gilda. I'm going to be poring over this data for weeks, at least! You have no idea how much you've advanced the study of griffon physiology." A weak groan came back. "It's time for you to get some rest. You've earned a lot of it." A door opened, and they passed through it. The hall was dimly lit, with coloured panels lining the walls. A figure seemed to cut a reflective form in each, like it was part of the panel. A lit up label went over each, matching the silhouettes - pegasus, earth pony, unicorn, changeling, zebra, buffalo, things Gilda wouldn't even recognise if she was fully alert... and an empty panel near the end. A sheet of latex hung loose on the floor, from a pipe frame on the wall with another sheet behind it. Tubes stuck out of the bottom and hung from the top. The label at the top said "griffon".
Magic lifted her up from the rack and pressed her back to the wall, pinning her wings. Twilight thought for a moment, looking at the sharp things over most of her body. Then, she took a thick set of straps and wrapped it around her beak, putting a blunt cap over the pointed tip, and threading food, air, and water tubes into it. Similar mittens to before slipped over her hands after balling them up, this time inflating them into thick balls, putting two layers of rubber and a thick cushion of air between her talons and escape. As for the claws on her paws... Twilight decided the tickle boots would do. She left them on low, getting a squirm from Gilda as she was pressed to the wall. After attaching the crotch strap for waste collection, Twilight zipped up the panel, and pressed a button. The air sucked from between the two sheets, until she was sealed between them, airtight. Only the outline of her body and the tubes running two and from it evidenced that she was there. The quiet hum of the tickle boots kept her trying to wriggle, but in the dry rubber prison, there was no moving.
Twilight walked away with the rack, smiling. "Don't worry about getting the apology around. I'll pass it on to Rainbow Dash." The door shut behind her, and the lights went out.