Orgasm University

Jennifer
Kacey

Victoria’s been called frigid by every boyfriend she’s ever
had. Having never gotten off during sex with even one of them probably has
something to do with it. But none of them knew how broken she really is. She
not only hasn’t gotten off having sex, she’s never orgasmed…ever.

Then she sees an interdepartmental memo for a university
study that claims it can help with her little problem. Once she signs her name
on the dotted line, Dr. Hotlidge finds all the right buttons to push.

He’s been looking for the perfect subject for his grant
study, but something’s been missing from each of the women he’s questioned so
far. Everything changes when Jane Smith #129 steps into his exam room.

It’s supposed to be anonymous, clinical research and nothing
more. But when he finds her inner submissive hiding just below the surface,
they both find more than they bargained for.

An Exotika®
BDSM erotica story
from Ellora’s Cave

Dedication

To Sufi & BRJulia—thank you each for the inspiration…

Acknowledgements

Nina Gooden—now we take over the world!

Carrie Jackson—for accepting this story, as long as it
didn’t have a “sexy” enema scene. OMG—still the funniest email ever!

Taylor Cole—YOWZA!

No matter how tightly she crossed her legs she couldn’t stop
the shimmy. Tiny tremors raced up from her stiletto heels, which continued to
vibrate at a nervous frequency.

She tried focusing on the magazine she’d already flipped
through three times, but couldn’t have told anyone in the doctor’s waiting room
if she’d read
Marie Claire
or
Horse and Hound
.

Throughout the day in her office across campus she’d decided
to cancel her appointment a gazillion times. The same number of times, plus
one, she’d convinced herself there was no harm in coming.

Coming. That pretty much said it all, or not at all in her
case.

A two-syllable word, completely absent from her sex life and
the reason she sat in the nondescript tan vinyl chair waiting for her name to
be called.

Jane Smith #129, at least that’s what it said on the top of
her mandatory anonymous paperwork. She’d already filled out and handed back the
stack of signed forms to the friendly receptionist behind the sliding glass
partition.

Victoria tossed the magazine onto the glass of the metal
coffee table in front of her. The multicolored stack of pages slipped from the
slick surface, landing in a puddle on a rather beautiful rectangular rug. Her
aim was remarkably akin to her ability to orgasm—close, but no cigar.

She stood on shaky legs, her gray linen pants falling precisely
to the top of her arched foot while she straightened her tailored white blouse.

She retrieved the offending pile of articles and
advertisements, laying it safe and secure onto the low table. If only finding
her “O” face were as easy, she wouldn’t have to be here. If any of the other
John Hopkins department heads found out she’d signed up for this study, she’d
be the laughingstock of the whole university. She could even lose her job as
assistant dean of the physics department if word got out she—

A door off to the side whooshed open and her heart lodged in
her throat as a nurse said, “Jane Smith #128?”

A shy brunette maybe a few years older than her, grabbed her
purse, making her way toward the woman who held the door along with a
clipboard.

Victoria collapsed back into her chair, thankful she was the
only woman left in the light-blue-walled room. The colors were lovely, the
décor probably tasteful if she could focus on anything other than her rapid
pulse.

She glanced out the window, trying to calm herself. The
sunset from the top floor of the graduate research building warmed her.

Being called “frigid in bed” by her last three boyfriends
had really started to wear on her confidence. Something she’d never had to deal
with before, growing up in a wealthier-than-average household.

Nervousness was the sign of a weak mind, her late father had
always told her. She never got anxious at doctor’s visits. Normally, there was
no point, but her appointment with Dr. Hotlidge was as far from normal as
anyone could get.

She smoothed her shoulder-length curly hair, closing her
eyes, taking a deep breath.

Learning why she couldn’t orgasm was something she’d wanted
to know for a long time and honestly didn’t think anyone was out there who
could help her. The interdepartmental memo that crossed her desk a few weeks
prior said differently. It was a memo like so many others she’d seen and tossed
in the round file. But the research this study was granted money for? A
spotlight might as well have illuminated it from above as little kinky angels
sang the Hallelujah Chorus.

They were looking for women just like her.

Ages twenty-five to forty-five, open ethnicity, healthy,
with a recent checkup from a physician proclaiming them functional in every
way. Well, almost.

But it wasn’t research on a new skin care product or a diet
pill. No, this was something much more important. This was about orgasms. Well,
the lack of her ability to have them during sex, or in the shower, or with
toys. She batted a big fat zero at the ripe old age of thirty-three.

She almost grabbed another magazine for distraction, but an
unbelievably sexy guy stepped up to the counter behind the glass partition.

He gestured toward a folder, saying something she couldn’t
hear. Whether the glass was soundproof or if all the blood rushing in her ears
blocked the vibrations she didn’t know.

He flipped through the contents of the folder then looked
right at her.

The world paused for a few brief seconds.

Her heart pounded away in her chest and at the top juncture
of her thighs. That realization alone made her look away. Tunnel vision clouded
her sight because she’d stopped breathing. She took a deep breath, blinking
rapidly to clear her vision. When she could see again, she stole another glance
but he was gone. The same female nurse who’d been calling for patients stood in
his spot.

Wondering if it was relief or disappointment running through
her veins would have to be left for another day.

The locked door opened into the waiting room and by process
of elimination it was her turn.

“Ms. Smith, we’re ready for you.”

After grabbing her things, she prepared to bail.

Excuses disguised as explanations swam in her head.
This
isn’t for me. I got called away. You can’t help. I’ll figure it out on my own.

But she surprised herself, going so far as attempting to
smile at the nurse ushering her through the doorway.

“Nice to meet you, Jane. I’m Trisha.” She offered her hand.
Victoria grasped it and was surprised that such a tiny blonde had a good, firm
handshake. She could tell a lot about a person by the way they shook hands.
“Come this way. Let’s get your weight and height.”

Trisha wrote the details on Victoria’s chart. Her height was
average, which was why she and four-inch heels got along so well, and she was a
bit thin. That’s what working fifty- and sixty-hour workweeks got her, along
with an empty social card.

They continued through a bright cream and brown hallway,
past several closed doors. Her imagination ran wild with all the possibilities
that could be going on behind them. Tests, procedures, interviews of what made
certain girlie parts—

“The weather was sure nice today. Mid sixties from what I
heard on the news just a little bit ago.”

Victoria blushed, clearing her throat. “It was. Unseasonably
warm for mid-March in Maryland.”

“Sure was. I’m glad it’s Friday, so we can all enjoy the
weekend. Almost baseball season, should be a good year.”

Victoria wondered if she was going to ask next if she came
there often. She had to stifle an anxious giggle.

“Okay, right over here. Let’s stop in the lab and we’ll get
your blood work taken care of too.”

One tiny prick of the needle and a few vials of blood later,
they were on the move again.

Trisha made small talk the whole time, but Victoria clammed
up the closer they got to the exam room. The nurse guided her inside a room
larger than what she’d been expecting. The snap of Victoria’s shoes popping
against the hard wood floor echoed off the walls.

Trisha slipped Victoria’s folder in a wall hanger by a PC,
then changed the paper on a strange chair in the middle of the room. It was
definitely an exam chair of some kind, but one Victoria had never seen before.
The lights from above highlighted it, reminding her of a carnival ride—for the
naughty.

“Let me grab what you need real quick and I’ll step outside
so you can get undressed.” She opened several drawers from cabinets set off to
one side, pulling what looked like a gown and sheet from them. “Right here’s an
empty drawer for you to put your things.” She pulled the drawer out, then laid
the pile of cloth on the odd chair and turned to leave.

“Go ahead and take everything off. Change into the gown and
cover your lap with the extra sheet. Put all your things in the drawer. We like
for your things to be locked up since you might have to change rooms during
your visit. I’ll be back in just a few minutes and we’ll get started, okay?”

Why she stated it in the form of a question, Victoria didn’t
know, because she’d stepped out, shutting the door behind her before she was
able to utter a single peep.

She glanced around again, taking a calming breath and
willing her stomach to settle.

Less time than it took her to lose her nerve completely,
Victoria was naked and nervous, sitting on the noisy paper covering the exam
chair. The paper crinkled each time she fidgeted, weirding her out about paper
creases on her ass.
Yeah, like that’s what she’s going to be looking at.

At least she’d had the foresight to shave her hoo so she
wasn’t freaking out about that too.

A knock on the door almost made her eek, but she smothered it
just in time. “Come in.”

Nurse Trisha entered and made quick work of taking her
vitals. She grabbed her chart, recorded a few things, then sat on one of those
rolling stools off to one side.

“You’re very healthy. So now that we know you’re fit to
participate in the study I’ve got a questionnaire to go over with you. All of
your information will be kept strictly confidential and please remember we’re
here to help you. The questions are very personal in nature and some people are
embarrassed by them. Please be as honest as possible even if the reasons behind
them may not be apparent to start with. Ready?”

“Boy, if that isn’t a loaded question.” She squirmed a bit
on the chair, rustling the paper. Her cheeks felt hot already and the questions
hadn’t even begun. “Go for it. I’m ready, I think.”

“How many sexual partners have you had? As in, sexual
intercourse with penetration.”

“Umm… Seven.”

“Any same-sex partners?”

“No. My door doesn’t swing that way.”

The nurse smirked, marking down her response. “What kind of
protection or forms of birth control do you use? I know on your intake papers
you said you were on birth control.”

“Yes, I take a low-dose estrogen and I require anyone I’m
with to use a condom. The last thing I need is some kind of STD.”

“Very smart way to think about it. Next, do you masturbate?”

Victoria tried to swallow, half-choked on it going down,
then vaulted into a coughing fit. “Sorry, didn’t see that one coming. I’ve, uh,
tried before but it was about as much fun as a dental cleaning so I haven’t
tried again in a couple years.”

Nurse Trisha made a note on her paper. “Have you ever been
able to orgasm while masturbating?”

Her cheeks heated again. “I don’t think so.”

“From my experience, if you had, you’d know it. And what
about sexual intercourse with a partner? Are you able to orgasm through vaginal
penetration?”

“Kind of?” It came out a question and the paper rustled when
Victoria shifted on the table again. “If I can get there. It seems to kind of
fizzle out.”

“Does anal sex have any effect on the strength or intensity
of your orgasms?”

“I’ve never tried…that.”

More filling out of the form and she flipped to a new page.
“Do you have any kinds of sex toys?”

“A vibrator that a friend bought me. I was stupid enough to
tell her I couldn’t orgasm during sex with the boyfriend I had at the time.”

“Did the toy help you to orgasm solo or during sex?”

“I’ve never tried it actually. My last boyfriend found out I
wasn’t coming with him, and then found out about the toy from my friend. We
weren’t together twenty-four hours later. That was a few months ago and I
haven’t exactly been eager to get back on the sex bandwagon. Sex just to have
it so somebody else can get off gets old real quick.”

“I can imagine that’s mighty frustrating. Do you watch porn
at all?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “No. I don’t have time to
waste.”

More scribbles. “Anything in particular turn you on or off?”

“I don’t like having to tell the guy what to do, what to…you
know…touch. That’s what it devolves into though.”

“Do you get wet when the guy you’re with takes charge? A
dominating partner?”

“Umm…I don’t know. I tend to date educated, seemingly
sophisticated men. But I like a man’s man. Don’t want someone wearing makeup or
shaving their armpits. Blah. I want to feel small and taken care of, protected.
I really like it when—”

A heavy knock on the door hit the delete button on the rest
of what she was going to say. Nurse Trisha’s expression said it all. Shock bled
from the nurse’s face as she mumbled an apology and hurried to the door. Not a
normal occurrence around here, she figured.

Victoria tucked the sheet tighter around her lap, wriggling
on the noisy paper and questioning her sanity once more. A hushed argument
built outside her room, funneling through the crack in the door.

A deep and sexy voice rumbled through her insides, making
her giddy or nauseous, she wasn’t sure which.

“I’ll be taking over this patient for the duration of her
involvement in the study.”

Trisha stammered a bit, adding, “I haven’t even finished the
preliminary questions yet.”

“I’ll finish them so we can begin. May I remind you, I’m the
head of this study and my name goes on the bottom line of each patient’s
record. No one needs to remind me how important this is.”

Silence filled the room and the hallway—and possibly a
two-block radius.

The man speaking… Victoria didn’t actually need to see him.
She knew who he was before he widened the door, stepping inside. The tall, dark
and delicious guy she glimpsed out front behind the glass strode toward her,
with Trisha nipping at his heels.

He pinned Victoria with the lovely hazel eyes she’d seen
earlier. One hand remained in the pocket of his gray pants, holding open his
white coat, revealing a lavender dress shirt and silver and black tie. His lips
tipped up into a half-smile and she couldn’t help but flash him a matching grin
of her own. She wanted to laugh, or run out, or maybe hide in the drawer with
her purse, but she sat frozen instead. Waiting for him to reach her.