The teenagers’ weekend party turned into almost a gang rape; then the electrostimulation kit appeared, and things got really weird. Part 2/4
“Haha! Look, boys, they are insatiable!” Donald took a deep gulp of beer, then pressed the bottle first to Maya’s, then to Nina’s lips. The girls drank greedily. “Seems… A weekend party is far from its end!”
“Break!” Pete raised his hands. “I need a break!”
“Me too!” “Yeah, I’m spent!”
The boys laughed, then looked at the moaning and squirming girls, begging for more pleasure.
“But it’s a shame to leave them like that… Not fair.”
“What can we do? My cock is soft as a rag!”
“Maybe… I can help.” Donald’s eyes gleamed with a devious spark, a mischievous glint that they recognized from school. He’d always been a troublemaker with too much cleverness for his own good. He retrieved an old, heavy-duty briefcase from the back of his father’s closet and placed it on the floor next to the sofa with a thud. He opened it.
Inside, nestled in grey foam, was an assortment of sleek, menacing-looking devices: wires, small metal pads, a black control unit with a series of glowing dials and sliders, and several more glistening metal items.
“What’s that?”
“My parents are into electrostim. I know how to operate this thing.” He raised his head. “Wash them in the shower while I change the sheets. The next act of the play is about to begin!”
The boys brought the limp girls to the bathroom, where the shower sent hot water cascading over them. With careful hands, but a clinical roughness, they washed the girls down, soaping their flushed skin, cleaning the trails of sweat and semen that painted their thighs. Both were like ragdolls, legs giving way, leaning heavily on the boys supporting them. But they giggled and kissed whoever was close. They were so turned on that they could only think of more pleasure now.
When they came back to the living room, a fresh linen was spread on the sofa. The control unit from the briefcase was placed nearby. “Lie down,” Donald ordered. The girls obeyed without a word, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks, too exhausted to question, and watched him with interest.
Leo and Rick, with a disturbingly practiced efficiency, began applying the small, sticky electrode pads. One pair went on each girl’s lower belly, just above the line of their pubic hair. Another pair on the sensitive skin of their inner thighs. Another pair on their armpits. Sets of metallic rings on their toes. The girls moaned as the metallic clamps closed on their nipples, and gasped when a final, larger clamp closed directly over each of their already-swollen clits.
The cool adhesive pressed against their hot, hyper-sensitive skin sent a shiver through both. They exchanged a look. This was new. This was beyond anything they’d experienced. A knot of fear, cold and tight, formed in Maya’s stomach, cutting through the post-coital haze.
“W-will… it hurt?” she managed to squeeze out.
“Quite a bit! But you’ll like it!” Donald and Sam finished lubricating long, shiny metal plugs, and pushed them deep into the girls’ gaping, swollen, throbbing holes, leaving only the cords outside.
Nina squealed, then said in a weak, husky voice, “Oh god… It’s so cold…”
Donald knelt by the control unit. “Here we go, ladies. Welcome to the future.” He flipped a single, large switch. “Lowest power first.”
A faint hum filled the room, almost inaudible beneath the thumping bass of the forgotten music.
A low-level current, a mere tingle, passed through their lower abdomen. It was like pins and needles, a strange buzzing vibration deep inside them. Not exactly unpleasant, just… alien. They exchanged another nervous glance.
“Okay, level one,” Donald announced, turning a small dial with a decisive click.
The tingling intensified. It was a continuous, deep-seated thrum that resonated in their very bones, in their guts. The sensation was centered on their pelvis, a persistent, vibrating fullness. The boys crowded closer, their expressions a mix of cruel curiosity and barely disguised arousal.
“Please… It’s weird…” Maya whimpered. Her body tensed against her will. The vibration inside was strange, unsettling, a forced sensation she couldn’t escape.
“It tickles,” Nina managed, a nervous giggle escaping her lips despite the dread coiling in her stomach. “It… it’s making me jittery.” Her muscles were twitching on their own.
The current pulsed, a steady, insistent rhythm. The boys watched, captivated. The girls were completely at their mercy, their bodies wired like machines.
“Let’s increase the power,” Donald declared, turning another dial, this one labeled ‘Intensity.’
The change was immediate and absolute. The tingle morphed into a deep, powerful throbbing. The current now felt like a heavy, invisible fist, clenching and unclenching deep inside them. It was a sensation of being invaded from within, a pressure that was both incredibly stimulating and deeply unnerving.
“Oh God! Too much!” Maya cried out, her eyes opening wide. “I— I cannot…” And, suddenly, she arched and screamed in a sharp release. The orgasm felt unlike anything she felt during masturbation or sex. The pleasure was more electric, more artificial, a jolt from the inside that forced itself through her being. Her whole body convulsed in a seizure-like spasm, a long, drawn-out cry forcing its way from her throat; the metallic clamps bit harder into her nipples and clit from the forceful contraction.
“Whoa! Look! She’s already cumming!” Sam laughed, pointing.
Nina’s own moans escalated into a choked scream as the same jolt hit her. Her back snapped off the sofa, a perfect, tense bow, her toes curling so tightly they cramped. She tried to thrash, to escape the overwhelming sensation that was tearing through her nervous system from inside, but her body was no longer her own. It was a puppet dancing on electric strings. A strangled, high-pitched cry tore from her lungs as her own climax crashed over her, a raw, violent storm of pleasure and pain. Her thighs, slick with a new sheen of sweat, quivered uncontrollably.
“That’s level two,” Donald said casually. “Hold on, girls.” He turned the ‘Frequency’ dial up slightly.
The nature of the sensation changed. The simple throbbing became a staccato pattern, a rapid-fire series of jolts, tremors, pangs, and stretches. “Aaaahh! Ah, ah, ah! Aieeee!” Maya shrieked, unable to control the sounds erupting from her throat as each jolt forced a small convulsion. The pleasure was no longer a wave but a storm, a million sharp points of bliss and agony all happening at once. Her mind fractured, unable to process the sheer volume of input.
Nina wasn’t screaming anymore. The sound she made was a dry, desperate rasp as the relentless current pulsed through her. Saliva drooled from the corner of her mouth, her eyes wide and unseeing, rolled back in her head. Each shock made her pelvic floor clench violently around the metal plug, which, in turn, amplified the sensation, creating a terrifying feedback loop. The clamps on her nipples sent searing electric lances into her chest with each contraction.
“Level three,” Donald announced, his voice a disembodied sound in Maya’s roaring ears. “Let’s add the music!” He attached the controller to the music center. “The current will now follow the music waves and beats. Let’s dance, haha!” And he changed the music to the fast metal track and amped up the sound.
The world became a cacophony of screaming guitars and crashing drums, translated directly into Maya’s nerves. The rapid-fire riffs sent flurries of tiny, stinging shocks through her body. The deep, resonant bass notes became immense, rolling waves of pressure that built deep inside her, building from their pelvis into a crushing peak before releasing, only for the next beat to start the cycle again. When the singer screamed into the microphone, her clit would seize with a jolt so intense it was blinding, a white-hot spike of sensation.
“AIEEEEEE! NOOOO! STOOOP! I’M DYYYYING! HYYYYYYY!”
Words became meaningless; her vocal cords seized by the same electricity firing through her muscles. Her entire body was a live wire. She lost all control; her bladder voided onto the sheets in a series of uncontrollable, shaming spasms, but she was too far gone to process the humiliation. It was just another sensation in the overwhelming symphony of assault.
Beside her, Nina was a silent, arching statue. Her feet twitched and flopped with a life of their own. Her arms were locked stiff, her fingers curled into claws. A constant, thin stream of tears leaked out of her tightly closed eyes. But the fast convulsions of her body, perfectly repeating the rhythms of the music, gave out the same orgasmic storms that assaulted Maya. And, with a sudden cry of painful rapture, she shot the biggest squirt they ever saw, outmatching any porn video! Her eyes were fully open now, unblinking and vacant, her pupils swallowed by the whites. Drool trickled from her slack lips.
The boys were completely mesmerized. They stood, frozen, watching the two girls writhing under the influence of the music. They could see the precise moment the high-hat cymbals crashed, sending a visible, shuddering spasm through their taut bodies. They watched as the heavy chorus hit and both girls’ backs bowed in unison, their mouths opening in silent screams as a new, massive orgasm was wrenched from them. Sam absentmindedly stroked his half-hard cock, his face a mask of disbelief and awe.
“They’re… they’re cumming with every beat,” Rick whispered, a note of sacred reverence in his voice.
The song ended, replaced for a second by a sudden, breathtaking silence. The current stopped. The girls collapsed onto the blanket, their bodies slack, sweat and other fluids glistening on their skin in the dim light. There was only the sound of their harsh, ragged gasps for air, their chests heaving as they tried to pull oxygen into burning lungs. For a blessed moment, there was only emptiness.
But it was a cruel illusion.
“Intermission!” Donald announced. “Let them drink!”
They pressed two large, full bottles of beer to the girls’ lips, and they eagerly sucked the cold liquid with parched throats. The beer tamed their thirst, but did little to soothe the raw burn. The brief respite wasn’t a reprieve; it was the calm before the final storm.
Donald turned the knobs again, to the maximum intensity right before the red zone.
“The final act. More rhythm, less chaos.”
And he changed the track to trance, with an insistent, hypnotic, rhythmic beat that vibrated through the floorboards. It was a deep, resonant four-on-the-floor pulse, the kind you feel in your chest at a crowded nightclub.
The current that hit them this time was not a jolt, but a deep, powerful hum. It was the bass line given form and purpose. It started as a low vibration deep in their pelvis, and with each beat of the music, it swelled into a profound, immense wave of pressure, spreading from their toes to fingers, stretching every muscle fiber, every nerve ending, to its absolute limit.
“NNNGGHH!” The sound was dragged from Maya’s throat, a guttural moan of forced surrender. The rising wave wasn’t a spike of pleasure but a buildup of impossible tension, a clamp that was tightening and tightening with every measure of the song. It built, and built, and built, until her entire body was a single, quivering bowstring drawn so taut it felt it would snap.
Then, the wave crested and crashed.
It wasn’t a release. It was an implosion. The pressure collapsed inwards, and a convulsion wracked her body so absolute it was almost a seizure. A long, senseless wail escaped her lips – and the same one came from Nina’s mouth – the sound of a being unmade by sensation. For a single, horrifying second, their vision vanished, replaced by a brilliant, starless white. They felt their anuses and vaginas clamping with impossible force, and the metal plugs got almost crushed inside them.
Then the beat dropped, and the pressure was gone, leaving only a hollow echo and a buzzing residue.
But the music continued. A new wave began to build. Slowly. Inexorably. The humming returned, stronger this time, spreading deeper and wider. Every muscle in her body screamed with the effort of resisting the forced contraction, but she was losing. She could no longer distinguish where her body ended, and the current began. She was the current. The sensation was no longer external; it was being generated from within, by her own rewired nervous system.
And then the wave crested again, and she was shattered.
“Nuh-nuh-nuh-no… please… s-stah… ah…AH! AH! AHHHH!”
A ragged cry tore from her lips as her hips bucked, lifting off the sofa. This climax was not like the others. It was not pleasure. It was a circuit overloading. A violent, complete short-circuiting of her entire nervous system, rewiring her pain and pleasure centers. By her side, Nina arched in the same pose, her skin crimson, her face contorted in a grimace of highest rapture and pain mixed together. Both girls were losing control, their bladders emptying again in a reflex to the overwhelming shock to their nervous system.
And then they both fell limp, their bodies twitching to electroshocks, but nothing else.
“Oh shit!” Donald quickly turned the dials down. “I’ve sent them too far!” He turned the controller off. The girls stopped convulsing. “Check them up, quick!”
The boys leaned close, pressing their ears to the limp chests and lips, and looking for the pulse on the girls’ wrists.
“Phew!” Tom straightened up. “They are okay. Breathing right, heartbeat right. Too fast, but it’s slowing down to normal. Just passed out.” The other boys nodded and sighed in relief. “Damn! The show is over, haha!”
“We should clean them.” Rick joined the others, removing the electrodes. “They must rest after this.”
“They looked beautiful, though,” Sam sighed, looking at the unconscious girls. “In these endless seizures. Never seen anything like this for real.”
“Let’s get them to Donald’s bedroom,” Nick suggested. “They need to sleep.”
They carried the girls, who lay motionless and completely limp in their arms, into the neat bedroom. They gently placed them on the large bed, close to each other, pulling the soft blanket over them. Maya’s skin still had an unnatural pinkish hue, and Nina’s face and chest were covered in a rash of red dots. They both had a slightly glassy look on their slack faces.
“Sleep well, princesses,” Donald whispered. The boys filed out of the room, shutting the door quietly.
“Let’s clean up the mess and go buy more beer and pizza. And maybe watch a movie.”
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