OrgasmUniversity Read online

  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

  Orgasm University

  Jennifer Kacey

  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!

  Chapter One

  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.

  Time stopped for a few precious seconds when he extended his free hand to her.

  “Doctor Hotlidge. Nice to meet you, Jane.”

  Her arm moved on its own—since surely she didn’t tell it to move—to touch the dark Adonis standing beside her. The room disappeared. The presence of the nurse was forgotten. A connection sizzled between them, arcing across the distance between their bodies until Victoria wheezed out a breath, placing a hand on her abdomen to settle her nerves. He followed her movemen
ts, searching her face for something she couldn’t begin to comprehend.

  The nurse chattered away, either oblivious to the tension in the air or Victoria was completely misreading it. The man in the coat finally looked over at Trisha and she stammered to a halt.

  Chapter Two

  “Dr. Hotlidge, this is highly un—”

  “Are all of the answers that you’ve gone over so far marked?” He released Victoria’s hand to retrieve the clipboard still sitting on the stool, where the nurse had left it.

  Victoria sucked in a breath, trying desperately not to sound like a wounded gazelle. It sure felt as if he’d sunk his teeth into some piece of her, but she needed to remember she was nothing but a number to him.

  “Yes, of course, and her personal medical history is completed as well, but—”

  “Then that will be all. There’s one more patient to intake in the waiting room. I’ve looked over her chart as well. Please go through the questionnaire with her, but note the inconsistent answers on page three of the initial survey. I don’t think she’s what we’re looking for.”

  He shuffled Trisha out the door, with nary a peep in edgewise, and before Victoria really knew what happened, Dr. Hotlidge sat in Trisha’s place on the stool in front of the exam chair. He was so damn sexy she immediately dubbed him Dr. Hottie.

  “Sorry for catching you in the middle of the questionnaire. I tried to get here faster so we could start from the beginning together, but got held up with some other paperwork.”

  A thrill zinged from Victoria’s stomach to her clit. Her pleasure-challenged button pulsed in a rapid hum of desire. His simple explanation and apology excited her, and she told herself she needed to get out more.

  “I see you’re thirty-three and obviously have trouble orgasming or you wouldn’t be here, but tell me…what do you want to get out of this survey?”

  “I’ve never had an orgasm.” She blurted it out so fast her inner censor gasped, scrambling to cover the admission so freely given. “I mean, in the past I’ve kind of—”