Work Text:
“Welcome, test subject.”
A feminine, robotic voice greets you as you step into a sterile white room. The automatic door hisses shut behind you. Your mouth still tastes like coffee from the waiting lobby, but the staff wouldn’t let you bring your steaming paper cup into the test chamber. You fight down a yawn as the robotic voice continues.
“Aperture Science thanks you for volunteering to be a part of our experiments. We would like to reassure you that the advertisement you saw on the public transportation was completely truthful. You will be paid $100 once the testing is done. I am sure you will be a wonderful test subject.”
You lose the battle with another yawn. You don’t normally wake up this early unless it’s for a class, and you’re starting to pine for the cheap coffee in the lobby. Hopefully this testing won’t take long, and you can take your $100 and go back to your dorm.
Blinking, you look around. The room doesn’t offer many clues about what the testing will entail. The walls, floors, and ceiling are all composed of identical white panels, with no furniture to speak of. It’s a little... intimidating, how minimal the room is. There’s a circular door behind you, and another on the far wall, but they’re both closed. The only furnishing, if you can call it that, are cameras mounted in each corner of the room. Their dark lenses are all fixed on you, red lights blinking.
...Really intimidating.
“Please remove your shoes in preparation for the testing.”
You hold back a tired groan. This isn’t going to be some athletic test, is it? With a sigh, you sit on the smooth white floor and remove your shoes. You’re starting to wish you had actually read the advertisement on the bus instead of just skimming it. After you saw “$100,” your eyes kind of glazed over.
When your shoes are off, you stand up. The floor is cool under your bare feet.
“Please remove your clothes in preparation for the testing.”
The words make your heart skip a beat. ...Did they say remove your clothes? Your gaze darts up to the cameras, all focused on you. You really should have read the advertisement more carefully.
You swallow, trying to get ahold of yourself. There’s certainly a legitimate, scientific reason why you’re not supposed to wear clothes for the testing. It’s not sexual or anything, it’s... science. Besides, if you back out now, this morning will just be a waste.
You hope the cameras can’t pick up how red your face is as you begin pulling your clothes off. You drop them in a pile next to your shoes, one by one, until you’re standing in no more than your underwear. Shivering, you glance up at the cameras. You realize you’re holding your breath as you wait for more instructions.
At last, the voice speaks again.
“Please remove your undergarments in preparation for the testing.”
Your stomach drops. You reflexively turn towards the door that you came through, now closed and silent. The lobby, with its plastic plants and cheap coffee and bored-looking receptionist, beckons to you. Do you have the nerve to go back there and tell the staff that you chickened out? You’ll look like such an idiot if you have to admit you didn’t even read the ad.
“We cannot begin the testing, and therefore cannot conclude the testing, and therefore cannot pay you a very real and nonfictional $100, until you remove all articles of clothing.”
With a frustrated whine, you yank your underwear down your legs and kick it off before you can change your mind. Your face is burning. Your bra is thrown on the pile next, and then you’re standing naked in this sterile white room, under the gaze of four cameras.
“Excellent work.”
You jolt as the panel with your clothes on it lowers, sinking into the floor, immediately replaced by another white panel.
“Your clothing will be returned to you at the conclusion of the experiment.”
A grinding noise rumbles under the floor, and you take a nervous step back. With a hum, the panels in the middle of the room slide open, and a platform rises. It all latches back into place in a few seconds with a series of clean mechanical clicks.
“Please step onto the platform.”
Cautiously, you take a step closer, trying to get a better look at it. It’s a different material, smooth and dark, covered in closed panels. There are two foot-shaped pads on the platform. Cold instinct makes the back of your neck prickle. You really, really don’t want to put your feet there.
“Please step onto the platform.”
With an uneasy groan, you retreat from the platform and skitter back to the door. This has gotten too weird. You’ll just tell the staff that you’re a moron who can’t read and you wasted their time.
There’s nothing on the door resembling a knob, handle, or other means by which to open it. Uneasily, you knock on the door.
“Hello? Hey, I don’t think I’m in the right room—”
“Banging on the door is not part of the testing preparation.”
You freeze. Slowly, you turn, as though you could find the source of the voice. All you can see are the cameras, red lights blinking.
“You are in the correct room. Please step onto the platform.”
You... you thought the robot voice was pre-recorded. Self-consciousness hits you like an anvil.
“S-sorry,” you mumble.
There’s no turning back now. You shuffle nervously over to the platform, hesitate, and finally step on it.
As soon as your feet touch the designated pads, a multitude of panels open and dozens of delicate robotic arms burst forth. Tentacle-like machinery latches around your legs from ankle to knee, metal cuffs latching into place, caging your legs.
“H-hey—!” You jerk against the mechanical bondage, a panicked reflex. “Hey, wait, is this supposed to happen?”
“Please lift your arms.”
You can hear the whirr of more panels opening above you. You flinch as robotic limbs descend from panels above.
“O-okay, I don’t think I signed up for this kind of testing—”
“Please lift your arms.”
It’s more fear than obedience that makes you raise your arms. They’re immediately snagged by the machinery, locked in mechanical cages like your legs. The only part of your body left free is your torso, and your limbs are trapped so tightly that you can barely wiggle.
“Thank you for your cooperation. Please remain still while the monitor collar is applied.”
Something cold and smooth brushes your neck from behind, then snaps shut around it. The metal is cool against your racing pulse, intimately snug.
“Excellent work. You’re being very good.”
You almost whimper. The machinery holding your legs slides in grooves across the floor, spreading your legs further apart. The floor becomes a flurry of activity as panels slide open and closed, a multitude of robotic arms rising up around your naked body. A fifth camera pops up from the floor, shiny black lens pointed up, focused between your spread legs.
“It really is amazing what humans will do for one hundred dollars.”
One of the myriad robotic arms lifts, capped with a smooth white ball. You flinch as it creeps up between your legs, hovering in front of your exposed pussy.
“Hh-hah w-wait—”
“Testing preparation will begin.”
With a hum, the ball begins vibrating. It brushes your thigh, a teasing buzz creeping over sensitive skin.
“O-o-oh god—”
The vibrating ball nestles up against your clit, and you melt with a dizzy moan. If you weren’t held in place by machines, your knees would buckle with pleasure. The ball rotates slowly, humming sweetly against you until you’re all but drooling.
Machinery clicks behind you, a noise that prickles the back of your neck like needles. You go from limp to steel-tense as your heart jumps. It feels like someone just flicked open a switchblade behind you.
“Collecting blood sample.”
A razor-sharp point pricks between your shoulder blades, and your entire body tenses. You don’t dare to breathe. It’s so hard to hold still with the vibrator between your legs, teasing and torturing—
The sharp point against your back becomes a pressure, then a hot slice of pain as it slips past your skin and delves into muscle. You cry out, but it’s tainted with ecstasy. You can feel blood dripping down your back as the sharp metal cuts deeper, your spread legs quaking under the unrelenting vibrations. You can’t... it’s too much...
You cry out as you come, twitching helplessly in your bondage. Your back arches against the clean incision, driving the metal deeper for just a heartbeat and interrupting your moans with a sharp gasp. You shudder as the sharp pressure finally pulls away.
“Oh. That was rather quick.”
Mercifully, the vibrating ball lifts away from your trembling body. Your breath is ragged, your cheeks hot pink. Whoever is watching the feed from these cameras is getting an HD view of your slick pussy, still twitching from your orgasm.
“98% of test subjects lasted longer than you. Oh well. Someone had to be in the bottom percentage.”
You can feel a drop of blood tickle down your spine. It’s hard to catch your breath with adrenaline still spiking through your chest. Is the experiment over...?
A smooth, robotic brush against your thigh makes you jolt. You can feel something coiling gently around your leg, winding closer to your sensitive pussy.
“Oh well. Maybe the rest of your data will be less humiliating.”
“A-ah—”
Slowly, sinuously, the robotic tentacle squirms inside you. You can’t hold back another gasp. It curls up inside you like a probing finger, pumping and rubbing. You’re too sensitive for this much stimulation. When the vibrating ball lifts towards you, you almost sob.
It’s too much, you can barely see straight, if this keeps up you’re going to—again—
The first vibrating touch has you moaning so loud it echoes in the sterile room. The twisting mechanical tendril curls and pumps inside you, probing, while the vibrator hums. For the second time, you cry out and shudder under the overwhelming stimulation, your gasps more labored than before.
This time the vibrator doesn’t even pull away, the probing tentacle not slowing. There’s no time to catch your breath.
“...Or not.”
There’s a hiss of heat as a new robotic arm lowers from the ceiling towards you. Something glows on the tip, something that draws your pleasure-dizzy vision.
“Did you know that your test subject serial number is 3104558?”
...It’s a brand.
Seven backwards numbers, followed by the Aperture logo, are written in metal on the tip of the robotic tendril. It glows cherry-red and shimmers with heat. A strained sob escapes you as the brand lowers towards your heaving chest. You don’t have the energy to twist against your mechanical shackles, fucked into exhausted submission by the machines. You can feel it still probing, vibrating, drawing wrecked shudders from your sore body...
“I just thought that was funny.”
The brand is so close that you can feel heat on your breast. Terror has you clenched tight around the pumping machinery. You’re weak and quaking from the vibrations against your clit, escalating pulses of pleasure even as the brand lowers towards your bare skin...
“...Do you even get why that number is funny? Probably not.”
Searing metal presses against your skin and scorches through it. Pain eclipses pleasure for one white-hot moment, and this time your screams are from agony. The brand lifts away from your seared skin, leaving it to hiss and steam, and you gasp with lungs that can’t take any more air. The rush from the pain has your heart racing and your vision blotting. Pleasure blooms through your body as the pain recedes, so overwhelming you can’t breathe—
Breath punches out of you as you come for a third time, your body quaking under the buzzing vibrations. You don’t have the strength left to scream.
Finally, the vibrator pulls away and the tendril slides out of you. You’re nearly blacking out where you stand, your chest heaving. As though satisfied with their work, all of the robotic limbs begin to slide back into their panels, leaving you to tremble and gasp.
“Congratulations. Preparation for testing is now complete.”
As your limbs are released, you collapse. Your wobbling legs won’t support you. The panels all snap shut, the machinery gone, leaving your sore and overstimulated body limp on the floor, wearing nothing but a softly beeping collar. The fresh brand throbs with pain, but aftershocks of pleasure creep through you.
“Your performance has been very, very adequate. You successfully existed during preparation with only moderate humiliation. Good job.”
Still gasping, you push yourself up on shaking arms. As you lift your gaze, the door at the far end of the room slides open.
“We can now begin testing. You and I are going to do so, so much science together.”