Subjects Needed

You read the ad on the local campus message board:

"Volunteers needed for research project on the effect of tone variation on focus and dynamic learning.

$50 for two hours' time, food is available, flexible to your schedule.

Scan the QR code to submit an application."

You'd seen countless similar notices and had even volunteered for a few. They all inevitably followed the same boring procedure: Sign some waivers, fill out a questionnaire, do a puzzle, make a choice, play a game, maybe fill out another questionnaire, go home. Easy money.

When you scan the application, you get a faint sense that something is a little off... none of the studies before required you to list your sexual orientation or submit a picture of the front and back of your student ID to be selected... but maybe that was just new policy.

You click send and very soon hear the ping of a new e-mail confirming your appointment.

Fifty bucks would definitely ease some of the guilt off of getting drinks this Friday...

***

The Teacher's Assistant at the front desk greets you pleasantly when you arrive on Saturday-- pleasantly enough that you feel a slight surge of annoyance. Your head still aches a bit from last night, and you're not exactly feeling chipper.

She extends the usual packet of papers to you, and you notice her long, pointed nails, freshly lacquered, and the solid metal ring around her wrist. That draws your eyes up to pay more attention to her - the shirt that's just a little too low cut, mascara... her makeup was well done, but not subtle, drawing your focus towards her jewelry and her eyes.

No way she's a TA. An employee?

As she reads out the instruction, you catch a faint smell -- perfume? Not exactly. It feels both calming and invigorating--like aged pine or soft soil... but you can't quite place it... and you realize you haven't been paying attention to anything she said.

"Just sign here, here, and here. As we discussed, there's a calcium tablet and a glass of water to your right. Please drink it and follow the yellow tape to the testing room. Thanks, love!"

Calcium tablet? She must have explained that while you weren't paying attention. You take it quickly and move on, the woman following behind, thinking maybe you need something to help you with focus after all.

***

She sits you down on a leather stool. It's wide enough to be a bench, really, but it was clearly only meant for one person, as it faced a single station. Above you is a visor and earphones suspended from a cable, and in front of you is a console with two buttons, one black, one white.

A man in a white coat walks in and casually introduces himself as Dr. Roberts, striking up small talk while he tinkers with the equipment until your curiosity insists:

"The notice mentioned this was about sound waves and learning? What's the visor for?"

Dr. Roberts pauses and smiles- "It's a combined system. We match audio in both ears to video projected to separate sides of the brain. I'll have to talk to Rebecca about making that clear on the announcement..."

He motions to pull the earphones and visor down over your head but stops before getting all the way.

"Rebecca should have already told you, but just as a reminder: if you're hearing a sound in your right ear, no matter what's playing on the visor. Hold down the black button on the right. Same with the left ear and the white button on the left. Do you have any questions?"

You settle in for another boring experiment. For 50 bucks, though, you'll play their game.

"No, doctor - let's do it."

And your hearing and vision go dark.

***

You're not sure how long you wait until the sounds start.

Whatever effect they're supposed to have, they make it really hard to focus on the buttons you're supposed to push. You start to feel both drowsy and alert, relaxed and focused, and... aroused. Wet. Warmth and euphoria start to work their way up from between your legs, you notice the pleasant rubbing of your nipples against your shirt, your jaw starts to stiffen just a bit, your face flushed with warmth.

You almost get enough clarity to question what's happening when the video starts.

It's a static pattern, waving back and forth in blue and white, then black and white, then back to blue? You're not exactly sure. It's hard to think. The tones start to sound like something specific. Words? Groans? You try to pay closer attention, to make out exactly what they are, but it's confusing, and the arousal isn't helping.

The doctor left - maybe you can reach down to play with your clit? Or maybe you're on camera. You didn't see a camera. It's all so confusing, and the closer you focus on the sounds, the louder they get, but the harder they seem to be to understand.

The static pattern, too, seems to be forming together into shapes. Like forbidden channels in the static of old hotel TVs, you start seeing silhouettes, figures, then clearly bodies in a tangled mess of skin and sweat.

You should question it, but you don't. Can't? You don't care anymore if they're watching - you pull up your skirt and stroke your hands along your cunt, feeling just how wet you've gotten- wetter than you've been in your life. You don't know why, but you feel the urge to bring it to your mouth and smell it. Taste it.

Fuuuck.

What was once just bodies moving clearly becomes sexual. You see cocks and cunts exposed, then stroked and fingered, then fucking in and out until the pile becomes an orgy.

You desperately want to be in it, to feel it. You finger yourself frantically, breathing heavily, your arousal and pleasure rising but orgasm seeming farther and farther away. You barely notice when Rebecca and Dr. Roberts enter the room and approach you, carefully studying you for your responses. The two work together to strip off your shoes, socks, and shirt without disrupting the assembly, and although a flash of instinct warns you that now is the time to escape, another louder impulse screams that finally you can be a good girl and get to cum. Where did that come fr...

The doctor eases you down until you're lying on the bench. That's why it was so bi... before pushing a button on his remote, and your point of view starts to change. You're moving closer and closer to the pile of bodies until you're right with them - you can almost smell the sex - Or is that me? - when you see a gorgeous man's hips - his cock - approaching your face. In sync with the video, Rebecca slides a dildo down your throat, clipping the strap behind your neck, and Dr. Roberts eases another into your cunt.

***

Something snaps. The sounds. The video. The arousal and euphoria. The tactile feeling of being stuffed and used. Dr. Roberts fades away. Rebecca - and the rest of the outside world - ceases to exist, and you find yourself in a tangle of bodies sucking and being fucked until time loses meaning for you.

Eventually, the scene changes. The dildo in your mouth slips away. A naked young woman places a warm, lubed plug in your ass and clicks a collar around your neck. You look down and see a maid's skirt short enough for the plug to be clearly visible, stockings, and heels. Around you are what appear to be fancy dinner guests in a lovely, dark, study, the tables and bookshelves made of frosted glass and fine wood. Another girl dressed exactly like you is sucking a man's cock to your right while her hand carefully cups ashes from his cigar. Of course. That's what I am. I'm here to serve.

A woman motions for you to come towards her across the room, gently lifts her skirt, works her carefully manicured fingernails through your hair, and pulls your mouth right up against her asshole. No words - you know exactly what to do. You start with the broad flat of your tongue, wetting the hole and the smooth skin around it, then slowly point your tongue and enter the woman as she gasps with pleasure and slowly grips your hair more tightly.

Your sudden, rocking orgasm surprises you - she holds your head still as the waves cause you to lose nearly all control of your body... and for a brief moment, you feel the headphones. You feel the weight of the visor. You wait this is wrong feel a sudden prick in your right arm and the faint voice of Rebecca:

"The drugs were wearing off. This should keep her going for a few more hours..."

And the outside world fades away.

Your arousal spikes so hard that all you can do is squirm and drip and moan. Your body feels so hot, until the outside world changes again...

***

You look around and see what could only be the bedroom of a teenage boy. Framed jerseys of athletes you don't know hanging on the wall. Study desk strewn with homework. A tissue poking out from the trash can in the corner of the room.

You look down to see impossibly full, round breasts... and a sizable cock. You can't help but reach down to stroke this strange cock - your cock, and feel the sensations as they work through your brain. Inexperienced as you are, you start to fold your fingers together over the head before making a ring of your hand when your beautiful mother walks in the door dressed in a gorgeous yellow dress that would have fit right in a 1950s Sears ad... if it wasn't so short.

"Now now, you know better than to play with yourself like that..."

She steps towards you, slipping off her pretty white heels, her wedding ring somehow standing out as she raises her skirt to climb onto the bed:

"Good boys let their mothers do the work..."

No Yes! I'm not a boy! What is going...

She lines herself up over you and reaches down to caress your nipple as you moan in confusion, fear, arousal. You feel her wet slip grip the tip of your cock and start to slide down before you blink and the scene changes again.

***

You can't move. A few college-age boys play some video game in the corner of your vision when you feel another one come up behind you and pick you up overhead.

You fly up so quickly. How...

"All right, all right, whose bright idea was it to bring the sex doll?"

Sex doll? It started to click. Your mouth forced open. Eyes unblinking. The only sensations you could feel were your mouth, cunt, and asshole... and something about the thought of being nothing but a latex sleeve made you orgasm in waves that rocked your body, ever the more frustrating because you couldn't move a muscle.

"Claim it now, or I'm going to make a fucking mess out of it!"

He lowers you to his side and carries you with him towards a door. Bathroom? Bedroom?

"Speak now or forever hold your peace."

A part of you wants someone to speak...To tell him all the boys should share you in the center of the room.

***

You have no idea how long you've been in the machine before the visor comes off, and then the earphones. There's no one in the room with you, your clothes are on, and everything seems perfectly normal... except for how incredibly horny you still feel, how wet, and how out of place.

Maybe I just feel asleep? What a dream, though...

At the front desk, Rebecca hands you another paper, this time a mental acuity test, then asks you boring questions about what you remember. You don't tell her the truth.

You collect your $50 and walk to the bus stop, tap your card, and take your seat in a daze.

"Leaving Emoryville, next stop, Townsend."

After a few quiet minutes to process everything you'd experienced. Dreamed? You feel a hand work its way through your hair, pull you back against the headrest, and the flat metal of a knife against your neck. You freeze - not sure whether to scream or moan, you're still so damn aroused - when the unknown man leans in to ask:

"What makes you think you can get on a bus naked like that... and not get raped?"

You look down. You are naked. How could that... the cock that suddenly stuffs itself in your mouth ends that train of thought. Every native urge tells you to bite or freeze or resist, but instead you relax your jaw and work him deeper down your throat.

"Oh, fuck. What a slut. I bet you wanted to get raped on this bus.

No... no I didn't... but I do... but?

"Leaving Townsend, next stop, Georgetown."

A new group of men and women join the bus, all looking straight at you with predatory eyes. Your first attacker pulls you down by your hair into the middle aisle and drags you, crawling on all fours, to the center of the bus, right in front of the double doors, where there's room to play.

Where you can be seen by every passerby.

"The little bitch wants it- come take it!"

A faint thought comes through the haze of lust and sex - the calcium tablet. Was it drugged? I thought I was done. Maybe...?

Someone violently pulls your head down until your lips are tasting a very wet cunt, and two men maneuver behind you to use both of your holes.

There are no more thoughts.

***

Five days into the project, Dr Roberts files his report.

"The subject is highly responsive on a predictable timeline. Audio and visual updates appear effective. Added visceral stimulus appears to be key to triggering the dissociative event. Further trials will be needed to direct the subject's illusions to the buyer's interest prior to transfer, but signs are positive."

Dr. Roberts closed the laptop and sighed. The pay was good - the work was even better, given how often during a trial he could wander into the lab and fuck the subjects whenever he wanted. And in the reset time between trials, there was always Subject #1.

Rebecca walked into the room with a trash bag and clean-up kit, her work complete.

"Subject #9 is complete and ready for transfer to the buyer, Dr. Roberts."

She sets the bag down and moves her fingers towards the top button of her blouse, a question. Begging with her gestures, but never acting without permission.

"Can you... can you please piss on me, sir? I've been good..."

Not a bad job at all...