Eliza was beginning to regret signing up for this clinical trial.
She had been sitting in the waiting room of the clinic for god knows how long. People of all ages have come, sat down for a bit, and then left when they realized no one was coming to get them. Eliza was considering leaving as well.
Is this some sick prank? She thought to herself. She had left her school dormitory at seven o'clock, and what's the time now? Oddly, the waiting room has no clocks, and she had left her phone in her room.
Eliza had seen the trial advertised on a bulletin board by her RA's office. 'Medical Trial Seeking Volunteers. $10,000 to be Awarded Upon Completion. Contact Number at Bottom for More Details.'
There had only been a few slips of paper left dangling from the page. She took a strip, and texted the number, no answer. Texted again, no answer. It wasn't until she phoned that she finally got a response. A woman answered the phone, young.
'Hello! Who is this?'
'Hey... uh- I'm Eliza. Morozova. I'm calling about the trial?'
'Oh! Yes, yes. The Doctor will be happy with the turnout,' the woman said, putting an odd emphasis on the word Doctor before giving her the address.
'Be here at 7:30AM! And no electronics please, they'll, interfere with our equipment. The Doctor looks forward to seeing you."
Eliza thought about getting up, about walking out the door like everyone else. Her gut told her to leave, go, and don't look back. But, along with bills, groceries and her already amassed student loan debt, she couldn't pass the money up, and she hated that.
She folded her delicate hands into her lap when she heard two sets of steps approaching from the hallway. Her anxiety suddenly spiked as she sat up straight, wringing her hands together.
"Hmm, not as much of a turnout as I'd liked." A masclunine voice said as Eliza turned her head to the sound. The individual was a tall man, with slicked-back brown hair and a five o'clock shadow running across his angular jawline. He wore a white button down with black trousers held up by a leather belt, a white lab coat peeking out under his slightly longer trench coat.
"Plenty of people called, Doctor. At least ten, maybe more-"
"Quiet, Luce," The Doctor commanded with a flick of his wrist as the girl immediately became silent. This must be the same girl from the phone, Eliza thought. She was a small, platinum blonde wearing a skimpy white dress. She stood a couple paces back from the man with her hands held behind her back, subservient almost. Despite being yelled at, she still stood confident with a smile on her face.
"My name is Doctor Volkov, this is my assistant, Lucille. Thank you for showing interest in our test."
"Yes, about that," Eliza replied. "What are you testing, anyway? I wasn't given much information."
"It's a simple drug test. I'm sure Lucille can tell you all about it when she has the opportunity, but I am already running late. Please, follow me."
The Doctor turned on his heels and walks swiftly down the corridor he came from, with his assistant following behind. Eliza reluctantly got up and trailed behind them.
"Speaking of late, what happened? I've been waiting here for hours."
Volkov stopped by a black door labeled Treatment 1. "An unforeseen complication," he responded. "But I can assure you that it has now been fixed. I'm sure you can second that, Lucille."
Lucille gazed up at him, for a fraction of a moment Eliza could be sure she saw her eyes glint with fear. "Yes, it's been corrected," she smiled. "No need to worry."
Doctor Volkov grabbed a silver key out of his pocket and opened the door. "I must be off for a moment. Lucille will take care of you while I'm gone."
Before Eliza could respond, the man had already left.
--
Lucille had made small talk with Eliza while she took her height, weight and other vitals before a question arose in her mind.
"Lucille, why aren't you writing anything down?"
"I have a fantastic memory! The Doctor always praises me for it, that's why he entrusts me with these tasks. Oh! That reminds me. I almost forgot, you need to strip."
"What?" Eliza protests, what the fuck? "Why?"
Lucille paused for a second, her mind spacing out before snapping back to reality. "We just need to make sure you're not carrying any contraband."
"Contraband?"
"Electronics! We don't want them interfering with the tests. Is a necessary precaution."
Eliza sighed as she stood up from the chair. She was sitting in a desk chair, not wanting to sit in the large blue seat positioned in the middle of the room, almost like the ones at dentist's offices, until she had to.
Lucille stared at her, her gaze unmoving as Eliza furrowed her eyebrows and glared back.
"Oh! Yes yes, sorry," Lucille said, turning around.
When she was sure that the assistant was no longer looking at her, Eliza reluctantly began untucking her cotton turtleneck from her jeans. She slipped her freckled arms out of the sleeves and into the torso fabric before pushing it up over her head, exposing her lace bra that really didn't cover anything at all. She reached her hands behind her back, unclipping the clasp. Her torpedo tits bounced out, perky and firm. Her hands moved down her waist to the fly of her jeans, which she unzipped. She pushed her pants down her hips, falling to the floor as she stepped out of them, kicking them to the side and removing her panties. Eliza looked down at herself, at her naked body, and sighed.
"I'm done."
On cue, Doctor Volkov entered the room, carrying something small in his left hand. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the large chair in the middle of the room.
"Can I at least put my clothes back on?"
"That won't be necessary. Please, sit."
Eliza walked over to the chair a scooted in, the cool plastic sending a shiver down her bare skin
"Lucille, prep the injection," The Doctor said, handing her the item in his hand, a small vile.
"The full dosage?"
"Yes, I have a feeling we'll need it."