Try as he might, Nate found himself growing nervous at his current situation. The researchers, after taking his record and having him sign the necessary waivers, had carefully affixed a sci-fi looking mask to his face. The mask covered his mouth and nose, with a small canister on either side of the device. The research team had assured him that introduction via gas was the quickest and most effective method of the drug’s administration, hence why they were testing this method first. They then sat him in a padded chair in the center of a blank white room, the only noticeable effects of the room were the door he had entered and what he figured was a two-way mirror staring back at him. He knew this was a scientific experiment, and sometimes those required observation of the participants. Regardless, the idea of being watched by an unknown observer was putting him slightly on edge.
“Nate? Hello, this is Dr. McKinsey. We’re monitoring your vitals from in here and it looks like your heart rate and blood pressure just spiked, is everything all right?”
Nate cautiously craned his head to further investigate the room, trying to find the source of this broadcast. His eyes grew a bit weary as he scanned the walls for a good minute, finding no PA system or speaker in sight.
“My apologies Nate. There is a small microphone and speaker system built into the mask, to make communication between us easier. I hope we didn’t alarm you.” This was Dr. McKinsey again; a voice Nate was quickly become more accustomed to.
“It’s…it’s all right doc, you just caught me off guard is all.” This was all Nate could manage at the moment, his stress still through the roof as he contemplated his current position. New people, new place, in a powerless position, all these factors certainly didn’t help his current state of mind.
“All right Nate just take a deep breath. We’re going to begin the trial now, okay?”
“Oka…” was all he could muster before the canisters began to flood his mask with the gaseous drugs.
Even though the mask was only over the front of his face, Nate sword the sound of the gas being released seemed to echo from all sides of him. As he was mid-sentence, he immediately got a mouthful of the drugs being administered. The first thing he noticed was its minty taste, which was quickly overshadowed by a powerful sensation of lightheadedness.
“Nate, how are you feeling? What’s going through your mind?”
Nate found himself in a carnival hall of mirrors, the ground beneath him obscured by a minty green fog. Unable to help himself, he stepped forward and gazed upon his reflection, the man that stared back not quite Nate. The strange man mirrored Nate’s movements, his ambiguous form raising a small alarm in Nate’s mind, which was quickly silenced by an overpowering hiss. The low rolling fog seemed to rise a bit, and Nate found it hard to remember what he had been doing. Confused but unalarmed, he continued through the maze, the all-encompassing hisses moving him from mirror to mirror, each reflection less focused and harder to comprehend. This continued until Nate came to a final mirror, possessing a reflection that boggled his addled mind. He knew he was staring at something, but every time he tried to focus on the image, his thoughts would fade away like sand through a sieve. One last hiss was all it took to leave Nate lost in that foggy maze.
Nate’s mouth hung slightly agape as he stared blankly ahead of him. His eyes saw nothing before him, his mind miles away in that pleasant foggy place. Even the sharp crackle of an incoming call couldn’t snap him from his stupor.
“Nate…Nate can you hear me?”
“Are you all right? What’s going through your mind right now?”
In any other instance, Nate would have been happy to talk about his troubles, the stress of daily life, relationships, society as a whole. But Nate’s mind wasn’t with him at the moment, instead it was lost amongst the fog and mirrors.
There was a pause in the call as the sound of furious scribbling could be heard.
“Nate, I’d like you to talk about what has you so stressed. What hardships are you facing in your daily life?”
Nate felt a jolt as the words bounced around in his empty head.
Unbeknownst to him, a rather obvious erection began fighting against the fabric of his pants. Had he retained his ability to formulate thoughts, he would be beet red with embarrassment at his current predicament. But alas, where his cognition lacked his body made up for in honest reactions. There was a mild gasp from Nate’s observers and a few moments of silence before a familiar voice chimed in his ear.
“Umm…Nate? You seem to…well…are you all right? Do you need a hand?”
“…hand…” Hate repeated in a hollow but sultry tone. His body moved nimbly to unbutton the clasp on his pants and unleash the stiffness that had been trapped within. The cool air against his exposed flesh caused Nate to involuntarily shiver, the head of his cock already glistening with anticipation. Without hesitation, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and began his ministrations, the rhythmic throbbing acting as his guide.
“S…slower” came an almost imperceptible whisper from Dr. McKinsey, the embarrassed fixation clearly audible in their voice.
That solitary word became Nate’s sole fixation, his pumping becoming painfully slow as he unconsciously followed the order. After a moment, the sound of notes being scrawled could be heard before the good doctor chime in again.
“Faster?” This time more of a question than a hushed desire, yet Nate still mindlessly obliged. He returned to his original pace, his hand at this point slick with anticipation. His pulse had quickened considerably under his steady hand, a sign that his handiwork would soon breed results. But as soon as his climax was close at hand, more instruction were fed into his impressionable mind.
“Nate, I want you to stop.”
And like that, Nate pulled his hand away, a thin translucent trail following as his limb retreated. The steady throbbing of his erection told a tale to those with the cognition to recognize it: Nate had stopped at the precipice of orgasm. Despite his body’s desire for release, Nate had done as he was ordered and was simply sitting there, his eyes staring blankly into the two-way mirror before him.
“Nate”, cooed Dr. McKinsey, “I would like you to bring yourself to orgasm. Imagine all your stress, all your anxiety, being bottled up and ready to burst. Each pump shakes the bottle, drives it ever closer to its tipping point. And when that seal finally breaks…I want you to let go of all that stress. Feel it flow out of you with every muscle spasm.”
Nate had resumed his masturbatory actions after the first sentence was finished. The remainder of his instructions were soaked into his mind like an eager sponge, all his fear and stress being compressed into a tight little bottle in his head. Each stroke brought him closer to release, as each stroke invariably agitated the contents of his mental capsule. It didn’t take long for that dam to burst, as all of Nate’s worries spilled out from him in a series of sticky white ropes.
Nate came to consciousness as two scientists stood around him and fiddled with the mask on his face. The sudden arrival of new faces would have spiked his blood pressure, but much to his surprise Nate was oddly at ease. After a few moments, the scientists removed Nate’s mask and kindly escorted him from his blank cell, gingerly ushering him back towards the entrance to the facility. As he approached the exit, a similarly clothed figure confronted him, their face partially obscured but their voice a clear indicator of their identity; this was Dr. McKinsey.
“Nate, so wonderful to finally meet you” they commented cheerfully, firmly shaking his hand as the continued. “How do you feel? Any calmer?”
Nate took a moment to assess himself, and as he did, he realized that his mind felt slightly more at ease. It was as if his anxiety had been poured out of him, still present but not at its full capacity.
“Doc you’re amazing! My mind feels so much more at ease! There’s still a little anxiety in there, but what you’ve done here is nothing short of a miracle.”
Nate could see McKinsey’s smile through their eyes, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. He felt rejuvenated, although mildly concerned that he couldn’t remember a thing from the experiment. In his jubilation, he chalked it up to a mere side effect of the miracle drugs.
“Well Nate, we’re glad to hear that the experiment was a success. Why don’t we schedule another appointment and see if we can knock out the rest of those pesky thoughts with a new batch?”
In the back of his mind, Nate felt a fuzzy tingle tickle the pleasure centers of his brain at the thought of running another test. If they had helped him come this far, who knows what the next test might accomplish.
“That sounds like a marvelous idea, doc. When can we make it happen?”