Laws of Nature
Prologue
I have accumulated a large number of stories during my time in this region of the World. Most of them aren’t fit to be heard by the likes of you, especially this one. I’m not one for following rules, though, as I’m sure you’ll see.
This is the story of a man named Ian (last names really aren’t important) who had similar distaste for rules, even though he’d devoted his life to the discovery of rules. Full of paradox, you humans. I don’t think I’ll ever understand you people. But I digress... This is the story of a man named Ian who, at the start of my story, was a researcher at a certain University studying what turned out to be a fascinating area of Psychology...
Chapter I
Ian sat at the small table, staring straight ahead. No flicker of emotion crossed his face, even though his hand was working furiously, writing on a tablet of paper, at the top of which was written ‘Subject #19-Beta.’ Seated in a small, spare room, Ian was joined only by the furniture required for his note-taking, a small machine with needles moving up and down, recording various data, and a large one-way glass facing the room next to him.
He looked away from his subject in the next room for a moment to glance at the recording machine. He made a few notations on his tablet before returning his gaze to the person whose statistics the machine was reporting. He watched for a few more minutes before writing down “Subject response to Beta compound ideal. Recommend further participation in study. Response to Gamma compound negligible (drowsiness, confusion, slight/natural suggestibility). Above-avg. IQ of subject seems irrelevant?”
He underlined the last sentence, stared at his tablet, looked up at the subject one last time, and sighed. He went out of the room to obtain the Alpha pill and tell Eric (a.k.a. Subject #19-B) that they were done for today.
While Ian had been carefully recording his and the machine’s observations, Eric was having the time of his life. He was dimly aware that he was being observed (he knew immediately what the mirror in the room was for) and was kind of nervous when he had first entered the room, especially when the guy had attached the machine that was supposed to record his stats.
Small, white discs had been taped to his chest, forehead, the base of his neck, and the base of his back. That he had kind of expected. What unnerved him was the fact that this stiff in a white lab coat had wanted to put them in places a bit more private. The guy, who had introduced himself as Ian, had attached the discs and strapped him into a (not uncomfortable chair).
“The straps are only to keep you from disturbing the sensors. Is this comfortable?” Ian had asked. He had said this in a sort of bored, repetitive way as if it was an every-day thing to strap a half-naked man to a chair (which it was).
“Err, yeah,” Eric had replied, trying to keep cool.
“Now, I’m going to need to attach the PM and testicular sensors. One more time for the record, you’re doing this of your own free will.”
“Yeah. Um. What’s a PM?”
“Phallic manipulator,” Ian said, almost annoyed that he had to explain his terminology. He unzipped Eric’s fly and lowered his Levi shorts to his knees. He reached for the waistband of the boxers but paused to look up at Eric for the go-ahead.
Eric licked his lips and nodded nervously.
Ian pulled down the boxers, revealing Eric’s shrunken equipment. Eric felt more than a little humiliated but Ian didn’t flinch. He reached for two small sensors, much like the ones Eric had all over his upper body, and gently held Eric’s sac while he taped them onto his balls. That done, Ian picked up a small black strip of material and wrapped it around Eric’s penis. The material was about an inch wide and it just fit over Eric’s frightened dick.
Ian frowned. He needed to make sure that the PM was attached at the base of the phallus and the specimen in front of him had retracted more than was expected.
“Here, swallow this,” he said, straightening up and pulling out a small vial from his lab coat pocket. He shook out a small, blue capsule and held it in front of Eric’s mouth. Eric opened and Ian set the pill on his tongue. Swallowing, Eric hoped that the pill would relax him. He started to panic, however, when he realized that his dick was hardening in response to the pill.
“Hey, umm, Ian, I think maybe this wasn’t a good idea...”
Ian ignored him as he carefully attached the band of elastic material to the base of Eric’s hardening penis (which had grown considerably in a very short time). The subjects always tried to back out, but Ian knew that they had signed the forms giving him the right to do this. That their request for the experiment to end legally bound him to stop never bothered him. Once the PM was attached and activated, their fears were quickly soothed.
“Look, I want to go, alright? I’ve had enough.” Eric’s nervousness was quickly turning into a hybrid of panic and anger. Ian coolly flipped a switch on the machine beside Eric. Lights flicked on and the machine began to hum. In the neighboring observation room, the needles began to jump back and forth, recording Eric’s bodily state. The PM activated.
“Did you hear me Ian? I.... I... Ah... Ahhhh... Ohhh.... Mmmmm.. Fuck...”
The delicate wiring woven into the band of material began generating an electromagnetic field around the subject’s phallus, resulting in neural stimulation and a singularly unique experience for the subject.
Ian waited for Eric to stop his moaning and cursing (as they all eventually did) and placed the green capsule in Eric’s open mouth. He watched the small pill dissolve. Satisfied that the drug he had designed (the so-called Gamma compound) had been properly administered, he retired to the observation room.
When the PM had first been turned on, Eric had been totally blasted. Wave after wave of pure pleasure started accelerating toward his brain from his dick. Eric was an intelligent guy. He had a 4.0 and was on Dean’s List for History. But the second that thing had been turned on, academics went out the window. He could barely remember his name has he sat there in the thrall of the machine. He knew (somewhere in the back of his mind) that he was being watched, and he could remember somebody saying something to him. Had he responded? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t care.
Suddenly, it stopped.
Eric came back to reality with a start.
“What the fuck? Dude... AH! Fuck, it hurts!” Eric had opened his eyes and saw Ian standing over him, his finger on the switch that had deactivated the PM. His immediate thought was to make Ian turn the machine back on, and he was ready to do whatever it took to make that happen. This brutish train of thought was interrupted by what felt like two bowling balls in his nut sack.
“You’re experiencing testicular fatigue,” Ian said, wincing at Eric’s scream. “Commonly known as ‘blue-balls.’ I’m going to need you to ejaculate into this cup. It will relieve the pain.” Ian removed the PM and the sensors on Eric’s sack. He unstrapped Eric’s wrists and put the cup into Eric’s left hand as his right jumped to his dick, jerking it like there was no tomorrow. “You’ll also need to swallow this to negate the effect of the stimulant,” Ian said, holding a red capsule in front of Eric’s face and slipping it into his mouth.
Seconds after Eric swallowed the pill, spurts of semen shot from his now eight-inch rod. Ian groaned, as he watched all but two spurts miss the cup by a mile. Fortunately, there was enough in the cup for the lab tests.
Ian took the cup, attaching its lid and turning away to tend to the machine while Eric sat in the chair panting. He was so totally exhausted that he could barely see straight. He knew he should have been embarrassed to be sitting in front of a guy he barely knew with his pants around his knees, especially after shooting his load all over the wall in front of him, but he was too drained to care.
“What... I...” Eric gasped out.
“Try not to talk,” Ian said, almost sounding compassionate. “You’ve just been through a very tiring test. The PM has been stimulating you for approximately...” He consulted his watch. “Two and a half hours. The PM prevents the feeling of blue-balls from reaching your brain until it’s deactivated. It hits you kind of hard. Do you think you could stand up?”
Eric nodded, took a big swig of water from the glass that Ian offered him and slowly rose to his feet. His head swam, but he thought he was going to be okay.
Ian moved around behind him, slowly and carefully removing the electrodes at the base of Eric’s back and neck.
“You can pull up your shorts, there, Eric,” Ian said kindly.
Eric nodded in response, but paused to catch his breath before undertaking the task of bending over. Ian meanwhile reached around to detach the sensor from just over Eric’s right nipple. As he fumbled with the sensor, Eric absent-mindedly chose that time to bend over and pull up his pants. The sudden shift caused Ian to momentarily lose his balance. Panicking slightly, he held onto Ian’s chest with his left hand while grabbing at the tray on top of the machine with the other. The tray slipped and the cup of semen fell, it’s lid popping off when it hit the floor.
“Fuck,” Ian said, still fumbling with the electrode on Eric’s nipple as he looked down at the spilled specimen.
“Who?” said Eric.
“Huh?” Ian detached the electrode and paused, unsure what Eric had said.
“Err.. Sorry.. I thought you meant... Umm.. Sorry, I’m out of it,” Eric stammered.
Ian paused for a moment before detaching the sensor on Eric’s forehead. As he did so, his brain, housed behind his dark, bespectacled eyes, considered Eric’s immediate response to his curse. It had seemed almost reflexive. Ian thought back to the previous subjects. Had any of them shown any sort of quick reflexes immediately after their time with the PM? No. In fact, they had responded with characteristic lethargy. Detaching the electrode from Eric’s forehead, he stared at the sheepish looking sophomore for a moment before speaking.
“Fuck,” he said.
Eric blinked.
“Huh?”
Ian frowned. A reflex reaction would be consistent, and his instincts told him that Eric’s previous (and rather out of character) response was definitely a reflex. Therefore, his scientific mind concluded, the external stimuli must not be wholly present. Upon reflection, he reached for Eric’s nipple, fidgeting with it slightly.
“Fuck,” he said, recreating the original situation as best he could.
“Who?” Eric said immediately. Ian looked at him, fascinated. Eric’s eyes had gone out of focus and were staring into space, his arms limp at his sides.
Ian thought for a moment before saying “No one. Touch your nose.”
Eric’s right hand shot to his face, his index finger touching the tip of his nose. Ian watched, fascinated. Usually the Gamma compound dulled motor skills. He should have missed. Manipulation of Eric’s nipple seemed to negate the effects and place him in a highly suggestible state. Ian smiled. Finally, some progress.