A Day at the Institute

"Alright John, are you comfortable?" Claudia asked.

"Physically, or emotionally," John responded, sarcastically.

Claudia chuckled. "I was thinking physically. We fully understand that this can be difficult to adjust to at first."

"In that case, I'm comfortable," John said.

"Good. Then we're ready to get started. The study will last between 4 and 8 hours. But we're closely tracking your breathing, blood pressure, pulse, and other vitals, so if you're in distress or need to be let free, we can do so instantly. Additionally, if you say the word 'redrum,' we will pull you out and evaluate with you whether to end the study."

Stephen King fans, eh? John thought to himself.

***

The screen in front of John changed suddenly. Claudia was gone, and was replaced with images of scantily clad women in various teasing poses. Nothing explicit—much like his pre-examination appointment—but just enough to begin to arouse John's senses. The images played like a slideshow, and soon John was losing track of how long he'd been watching. At some point, soft, feminine moans began to purr into John's ears, in time with slightly more racy pictures of topless and bottomless women floating across the screen.

Although John couldn't see anything below his chest, he could feel his cock responding to the stimuli, rising slightly and filling with blood. Still, the pictures came, more and more risqué by the minute, seemingly touching on all of John's fetishes, and checking all his boxes in terms of the type of women he was seeing.

This process must have continued for 45 minutes to an hour, with John's penis now approaching full mast, before he felt the soft, grazing touch of an oiled hand on the base of his shaft. The sensation startled him at first, and his body would have bucked had it not been for the numerous straps holding him firmly in place.

The hand moved slowly, without obvious purpose, spreading the slick oil up and down the shaft of John's cock. For it's part, John's penis responded by fully lengthening and pulling up off his stomach to wave slightly in the air. Above John's head, the images on the screen had switched to explicit pictures and short clips of gorgeous women sucking, fucking, and otherwise pleasuring rock-hard cocks. While he watched the images scroll by, the disembodied hand continued to absentmindedly toy with John's member.

Minutes passed, maybe hours—John was finding it difficult to keep time in this pitch black, soundproof apparatus—and John found himself wanting, needing even, the hand to be more purposeful. The fingers lightly fluttering over his taut cock and balls was stoking his arousal, but doing little to move him closer to orgasm. It was just a tease in the truest sense of the word. But he knew he could do nothing to speed it up or change its technique.

***

Outside of the black box, Jenna's delicate fingers continued their work on John's excited penis. She, Claudia, and the other technician kept their eyes trained on a set of monitors showing measurements gleaned from the electrodes placed all over John's body. The data would be useful for determining the success of the study, but was also useful for telling just how close John was to orgasm.

"He's showing signs of arousal, but still far from ejaculation," Claudia observed. "He's a promising subject, though, given the early readings. I think it's time to move into the next phase."

Jenna nodded, moving her head from the monitors to evaluate John's hardness. Without withdrawing her hand, she slowly began to morph her touches from the light, tickling sensations, to firmer movements. And instead of fluttering her touches all over, she began to make more deliberate up and down movements over John's cock. Before, long, her hand had enclosed John's shaft and was making long, slow strokes from the base to the tip. John couldn't move an inch, but the contraction of his hip muscles—an attempted thrust—told Jenna all she needed to know about whether the technique was working.

"Good, Jenna," Claudia said, looking at the screens. "This is definitely moving him toward orgasm. Keep going just like that. Not too fast."

The build-up took about 10 minutes, Jenna's slow up-and-down speed never wavering. With a second technician, she didn't even need to slow her strokes to add more oil. Whenever the need arose, the tech would wait for Jenna's hand to reach the base of John's shaft before squeezing some additional oil over the top half of his cock.

Claudia studies the monitors intently. "Okay, we're getting close. Jenna, on my count. 3, 2, 1, release."

As soon as Claudia said the word "release," Jenna let her hand slip from John's cock. With no contact, it continued to throb in the air, rising and falling with the contraction of John's pelvic muscles.

"Perfect for a first round," Claudia smiled. "I think we're really going to see some progress here in rebuilding the arousal cortex connection."

As the study protocol called for, the team waited until John's readings showed that he had backed down from the edge of orgasm. And then Jenna began the slow, torturous stroking again.

***

John found himself once again climbing the mountain toward orgasm. The stroking was almost too much to bear in how slow it was building, however. He found it utterly torturous that he couldn't do anything to change the pace of the strokes. His hips were locked in place and no amount of effort would allow him to thrust against the hand that continued to play softly up and down his shaft.

Still, that didn't stop him from getting closer and closer. Meanwhile, the images on the screen continued to flash. The women now seemed deliberately to be teasing the cocks on screen, their faces smirking knowingly at John, trapped as he was in this cycle of arousal. John's breathing quickened as he felt an orgasm rising from deep inside his core. Just a couple more strokes, and he'd be blasted into ecstasy.

And then the hand was gone. The muscles in John's neck tensed and released as his body instinctively tried to curl up. A deep groan escaped his throat, and he could almost feel the air currents from the exam room wafting over his tortured cock. He needed another touch, any touch, on his desperate organ. But it wouldn't come. The minutes ticked by as the research team waited for John's impending orgasm to recede. When it finally did, Jenna started again.

John lost count of the number of cycles of edging they put him through. Each one somehow seemed to get him just a little closer than the last, and each withdrawal of stimulation added to his mounting desperation. As the hand slipped off the tip of his cock for what felt like the hundredth time, John shouted into the void.

"Please, please!! I can't take anymore."

Claudia's soothing voice responded. "You're doing well, John. Really well. We're getting toward the end. I just need you to hang on a little longer."

It was the first time John had heard a human voice in however many hours he had been trapped in this contraption. He responded immediately, hoping for mercy.

"I need to cum so bad. Please!"

"No John, not yet," Claudia responded.

Jenna's hand started again, sliding softly up and down John's penis. They were about six hours in, and while Jenna's face conveyed only professionalism, she couldn't help but enjoy this part of the process. She could feel every vein and undulation in John's cock, and on each stroke could let her fingers follow the contours of each one. The Institute had experimented with various methods of mechanical stimulation for use in their studies, but none had been able to replicate the effect of a well-practiced hand.

"And, stop," Claudia indicated. Jenna complied immediately, and John's cock heaved in the air. The cycles were coming in shorter and shorter now, and the research team could tell they were nearing the limits of what John's body could take.

"Let's try to make it through five more cycles," Claudia indicated, looking down at a notepad she was using the track their progress. "You can start again, Jenna."

John felt as though he was losing his mind. The entirety of his nerve endings seemed bunched into his hard cock, and his whole body seemed to be on fire. His muscles tensed again, involuntarily, in preparation for a massive orgasm. And again, the slippery hand pulled away just in time.

"UNNNGGHH!!" John screamed, to no one in particular. He could feel his cock throbbing and quaking, probing the air for anything that might be close enough to touch it. He'd given up trying to reason, or even beg, Claudia. No matter what he said, she always responded with the same soothing yet firm words of denial.

Jenna started in again, John's cock head seemed to flare and pulse with each stroke. The cycles came in shorter bursts. She stopped again.

"Ahhhhh, let me cum!" John yelled. Jenna stroked him lightly, again right to the precipice. She continued like this, now removing her hand for only a few seconds before lightly applying it again. To John, the feeling was like being constantly on edge, pulled rapidly to the brink of orgasm and back again. And again, and again.

Finally, the time had come. Jenna released John's penis from her grip once more, this time pausing for a couple of minutes to give him time to truly calm down. Subjects typically enjoyed the release more with a slightly longer "runway" to orgasm, and there was no reason at this point to deprive John of that ecstasy. They had all the data they needed.

The team could tell from John's vitals that he had retreated sufficiently from the edge of orgasm. But they could not have known that from his cock, which was taut and had not softened in the least. The skin had taken on a reddish, almost angry hue, both from the extended stroking and from the constant arousal. Claudia nodded silently to Jenna.

Jenna applied her hand for a final time, stroking slowly and deliberately from base to tip, adding a slight flick of her wrist each time her slick palm caught the ridge of the head. John's vital signs reversed course, and he was now hurtling toward orgasm. He had no way of knowing that the torture was finally over, but it was. He approached the edge and burst through it, his cock exploding and convulsing in time with Jenna's deft strokes. An animal groan escaped his throat and filled the exam room through the speakers.

***

John awoke in a smaller exam room, atop one of the comfortable beds he'd been on during his first visit to the Institute. After he had a couple moments to get his bearings, he heard a soft knock on the door, followed by Claudia striding gently through it.

"Well, I hope you somewhat enjoyed that?" Claudia asked.

John could do nothing but blush hard.

"I know it's hard to see the science in that from your perspective," Claudia continued, "but I assure you our research really is making great strides in non-chemical treatment of sexual disorders. And the data we gathered from you will play a part in that.

"I just wanted to swing by to make sure you're doing okay. Assuming you are, you're welcome to get dressed and head out anytime you feel comfortable. Just don't forget to grab your check for the day on the way out." And with a gesture toward the pile of John's clothes sitting on the chair in the corner, Claudia was gone.

John gathered his thoughts, reflecting on what he remembered of the nearly day-long ordeal. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, thinking that no one would believe him if they told him. He put on his clothes, and left through the door of the exam room.

He left through the door of the exam room and headed back to the front desk. On his way, he couldn't help catch Jenna's eye sitting at one of the cubicles and tapping away at a laptop. She gave him a friendly smile. And if he didn't know better, he would have thought that, just as he rounded the corner, she flashed him a coy wink.