The Experience Machine

She bit her lip, nodded silently, but she was already past second thoughts, already quite happy to be lying here on this makeshift bed beside Sam. She took his hand, squeezed it, whispered 'thanks' in his ear. Then, out of the blue, she kissed his cheek.

"So," Edelmann resumed, "as before, when the lights dim, transmission will commence, so get comfortable." Edelmann, for his part, had decided to observe without being connected to the transmission, for he had suddenly grown more interested in how these 're-experiencers' were going to react to these most unusual conditions. He looked at the techs, each signaled that links had been established, and the experiment was therefore ready to begin. He nodded, held up three fingers and began a silent countdown. On zero, the lights dimmed and Sam moved into a sixty-nine position beside Mariel Desjardins, his BioMedical Ethics professor.

+++++

Edelmann watched perplexed as the women students in the 're-experience' group suddenly grew very relaxed, while the men linked to Mariel Desjardins straightened out into rigid, plank-like boards. Sam's face was buried between Mariel's thighs and it was obvious he knew how to please a woman, yet Mariel was hesitant, almost afraid to act. Then Sam must have hit the right spot, for Mariel gasped, moaned, shook for an instant, then took Sam's cock all the way in her mouth.

The men hooked up to Mariel's stream were as suddenly writhing, thrashing uncontrollably on their beds as they first experienced her reactions, then her actions. More interesting still, Edelmann saw that the women hooked up to Sam had been languidly relaxed until Mariel devoured Sam's cock, then it was their turn to writhe into rigid spasms of ecstasy...yet it was the uniformity of the observed reactions that interested Edelmann most of all.

It was, he thought, almost like watching an orchestra, and Sam and Mariel were the conductors. When they waved their baton, the orchestra responded with uniformly similar reaction.

When Mariel stroked Sam's cock, the female students reacted to Sam's reactions; when Sam drove his tongue deep into Mariel's ravaged cunt, the male student's backs arched and their legs shook...

Then, in one rapid movement, Sam picked up Mariel and swung her round the bed until she was on her back, with her legs were resting on his shoulders. Next, in the same continuous motion, Sam buried his cock in Mariel's vagina and began slamming into her like a pile driver run amok. The males hooked up to Mariel began thrashing about their beds in one mass refrain, then their backs arched to impossible heights the next. Toes flexing, arms flailing, hips blurring as echoes of Mariel's impossible gyrations, the male students were soon lost inside orgasm. Mariel's orgasm.

Sam, already close to exploding before even entering Mariel, lasted less than a minute before his own orgasm took over, and the female students were simply devastated by the event, for when Sam orgasmed, so too did the female students. Vast pools of female cum accompanied Sam's orgasm and spread out on the sheets below, but then something equally impressive happened: when Mariel entered orgasm the male students began to cum as well, but without ever having touched their own penises.

It was, Edelmann thought, quite a powerful demonstration of the role 'mind' plays in achieving sexual satisfaction. Arcs of flying cum, a chorus of thrashing moans and sighs, then all was spent, drifting on unseen currents atop a sea of co-mingled bliss.

Yet only two people had in fact been intimately involved.

How strange.

He looked around the room at the assembled technicians, and noted they all looked quite stunned, but while more than a few appeared a little envious, a small group looked his way, and they did not look happy. No, they did not appear to be in the least bit happy.

+++++

Within a week, Mariel Desjardins was dismissed from her tenured professorship; Doctor Edelmann was censured, but quietly of course, for he was a famous physician and more than paid his way. A few of the students involved protested Desjardins' dismissal, and they too were summarily dismissed, with no refunds given. And there the tale might have ended, but for the actions of one student.

For you see, while one Andrew McKnight, or Andy, as he was sometimes called, was in fact one of those dismissed, he was of a somewhat more disingenuous type than either Desjardins or Edelmann gave him credit for, because he was in fact a spy. A corporate spy, and hired by a less than scrupulous multi-national corporation headquartered somewhere "over there". McKnight surreptitiously spirited away prototype copies of the recording and receiving headbands, as well as copies of the discs and manuals for the OS to get the system up and running, and in due course by manipulating his portfolio at strategic times, he became quite a wealthy man.

And of course, he kept copies of the sexual experiences recorded by Edelmann's team, but only one copy, and only for his own use. Usually.

Ah, but that's another tale for another day, isn't it?

So what, you might ask, became of Dr Mariel Desjardins?

Well, from time to time you can see her walking along the trails and paths that meander through Boston Commons, or you might just as easily catch a glimpse of her walking along The Yard to her new position at Harvard, but more often than not you'll find her walking with a man half her age, a good looking chap, too, and usually seen wearing a Boston FD Paramedic wind-breaker. He always seems to have an arm wrapped protectively around her, and she almost always has a look of total contentment on her face.

Yes, you might say they are in love.

And who am I to say they aren't?

Because love is indeed a very strange thing.

And it seems to be growing stranger every day...but that's business...isn't it?

Well, it's been a while, but I dug up this cautionary tale from the Memory Warehouse (I'd guess you could call it that), and I kind of thought it was worth passing along even though it was an old idea, so I thought I'd just go ahead and do that. There's a point buried in this little story somewhere too, and who knows, maybe you'll catch it. Took me a while.

Anyway... I knew you'd understand.

(C)2014/Adrian Leverkühn