Chapter Text
He volunteered for this. That’s what Stiles tells himself. It’s what the technician reminds him when she secures his hands and feet, making his pulse skyrocket. And now, here he is…strapped naked to a hospital gurney with his hands restrained overhead and his feet locked into stirrups stretching his legs wide open.
Stiles chuckles, a nervous laugh as he glances at the observation window above him. He nods and awkwardly winks at the scientists and doctors who are there to observe. Volunteer. It’s how the Human Advancement Corporation, HAC for short, avoids its prosecutions. ‘Total transparency,’ they say—except it’s a total lie because he does not remember the fine print mentioning any of this. And he read it all with a magnifying glass because he’s the son of a sheriff and knows better—knows not to sign his name to anything without his due diligence. Thank the gods his dad doesn’t know, or he’d strangle him before whoever is going to come through that steel door does. But he’s an adult now and makes his own decisions, despite how reckless and asinine they are.
“Breathe,” Sally, the technician, says. She’s mousey looking with a bowl-cut brown hairstyle. It’s as dull and old-fashioned as her face. She pushes the glasses up her nose and now Stiles can see her brown eyes. They’re sparkling, filled with anticipation, which doesn’t bode well for Stiles at all. Whatever is about to happen to him has the most boring individual he’s ever met thrumming with excitement.
“I’m going to give you a relaxant,” she says. “Just like we talked about. It’ll help you—”
“Let me guess,” Stiles interrupts. “Relax?”
“It will also lower your inhibitions and help you maintain an erection.”
Stiles glances at his flaccid cock. Yeah, that might be a good thing, because he’s not feeling anything in that area. He’s never been a show-er, more of a grow-er, and having a room full of squints watching him have sex won’t help him achieve the hardness they’re hoping for. Exhibitionism isn’t a fantasy kink of his. Hell, being naked in front of one partner is nerve-racking and now he’s spread out like a buffet for whoever comes through that door.
There’s a whirring sound and a scary-looking robotic arm comes out from the underside of the gurney. There’s a syringe with a long needle attached to the arm of the robot.
“Fuck!” Stiles flinches. “What is that?”
“Relax. It’s all part of the procedure. We can’t risk an IV in your hand or arm, so this will administer any of the drugs you may need during the Exploration while we’re out of the room.”
The robot moves smoothly toward his upper arm. He spies a clear drop of liquid at the tip of the needle. It sprays something on his skin, and as Sally tells him it’s antiseptic, the needle drops and pushes into his flesh. He’s never liked needles, so he looks away and then his eyes roll in his head. He’s not sure if it’s the idea of the needle or whatever is injected into his body. It’s fast-acting, making his head roll like he’s drunk.
“Oh, shit. That’s the good stuff,” he says.
Sally snickers. “I imagine so. There’s a numbing agent in there, too. Just in case.”
“In case of what?” He slurs.
“This is supposed to be pleasurable for you.”
Stiles is feeling no pain and the embarrassment of being laid open drifts away. He’s exactly where he wants to be. Or he thinks he is? Because who would want to be in a sterile room with super bright lights that hide nothing, while the smell of antiseptic assaults his nose and there's an observation room overhead filled with people who want to watch him get fucked by a bunch of women or men. He’s up for either. Always has been. If he’s lucky, maybe it’ll be a man and a woman at the same time…or maybe even more. He’s only been with one partner at a time, but the thought of a safe and sanctioned gangbang, while he’s tied up, has his cock twitching. He’s always wanted both holes filled, spit-roasted, he thinks, only he’s imagined he’d be on his hands and knees choking on a dick while someone rails him from behind. That he can get on board with. And if there’s a woman, maybe he’ll get to fuck her or suck on her tits.
“Fuck,” he moans. “What did you give me?”
“Just a little cocktail to heighten your libido.”
“Is this the new drug you're hoping to get approval for? Fuck, this will sell. You'll make a mint,” he says, smiling. The squints won’t have any trouble ‘monitoring his responses’ if he’s feeling like this and no one has even touched him. He’s primed and ready, and a quick glance at his reddened, hard cock means he’s on board with whatever is coming his way.
“I’m glad it’s working,” Sally says and then touches a few things on her tablet. “We’re going to begin soon. Do you have any questions?”
Of course, he has questions. When does he not have questions? “What’s behind that massive door?”
His head lolls to the side, focusing on the thick—what looks to be—reinforced steel? Why would they need that kind of door in a room as sterile as this? There’s nothing in here apart from the bed and the observation window. Everything was stripped from it for the experiment. HAC is a “research facility.” A multi-national genetic research facility that teeters on the edge of morality. Everyone knows about HAC and how they escape prosecution with large anonymous donations to government officials around the world to keep them out of the courts and bury any story that could tarnish their reputation. Many people have tried to bring them down and failed. Their contracts are ironclad and since their research depends on volunteers—albeit desperate volunteers—there isn’t much the authorities can do.
And Stiles desperately needs money and quickly. He knows his dad leveraged the house to help pay for his schooling. And after a few trips to the ER by both of them, they have hospital bills a civil servant’s insurance doesn’t cover. They are swimming in debt. They are going to lose the house and he can forget grad school. His father makes just enough money so Stiles doesn’t qualify for aid, but his dad’s credit rating is shot with all the debt they’re in. No bank will give Stiles a loan with his dad as a co-signer. It’s a mess that’s driving his father to drink again and Stiles can’t have that.
That’s why he’s here at HAC and in their Exploration—X Research trials. X-Corps Division. He could’ve picked something a little less invasive. There’s a tier system, each with its own timeframe and monetary reward. Exploration A, B, S and X. When he read the documentation for each of the studies, it was clear ‘A’ had the least risk and the longest timeframe but the lowest compensation. Whereas ‘X’ had the highest risk, the shortest trial length, and the greatest payout. Significantly more than the others, enough that Stiles could pay off the house, and the bills, go to the grad school of his choice and still have money to give his dad a comfortable retirement for the rest of his days. It was the only option, really. Once he was approved for all levels of Exploration, he read everything HAC presented and did his own research, which didn’t turn up much, but he was satisfied everything that would or could happen to him would be temporary and nothing would put his life in danger. Or so all the testimonials from past volunteers told him. Most of them remember leaving the trials refreshed and rejuvenated, happy they ‘volunteered.’ So, Stiles chose the X-Corps Division and was told all he had to do was take part in a new drug trial, like Viagra or something, and be observed copulating with males and/or females, and there would be no long-standing side effects. Males and females. Males and females. Those were the terms they used. Not men and women.
Oh, fuck. He is so fucked. Literally. He should’ve realized this. Why would anyone give this kind of money to someone for just having sex with men and women? He’s so stupid. But he was so desperate that he rushed into this and didn’t stop to think. He only saw the dollar signs and the reassurance that it would not harm him, and there would be no lasting side effects.
“Sally!” he yells, eyes wide, and his cock flags. “What’s behind that fucking door?”
There’s a buzzing sound, and a voice speaks throughout the room. “Dr. Weese, perhaps Subject XHM13 needs another dose of TEPh.”
“Of course.” She nods to the man in the window overhead. He looks to be in charge and Stiles hates everything about him immediately, right down to his tall, thin frame, long nose, beady eyes and his white-as-snow, thick hair. He’s a creepy motherfucker who belongs in the Village of the Damned, and if Stiles had met him while signing his contract, he would’ve torn it up and run for the hills. It’s a gut-wrenching feeling knowing he’ll be watching Stiles have sex.
There’s another whirring sound as the robot arm moves toward him.
“No. No. No!” Stiles tries to squirm, but he’s strapped down tight. “I don’t need any more of that. I need to know what’s behind that fucking door. Or I need to rescind my contract.”
“It will be fine,” Sally says. “We’re upping your dose. We calculated based on your weight, but your body is burning through it quicker than the others. Nothing to be concerned about. Your metabolism is strong. That’s a good thing.” She pats his thigh as the robot arm lowers another syringe to his arm. The needle jabs his skin and then there’s that rush to his head again. He’s floating and his cock fills with blood, hard and leaking, and he needs to touch it. Needs someone to grab hold of it and squeeze.
“Fuck, Sally, please.” He lifts his hips, angling them toward her.
“That’s better.” She smiles, then turns to the observation window, giving them a thumbs up. “Looks like we’re ready to proceed.”
“Thank you, Dr. Weese. You may vacate the room.” Sally obeys, leaving Stiles on his own with his painful hard-on in a room where he’s about to be fucked by something that’s probably not human. And what the hell is he going to do if it’s a horse or something? Fuck! What has he done?
“Subject XHM13,” the creepy man says. “Thank you for your contribution to science. You are doing the world a service. Once this is over, you won’t remember any of the finer details of this Exploration, but I assure you, what you experience in this room will be nothing but euphoria. So, with that, I ask you to relax and free your inhibitions.”
There’s the blaring of a klaxon and the lights on either side of the steel door flash. The door slowly lifts into the ceiling and a whoosh of a sound fills the room along with billowing smoke. It’s dramatic, he’ll give them that.
There's no way he can free his inhibitions. No, freaking way. But while he waits, the fast-acting drug moves through his system, making his body flush, and heat spread along his limbs like fire. His cock pulses to the beat of his heart until it feels like he’s going to explode. He's so fucking hard and horny, he doesn’t care what comes through that door if it gives him the relief he needs. Consider his inhibitions freed!
The klaxon stops and the only sounds are coming from him—his deep breaths and his whining as he tries to shift on the bed to get a look at what the hell is about to come into the room.
He glances up to the window to see the spectators pressed up against the glass. Their eyes aren’t on Stiles, though. They’re watching the dark void of the room that’s been revealed.
He whimpers, a soft little mewl as he waits in anticipation. His cock dribbles a bead of pre-come down its length. With taut nipples, and skin that’s mottled and hot, there’s nothing he can do but wait, and with a fire burning in the lower half of his belly, he needs something to happen right now.
“Hello?” Stiles isn’t sure if calling attention to himself is the way to go, but then whatever is in there is going to come for him eventually, and the sooner he gets relief for his cock, the better. But there’s nothing there. The room is silent and nothing comes out of the darkness.
“Come on,” he murmurs. “Come on.”
And then something cool and wet touches his bare foot.