PZA Boy Stories

Tadzio

Timothy's Contribution to Medical Science

Summary

For his biology project Tim volunteers in an important biological experiment.
Publ. 1996 (ASSG); this site Mar 2011
Finished 11,500 words (23 pages)

Characters

Timothy (14yo)

Category & Story codes

Other story
t-machine – cons mast
(Explanation)

Disclaimer

The following story is about a sexually-explicit experience involving an underage boy. It is adult material and is not appropriate for minors or those who are uninterested in or offended by gay-oriented erotica.

This story may not be read by or shown to anyone under the age of eighteen or otherwise used or possessed in violation of the laws or regulations of any controlling jurisdiction.

This story is fantasy; no part of it is based upon any real event or situation. Any resemblance between any of the characters, institutions, locales or machines and any real person, institution, locale or machine is unintended and purely coincidental.

Author's note

Permission is granted by the author to republish this story in any format so long as all of the following conditions are met: (1) republication is not done for any direct commercial purpose (indirect commercial gain is fine; thus, republication on a commercial electronic bulletin board or web page is permitted); (2) authorship is not credited to or claimed by any person other than the author; and (3) the story is republished intact and without alteration.

 

Chapter 1

To be perfectly blunt, it could not truthfully be said that Timothy Cooper had been endowed with extraordinary intellectual capabilities. Indeed, schoolwork came hard for the fourteen-year-old boy, and he frequently moved through his classes in a bit of a fog over concepts and theories which his classmates were able to absorb with much greater facility.

It was not in Tim's nature, however, to feel bitter or discouraged about his less than stellar academic performance. He always tried his very best, and if he were sometimes not equal to the assigned task, he nonetheless accepted his fate with equanimity and grace. For Tim, the heights of mental reasoning were simply a sort of magic with which he had not been endowed; he had, after all, never known otherwise. Those boys who were especially clever and quick were regarded by Tim with awe and admiration, rather than with jealously and spite.

This kindly disposition spilled over into all aspects of Tim's life and frequently compensated for his less-than-heroic intellectual skills. Tim firmly believed, both by upbringing and experience, that the world was a benevolent place in which he would be looked after and cared for by its selfless inhabitants. Tim could not imagine doing a hurtful thing to anyone, and he would never have believed that anyone could ever do anything hurtful to him.

The boy's brief number of years on the earth had largely validated his happy outlook. Deeply loved by a generous and caring father, Tim had been brought up in an atmosphere of privilege and wealth. All of his needs had been attended to. The only mar upon Tim's early life had been the untimely death of his mother. This had occurred, however, while Tim was still an infant, and the pain of his mother's absence was largely assuaged by the fact that Tim could not, despite his best efforts, remember anything but the smallest details about her.

Tim's father was a senior executive with a large corporation who had grown rich with the exercise of stock options and the nurturing of shrewd investments. As his only child approached puberty, he realized that nannies and nurses could not adequately take the place of his dead wife or make up for his frequent absences on business matters.

So, shortly after he turned twelve, Tim was sent to boarding school. The admissions committee of the prestigious Milford Academy originally balked at Tim's application on the grounds that his past academic performance simply didn't measure up. The endowment of the Cooper Scholarship for disadvantaged students convinced them, however, that Tim might have just the qualities they were looking for.

Tim remembered the weekend two years ago when he had said good-bye to his father on the steps of his dormitory hall. Tim was dressed in a warm loden coat to protect against the chill of an early New England Fall. The brown leaves had already begun to drop and swirl from the overhanging branches of the spindly trees, collecting in crackling piles along the walkways and in the grass. Tim also remembered the bittersweet emotions that had churned through him; sadness, fear and excitement all mixed within him breathlessly as he wondered what this new chapter of his life would hold.

He needn't have worried. Tim's eternally sunny and optimistic disposition beguiled everyone who came in contact with him. "He's a very sweet child, isn't he?" was the refrain heard from more than one of his teachers. Many of them could not resist giving him the benefit of the doubt or even an extra point or two when it came to marking grades. His classmates responded with less alacrity, but Tim's friendly openness eventually convinced them that he was Okay.

It was during his second year at Milford that Tim hit puberty with full force. And it was also then that he blossomed forth into an extraordinarily beautiful boy. It was as if a kindly and beneficent Nature had decided to compensate Tim for his lack of intellectual prowess by bestowing upon him all of the earthly radiance that one person could ever know.

Tim grew. He gained five inches [12½ cm] in height during a single year. His torso and legs lengthened and firmed. All of the baby fat remaining from his early years vanished, and Tim's slender body tightened. His muscles developed tone and definition, becoming sleek and hardened. Ridges appeared along Tim's stomach. His shoulders widened.

A purist might have objected to Tim's hands and feet. They were large. Tim's fingers were particularly long, tapered and graceful. One of Tim's hands could easily obscure his face as he flicked back an errant strand of hair, and his feet were easily larger than those of most of his classmates. The overall effect, however, was to add to the boy's coltish appearance rather than to make him appear ungainly. All in all, every part of Tim's slim body exuded grace and suppleness and youthful vigor.

It was the boy's face that underwent the most dramatic transformation. Once his hormones had settled down, Tim was left with a heart-shaped face and high cheekbones. His generous mouth contained perfectly even and brilliantly white teeth. His lips were full and sensuous. His dark brown eyes were large and liquid. His nose was small and slightly upturned. When he laughed (which was often), the radiance of his smile could fill an entire room.

Tim's dark brown hair was thick and glossy. He wore it long and parted in the middle. His skin was perfect; an unblemished expanse, smooth and tanned. Tim moved with the natural grace of a dancer. His entire appearance expressed beauty without femininity; grace without coyness; sex with only a touch of wantonness. It is no wonder that he tore the hearts out of many of his teachers, both female and male.

Perhaps because he had been a bit late into puberty, Tim's sex organs had become particularly well-developed. He knew. Tim had surreptitiously checked out the other boys in the showers after sports, and he felt confident that he had nothing to worry about when it came to the size of his genitals. Tim's uncircumcised penis was a good six inches [15 cm] long. Its dusky skin was smooth and unbroken except for the tracing of a single large vein down the middle of its upper surface. Tim's foreskin covered almost all of the head of his penis, leaving only the tip exposed. When retracted, it revealed a dark purple head, large and bulbous, with a prominent ridge separating the head from the shaft.

Seen in profile, Tim's sex organs stood out clearly from his lean body with his penis curved gently over his egg-shaped testicles. An observer would also note that Tim's scrotum was hairless and that he had only a small tuft of light-brown hair surmounting his impressive organ.

An observer would also note that Tim is in a hurry at the moment. His next class is biology, and Tim does not want to be late. He had embarrassed himself yesterday by confusing miosis with necrosis, and he does not want to give Mr. Channing any reason to notice him today.

Tim got to his class on time and slipped into his seat. He spent the next hour puzzling along with Mr. Channing as he explained the mysteries of cellular division. It was all so confusing, Tim thought. He would have to study very hard before the next big examination.

"Remember class," Mr. Channing announced as the hour was nearly up, "Your independent projects will be due in two weeks. I have received topics from everyone except three of you."

Tim heard his name called.

"Those of you who don't have topics yet had better get with me soon," Mr. Channing said. "Time is running out."

As Tim left the classroom, he felt a minor rush of panic. Gosh, he thought. What can I do for my biology project? How can I make time for that and everything else?

As he mulled over his dilemma, Tim stood before the student bulletin board in the hallway and absently began to read some of the notices. There was one notice printed on pale red paper that had been obscured by other postings. Tim pushed the other slips of paper away, and this is what he read:

volunteer subject wanted for important biological experiment
must be between the ages of 12 and 16 and in good health
one afternoon required compensation provided
if interested, telephone dr. rudolph matthewson 555-1616

'This is it!' Tim thought. He could participate in this experiment and write a report about it for his biology project. Not only would it take only an afternoon, but he would also get paid! The notice did say that it was a 'biological' experiment, so Mr. Channing would be sure to approve.

But Mr. Channing was a bit more skeptical. "I don't know, Tim," he said as the boy stood before him a few minutes later, gripping the notice he had torn from the bulletin board. Mr. Channing leaned back in his office chair and considered the hopeful expression on Tim's face. 'God, this boy is cute,' he thought. He had thought so for some time.

"Usually, students design and participate in their own projects as the experimenter rather than the experimentee," he said. "I don't know if I can approve this."

"Please, Mr. Channing," Tim begged. "I promise I'll do a really good job. I know I'll learn a lot. It will be a chance for me to watch a real scientist at work."

"Well 3;" Mr. Channing hesitated. Tim looked so fetching and winsome as he leaned over his desk. His heart went out to the boy. After all, how much could he really expect from Tim? And he did seem to be truly excited about participating in this experiment.

"All right, Tim," Mr. Channing said at last. "But I'm expecting a really great report from you."

"You'll get it, Mr. Channing," Tim whooped. "I promise!" Tim's face lit up with a gigantic smile, and Mr. Channing, once again, knew that he had been outmaneuvered by the boy's enormous physical beauty and the beguiling appeal of his radiant personality.

Tim ran down the hall to a phone booth and hurriedly dialed the number that had been printed on the notice. A man's voice answered at the other end.

"I'm calling about the biology experiment," Tim said into the phone. "I'd like to participate if I can."

The voice on the other end of the line was gruff and was tinged with a slight accent. "How old are you?," the voice demanded.

"Fourteen," Tim replied.

"Well, I have an opening this Friday afternoon at three o'clock. Can you make it then?"

Tim considered. He had only one class on Friday afternoon, but it was art. He could easily skip it and make it up some other time. "I'll be there," Tim said.

The man on the telephone gave him an address, and Tim started to hang up.

"One more thing," the man quickly said. "It is very important for the experiment that you not masturbate for three days before Friday. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Tim said slowly. He hung up the phone, and his face took on a puzzled expression. Not masturbate! It seemed like a strange requirement. Tim now wished that he had asked what the experiment was about and what he was expected to do. The man did say that it was important for the experiment, however, and he was a scientist. He must know what was best, and if Tim was going to get a passing grade in biology, he had better follow the man's instructions. The only thing Tim knew for sure was that the three days before Friday would be very hard.

Chapter 2

In his office across town, Dr. Rudolph Matthewson hung up the phone and stubbed out his cigarette. Another prospective applicant! Dr. Matthewson had already interviewed twenty boys, and all of them had turned him down when they were told what the experiment consisted of. 'Ignorant Puritans!' he thought to himself.

He would have to try a new approach, he thought. Deception in the name of science could be justified. Of course, it wouldn't hurt if he could find a boy who was both beautiful and sufficiently dull that he would not appreciate the true nature of his work. The only recourse was to keep looking. Matthewson sighed and ran a large hand through his grey hair.

Rudolph Matthewson was one of the world's leading experts in the field of biotechnology, although he had recently disappeared from the academic journals.

He had received his early training in Germany and later obtained his medical degree in the United States. During the early years of his career, he had worked as an orthopedic surgeon, becoming increasingly interested in the use of artificial replacements for various body parts. Matthewson had been one of the pioneers in what was then the new field of arthroscopic surgery, and he had published widely on new surgical methods and techniques. The most common approach to hip replacement surgery was still called the 'Matthewson incision' in his honor.

Matthewson had become so consumed by his interest in biotechnology that he returned to school after a number of years and completed a second doctoral program in mechanical engineering. Armed with this additional knowledge, he had gone on to invent new surgical tools and implants. His training as both a surgeon and an engineer meant that he could build almost any medical device single-handedly.

Dr. Matthewson's growing reputation in the field also led to his appointment as a professor at a major national medical school in New England. For many years, he was a powerhouse among the faculty, frequently mentioned as an obvious candidate for the deanship. He continued to publish and invent, growing richer every year from royalties and consulting fees.

But approximately three years ago, Rudolph Matthewson began to go off the track. Arrogant to begin with, he started to treat his students and other members of the faculty with open contempt. He began missing classes. He became disruptive at faculty meetings.

The final straw came with the rejection of his research proposal to the National Institute of Medicine. Twice married and twice divorced, for all his life Matthewson had rigorously suppressed any manifestation of his strong sexual interest in teenage boys. He could not even acknowledge it to himself.

Matthewson's sexual urges had finally bubbled to the surface in the disguised form of his proposed research project. It was entitled, A Comparative Study of Ejaculate Volume in the Adolescent Male. The reviewers at the National Institute of Medicine were shocked. They knew, of course, of Matthewson's reputation as a brilliant scientist, and they also knew that his proposed research would be useless as a scientific matter and probably illegal as well.

They turned him down flat. The most senior reviewer placed a discreet telephone call to the Dean of Matthewson's medical school to express his concern. The Dean, in turn, called Matthewson into his office.

The meeting did not go well. Matthewson immediately took offense, and voices were raised. At the end of an hour, Matthewson had tendered his resignation and stormed out of the office. The Dean began to prepare a brief memorandum to the faculty announcing Matthewson's departure and expressing the school's deep gratitude for his many years of dedicated service. Privately, the Dean was greatly relieved.

Rudolph Matthewson packed up and left. He took with him not only his files and medical books but also his dream of the research study which the National Institute of Medicine had so summarily rejected. Matthewson had convinced himself that it was the most important research he would ever do. He would not let some petty bureaucrats or fossilized academics stand in his way. If need be, he would fund the project himself. He had more than enough money to do so.

If pressed, it is doubtful whether Matthewson could actually have explained what he expected his research to contribute to scientific understanding. In his increasingly unhinged state, it had simply become a mania for him, jumbled together with his long repressed sexual desires. All Matthewson knew was that the research had to be done and that he was the only person who could do it.

He relocated to a different town and set up a small laboratory in a secluded residential neighborhood. There, for the next nine months he worked and tinkered on The Machine. After many modifications, it was finally done. It sat in a room of its own, polished and gleaming, awaiting its first subject.

The Machine's first subject would be Tim.

Friday arrived. Tim awoke in his dorm room and immediately noticed that he had a raging hard on. Darn it, he thought. The last few days had been torture for Tim. It seemed that the slightest provocation would cause his member to erect. It throbbed and pulsed beneath the covers now, straining for release. Tim ached to take hold of his cock and stroke it, but he feared that even the slightest touch might cause him to ejaculate all over his stomach, and that would spoil everything.

Just a few more hours, Tim thought to himself. He could run home after the experiment was finished and then beat off in the privacy of his room. Tim had never felt so sexually charged before. His balls ached for release; his penis strained. He knew that he must have built up an enormous backlog of cum.

Tim slipped out of his bed and quickly removed his pajamas. He noticed himself standing sideways in the full-length mirror on his closet door. His prick, still hard, curved upwards from his belly, tight and throbbing, reaching almost to his belly button. The foreskin of his penis had slipped back, exposing the dark purple skin of the head. The tiny slit at the tip gaped open as if pleading for relief. His balls were drawn tightly up against his body.

It took all the discipline that Timmy had not to grab hold of his member and begin to jerk furiously. Instead, he stooped to pull on a pair of bikini underpants (his cock had to pushed in sideways), and then his tight blue jeans (this may be a mistake, he thought) and a clean t-shirt. A pair of white socks and tennis shoes completed his outfit for the day, and Timmy headed off to class.

At two-thirty that afternoon, Timmy began his trek across town for his meeting with Rudolph Matthewson. The day was unseasonably warm, and Tim decided that he could forego a jacket. He caught the crosstown bus which deposited him only a few blocks from his destination. Consulting the little scrap of paper on which he had written the address, Timmy walked along the quiet suburban sidewalks until he reached his destination.

It was a small house, clean and orderly. Timmy walked up the path and knocked on the door. A large, grey-haired man answered.

"Are you here for an appointment?" the man asked.

"Yes," Timmy replied shyly. "I'm Tim Cooper."

"How do you do? My name is Dr. Rudolph Matthewson."

Matthewson ushered Timmy inside and closed the door. They were both immediately impressed with each other, although for very different reasons.

On Timmy's part, Dr. Matthewson appeared to be one of the most commanding figures he had ever met. Matthewson was a large man, standing well over six feet [1.80 m], and his long, white doctor's coat, his shock of grey hair and his authoritative demeanor created an impression of power and control. Tim decided that this man must be very wise. If he told Timmy something, it most certainly would be true. He was old, and he was a doctor. He must know more about biology than Tim could ever hope to learn. Tim began to feel honored just to be in Matthewson's presence, and he fervently hoped that he would be chosen for the experiment and not make any mistakes.

For Matthewson, Timmy was simply the most beautiful boy he had ever seen. He quickly took in the boy's appearance; his soft, flowing hair; the smooth, tanned skin of his arms; the broad planes of his chest tapering down into a narrow waist; and his large, upturned eyes. He also noticed the prominence of Timmy's ass and a very large and intriguing bulge in the crotch area of the boy's faded jeans.

Matthewson was smitten. He smiled benevolently down at the boy. Timmy smiled back, convinced more than ever that he was in the presence of a Great and Kindly Man. Someone he could trust.

"Well, shall we begin?" Matthewson said.

For the next half hour, Matthewson took Timmy's medical history which he recorded on a chart, and he made various standard measurements which he recited aloud as he wrote them down. "Let's see," he would say in his slight accent. "Height: five feet, six inches [1.68 m]. Weight: 130 pounds [59 kg]. Waist: twenty-eight inches [72 cm]. Chest: thirty-five inches [89 cm]." And on it went.

Once he had completed his measurements, Dr. Matthewson sat Timmy down and explained to him what the experiment was all about. He did not, of course, tell Timmy the truth. Instead, Matthewson told Timmy the story which he had very carefully concocted in order to win the agreement of his 'volunteers'. Matthewson claimed that he was researching the regeneration of nerve tissue. Towards that end, he had built a machine which, he said, would measure the galvanic response of a subject's skin more accurately than had ever been done before. It was hoped, Matthewson stated, that by studying the conductivity of skin tissue that the knowledge acquired would lead to a better understanding of nerve tissue impulses and, perhaps some day, to a method for encouraging the successful regeneration of damaged nerves.

"Think of it, Tim," Matthewson said. "This research might one day enable us to help all those people with spinal cord injuries. People who might never walk or even move could regain the full use of their limbs and return to a normal and productive life."

Timmy was overwhelmed. While he did not understand everything that Dr. Matthewson had said, he did comprehend that this research was Important. And Dr. Matthewson wanted him to participate! Timmy could hardly believe his good fortune. If he could help those poor paralyzed people, he had to do it. He couldn't say no. Plus it would make a dynamite paper for Mr. Channing!

Timmy quickly agreed. Matthewson smiled with pleasure and anticipation at the boy's eager acceptance.

"Very good," he said. "Now, if you can just sign this standard Consent and Release form, we can get to the actual experiment."

Timmy took the document from Matthewson's hands. It was four pages of printed type, and it seemed very detailed and complicated. It basically released Matthewson from any liability for anything. Rather than puzzle through the complex legal language, Timmy decided he would simply sign the paper and place his trust in Dr. Matthewson. He took the pen proffered by Matthewson and signed his name at the bottom of the last page.

"Good," Matthewson said. "Now, let's go in and meet The Machine."

Chapter 3

The Machine sat on the linoleum floor in the center of an adjacent room. The room was very bright. Tim noticed that The Machine looked something like a bulky lounge chair sunk into a shallow metal box. There were wires and tubes which led from various parts of The Machine to other devices on the counter tops of the cabinets which lined most of the room's perimeter. Above the machine was some type of scanning device on a movable arm. It was clear that The Machine was constructed so that a person could fit inside, reclining on the chair-like structure which took up most of its interior.

The strangest part of The Machine was the two flat, L-shaped projections which protruded from either side and which extended along The Machine's entire length. These were hinged where they joined the metal box, and it was obvious that they could be closed up over the top of The Machine, sealing the person inside with only their head protruding. It reminded Tim of the old-fashioned steam cabinets that he had sometimes seen in old movies and cartoons. Each of these 'doors' was made of clear plastic, however, so that once they were closed, a person could still look in and see the body of whomever was locked inside.

Tim began to feel afraid.

"This isn't going to hurt, is it?," he asked.

"No, no, not at all," Matthewson replied. "I know it looks intimidating, but I guarantee that you will not feel any pain or discomfort at all. Trust me."

Tim felt reassured. He also felt a little ashamed of himself for being such a coward. This was an Important Experiment, after all, and Dr. Matthewson wouldn't want to work with such a baby. Timmy steeled his resolve, but he still wasn't quite prepared for what came next.

Matthewson adopted his most matter-of-fact tone as he studied the writing on his clipboard: "Now, if you'll just slip out of your clothes, we can begin."

This was something Timmy had not bargained for and he hesitated. Dr. Matthewson sensed his discomfort and said in a slightly sterner voice, "Look, Tim. It is impossible to measure the conductivity of your skin when it is obscured by clothing. I thought you realized that. I need to have an unobstructed field in order for The Machine to work. I'm a doctor; you have no reason to feel embarrassed. I've seen hundreds of naked boys."

Tim knew that Dr. Matthewson was right, but it still didn't relieve his discomfort. He kicked off his tennis shoes and pulled off his socks and began to pull his t-shirt out of his jeans. When it was free, Tim crossed his arms in front of him and gripped the hem of his t-shirt. He took one big breath and then began to raise his t-shirt over his head.

Matthewson looked up from his clipboard. The boy's body was truly magnificent, he thought. With Tim's vision temporarily obscured by the fabric of his shirt, Matthewson was able to study the boy's upper body closely. Tim's chest was divided into broad, flat planes of perfectly smooth skin with a slight indentation running down the center. His collarbone was clearly visible. Tim's nipples were large and brown. At the center of each nipple, a little nub stood up, craning above the surface of Timmy's chest.

Timmy's abdomen was engraved with gentle ridges that progressed down his flat stomach. Just above the beltline of Timmy's jeans, his prominent navel quivered slightly as he pulled his t-shirt higher. Timmy's armpits came into view, and Matthewson noted that he had only a sparse growth of dark brown hair.

Timmy pulled his t-shirt up and off. He cast it onto a nearby chair and his hand moved to the button of his pants. With a small sigh, Timmy unbuttoned his jeans. He slowly drew the zipper down and parted the two triangles of fabric. He pushed his blue jeans down to his ankles and stepped out of them. Timmy was now dressed in only his bikini underpants.

Buying time, the boy carefully folded his jeans and finally draped them over the chair where his t-shirt had been placed. He looked at Matthewson.

"Are you sure you can't do the experiment in just my underpants?," he asked. Tim's eyes were pleading.

"Sorry." Dr. Matthewson affected a light and reassuring tone. "Let's go, Tim."

Resigned to the inevitable and having already gone this far, Timmy pressed his lips together tightly, and in one swift move, he pulled his underpants down. As he raised his leg to step out of them, his balls swung gently in the cool air of the laboratory.

Timmy was now naked. He could feel the hardness of the linoleum floor beneath his feet. He could feel strands of his pubic hair moving in the circulating air. This was the first time in his life that Tim had ever been naked in front of a fully clothed adult, and he blushed deeply. Timmy shyly looked down at the floor.

Matthewson was very excited, although he was careful to maintain an outward appearance of calmness and professionalism. While Timmy's gaze was averted, Matthewson permitted himself a careful and searching appraisal of the boy's body.

Timmy had very long and slender legs. They were nearly hairless except for a smattering of light brown hair on the shins. His buttocks were firm and rounded. His entire body was nicely and evenly tanned except for the skin on his ass and the front of his stomach where the creamy skin conformed to the outline of his bikini underpants. The boy's muscles were toned and taut. He appeared to have no hair at all on his torso except for the small, soft puff of tangled pubic hair above his genitals.

And Timmy's genitals were very impressive. His long, soft cock hung down in a gentle curve over his large, protruding balls. Matthewson fought the desire to reach out and take it in his hand.

Timmy was also thinking about his cock. As embarrassed as he felt at the moment, he was thankful that he had not gotten an erection. What would Dr. Matthewson have thought? The strangeness of his surroundings, however, helped to keep Tim's penis flaccid.

Matthewson broke their respective reveries: "Here, let me help you in. Be careful of the wires." He extended a hand to Timmy and steadied the boy as Tim stepped gingerly over the plastic container doors and into The Machine. Matthewson could feel the movement of the boy's shoulder blade underneath his hand and see the workings of the muscles in Tim's back and buttocks as he moved. He could also smell the intoxicating warmth of the boy's body; a combination of sweat, fresh laundry and, perhaps, of fear.

Once inside, Tim felt much better. He reclined in the chair-like contraption and was surprised to find that it was extremely comfortable. He wasn't sure what it was made of, however; it seemed to be some sort of cross between leather and velvet. It felt nice against his bare skin. Tim sank deeper into the chair and began to relax a little.

Dr. Matthewson was speaking. "As I go through the preparations, I will explain to you exactly what I am doing. If you have any questions along the way, please don't hesitate to ask."

Matthewson moved to the side of the machine and buckled Tim's left wrist to The Machine's armrest. "These are only measurement cuffs," he explained. "They will record the slight electrical impulses that will be traveling over your skin. Obviously, the electricity will be so slight that you won't even notice it."

This made sense to Tim, although he realized that he could no longer free his arm from The Machine. Dr. Matthewson moved around The Machine and attached Tim's other wrist to the opposite armrest.

"Spread your legs," Matthewson commanded. Tim complied.

Dr. Matthewson reached deeper into The Machine and attached cuffs to each of Tim's ankles. The boy was now securely fastened to The Machine. He couldn't get up if he wanted to.

"During the experiment, I'll be taking readings of how your body is functioning. These will include both an electroencephalogram and an electrocardiogram," Dr. Matthewson said. Timmy had heard both of those names, and he was reassured by their familiarity.

"I'll need to attach three electrodes to your scalp, Tim. This will not hurt a bit." Matthewson moved the scanning device that was poised above The Machine until it was centered over Timmy's face. "This is a fluoroscope with some minor modifications," he explained. "It will permit me to center the electrodes exactly by viewing their placement on the television screen behind you."

Timmy heard the television click on, but he could not see the screen from his position. Matthewson removed the paper backing from a small electrode and placed it on the bare skin behind Timmy's left ear. Timmy could feel the sticky glue as the electrode adhered to his skin. Matthewson attached an identical electrode behind Timmy's right ear.

"I'm afraid this final electrode will require me to remove a small amount of hair from the back of your scalp in order to get a decent connection," Dr. Matthewson said. "I'm sorry about that, Tim, but it shouldn't be noticeable."

Timmy raised his head and could hear the buzz of a small electric razor click on. He then felt some pressure as Dr. Matthewson shaved off a tiny portion of hair at the back of his head. Once again, he felt the sticky glue as Dr. Matthewson applied the final electrode.

Matthewson spent quite awhile adjusting the electrodes in various small ways, all the time looking into the screen of the television set. Tim began to feel bored. Finally, when Matthewson was satisfied, he rubbed his hands together and exclaimed, "Perfect. That should work perfectly."

Tim thought that the electrodes were for measuring his brain waves in some fashion, and Matthewson was entirely content to let him think so. In reality, however, Matthewson's plans were much different and much more sinister.

Borrowing from the micro-laser technology in use with some forms of cardiac catheterization, Matthewson had devised a means of sending tiny, low-powered laser beams through the bone of the human skull and into the brain. The fluoroscope picked up these tiny laser beams clearly, and through a process of triangulation, Matthewson was able to center the beams precisely on any area of the brain he wished. The lasers did no damage to brain tissue, and they could not even be felt by the patient (or by the experimental subject).

The laser beams were useful for placement purposes only. They could pinpoint an exact area of the human brain for surgery or, in this instance, for the flow of an electric current. After much adjustment, the three electrodes on Timmy's scalp were now aimed precisely at that minute area of the hippocampus which Matthewson knew was the seat of human sexual gratification.

Having completed his work on Timmy's scalp, Dr. Matthewson gathered together the wires that ran from the electrodes and connected them to a device on a nearby counter top. He returned with what looked like two larger electrodes in his hands, but with small suction cups on the ends and long tubes instead of wires.

"These are for the EKG," Matthewson said. He methodically attached a suction cup over each one of Timmy's nipples. The boy thought that his nipples were a pretty strange place to put these devices, but he figured that Dr. Matthewson knew best, and he was determined not to appear frightened or ignorant.

"Now, Tim," Dr. Matthewson began. "This is the only part of the experiment that may cause you some slight discomfort. I need to run a catheter, but it will only take a moment and it shouldn't be very bad."

Tim nodded his head, although he did not completely understand what Dr. Matthewson had in mind. The doctor was pulling on a pair of latex gloves. He had a thin tube in his hand as he approached The Machine and readjusted the fluoroscope until it was centered just above Timmy's groin.

Matthewson casually took Timmy's penis in his hand.

Timmy started. "You're going to put it there?," he cried.

"Don't worry, Tim." Matthewson tried to sound as calm and reassuring as possible. "It's done all the time. I simply need to take a measurement of the acidity of the urine in your bladder. All you will feel is just a little bit of pressure. It will all be over in a matter of seconds."

Timmy wasn't sure he wanted this done, and he began to think that maybe he had made a mistake in his choice of a biology project. Dr. Matthewson did sound so confident, however, and he was obviously a great doctor. Tim couldn't believe that Matthewson would hurt him in any way, and they had already spent so much time preparing for the experiment. If Dr. Matthewson said it wouldn't hurt, then Tim was willing to believe him. He would just have to bear it.

"Alright," Tim said with considerable doubt in his voice. "But be careful!"

Matthewson smiled. He had finished applying a lubricant to the end of the catheter, and he took Timmy's limp penis in his hand once more. He drew back the foreskin. The purplish cockhead emerged. Matthewson was so close that he could smell the slightly musty odor of Tim's groin and feel the heat of Timmy's penis through his gloved hand. Almost like a small living animal, he thought.

Matthewson glanced back up at Tim's face. His eyes were tightly shut, and he was breathing rapidly, waiting for what was to come next.

Matthewson gently squeezed the tip of Timmy's penis with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, opening the small hole at the end. With his right hand, he inserted the catheter and began to push.

Timmy sighed. Slowly the catheter moved upwards through Timmy's urethra. Matthewson tracked its progress through the fluoroscope and on the television screen across the room. He could watch as the ghostly white worm moved deeper and deeper into the young boy's sex organ. At one point, Tim made a sharp intake of breath. "Sorry," Matthewson said. "We're almost done." Timmy nodded silently and clenched his teeth.

The catheter continued on in its inexorable journey deep into the boy's penis. It's nearly there, thought Matthewson as he stared into the television screen. He could see the alien object distinctly, sharply defined as it invaded the less distinct tissue of Timmy's cock; a thin, white intruder that had burrowed itself deeply into the boy's shaft.

Matthewson had lied to Timmy. He did not push the catheter all the way through and into the boy's bladder. Instead, he halted its progress when he saw that the tip of the catheter was centered just below the vague outlines of Timmy's prostate gland.

Matthewson moved his right hand to the end of the catheter. There was a metallic screw on that end. Matthewson twisted it.

At once, he could see on the television screen that a thin needle probe had emerged at right angles from the tip of the catheter that was buried in Timmy's body. The probe pierced Timmy's urethra and embedded itself deeply into the boy's prostate gland.

"Ow," Tim exclaimed. He had felt a sharp prick in his groin. Dr. Matthewson quickly pulled the catheter out of Timmy's penis and announced with a smile, "That's it. We're all done."

Timmy felt greatly relieved. Now that it was over, in fact, he had to admit that it hadn't been as bad as he feared, except for the brief sting near the end.

What Timmy did not notice was that a thin filament had been left behind in his cock. This tiny metal thread was attached to the needle probe which remained buried in Tim's prostate gland. From there, the filament made its way up the length of Timmy's urethra until it emerged from the tip of his cock. It was so thin that it resembled a human hair. It was thick enough, however, to carry an electric current.

Dr. Matthewson was holding the other end of the filament in his hands, and his back was turned to Tim so that he could not see. Matthewson was threading the little wire through an oddly-shaped device that looked something like a soft toy cannon. Matthewson knew that this was going to be the most difficult part of the experiment to explain convincingly. He just had to trust his powers of persuasion and Tim's evident eagerness to cooperate.

Dr. Matthewson turned back to The Machine, holding the device before him in both hands. "Now, Tim," he began. "This is going to seem very strange to you, but it is really the only way that I can record the very tiny changes in electrical conductivity that take place on the surface of your skin."

Dr. Matthewson paused. The naked boy in The Machine looked up at him innocently, tubes and wires running from his scalp and chest and with curiosity burning in his eyes. "As you know, Tim," he finally continued, "the gonads of the human male are positioned outside of the body because they are extremely sensitive to changes in temperature."

"What are gonads?," Tim asked.

"The testicles, Tim." Matthewson took a breath as Tim blushed. "Now, it may seem very strange to you and it may even be a little embarrassing, but I must attach this last monitor to your genitals because that is the only area of your body that can give me the kind of precise readings that the experiment requires."

Matthewson knew that this was a lot of nonsense and he wasn't certain that the boy would swallow it. He waited.

Tim pondered. In some ways it seemed like a reasonable request. Dr. Matthewson had explained what he wanted to do and why. It was very embarrassing for Tim to have his sex organs out on display, though, much less handled by a stranger he barely knew. But Dr. Matthewson was a doctor. He wasn't a normal stranger. And Tim would hate to make him feel disappointed. Dr. Matthewson understood these things better than Tim. He decided to agree.

"Will it hurt?" Tim asked.

Matthewson broke into a huge grin. He knew he'd won. "Not at all, Tim, not at all. This is simply a recording device to measure changes in electrical current. It won't hurt you in the slightest."

Matthewson brought the strange device over to The Machine. Tim could now see that, except for some connections and wires, it was mostly made out of some sort of clear, soft plastic. It drooped and wilted in Matthewson's big hands. The top of the device consisted of a clear, hollow tube, about ten inches [25 cm] in length. Dr. Matthewson quickly threaded Tim's soft cock into the tube. The surface of the tube immediately collapsed around Tim's penis, holding it snugly. Tim thought it felt nice. The strange plastic material seemed to act and feel more like a liquid in many ways than like a brittle plastic.

There was a thinner, normal tube which extended from the tip of the large tube that now encased Tim's penis, and Dr. Matthewson led it away from The Machine and connected it to some sort of plug in the wall.

The lower part of the odd device had no shape really. It looked something like a misshapen box or coin purse. It was very flexible. Dr. Matthewson gently folded it around the boy's testicles, and the soft material immediately molded itself around the contours of Timmy's balls.

Finally, there was a thin rubber gasket that ran completely around the entire base of the device and which was now lying against Timmy's skin. Dr. Matthewson used his fingers to gently press the gasket against Timmy's body, and the boy could feel the rubber adhering tightly to his stomach and between his legs.

Matthewson gathered up the wires that were attached to the device into a neat bundle and led them away. He rechecked all of his connections and made certain that everything was properly attached.

While Matthewson busied himself with this task, the naked boy lay in The Machine and thought to himself that he must look very silly. He had wires coming out of his head. He had two narrow tubes attached to his nipples. Timmy looked down and contemplated his genitals. They were completely encased in soft, clear plastic. Tubes and wires sprang from his sex organs and extended off to other machines that Tim could only barely see from the corner of his eye. The boy didn't know it, but the small metal probe remained buried deep in his prostate. I will remember this experience for my entire life, Tim thought.

If Matthewson could have heard Tim's thoughts, he would have readily agreed. The boy will remember this experience, that is certain. What Matthewson had done, of course, was to have wired every one of Timmy's erogenous zones.

Except for one.

And that would be taken care of soon enough.

Chapter 4

Having completed his final chores, Dr. Matthewson returned to The Machine and leaned over to look into Timmy's wondering face. "We're done with our preparations, Tim," Matthewson said. "Are you ready to start the experiment?"

'Finally!' Tim thought. He nodded eagerly and beamed up at Matthewson.

"Good!," Matthewson responded. "I'll just close up the doors and we'll get started." Matthewson swung the heavy plastic doors up and over, and they closed tightly over the reclining boy inside. While Tim's head was now the only part of his body which was free of The Machine's grasp, the remainder of his body could be seen clearly through the top and the sides of the transparent doors.

Dr. Matthewson noticed Tim's worried look. "Don't be frightened," he said. "The Machine must be sealed because we will be using a liquid conducting agent that's more stable than air and which will be injected into The Machine itself. The Machine has been built so that you have plenty of room inside. Your head will always remain outside The Machine, and you can always yell if you feel uncomfortable. I will be right next door."

"You're leaving?" Tim gasped.

"No, no, I'll only be in the next room." Matthewson smiled kindly at Tim. "Do you see that mirror on the wall?" Matthewson asked.

Tim turned his head and noticed a large mirror which extended for nearly the entire length of the wall beside him. He nodded his head.

"That mirror," Matthewson explained, "is actually a one-way mirror which is set into the wall between these two rooms. While you cannot see into the other room, I can see everything that takes place in here. There is also a speaker in the other room so that I can hear everything that goes on in this room."

Matthewson paused while the boy slowly absorbed his words. "But why do you have to leave?" Tim pleaded.

Matthewson shook his head. "Because all of the controls for The Machine are located in the other room. I can operate The Machine and every other device in this laboratory from the other room and still pay close attention to everything that happens in here. If need be, I can be back in two seconds."

Matthewson smiled at Tim once more. "Believe me, Tim, everything will be fine. You have nothing to worry about."

Tim still looked a bit worried, but Matthewson decided to act as if the matter were settled. He was not about to tell the boy that the real reason for the separate rooms was so that he could also control the various hidden video cameras and recording devices that were focussed on The Machine and its captive from all angles.

"Now, the first thing you will feel, Tim, will be the conducting agent as it is injected into the Machine," Matthewson explained. "It will completely fill the interior and it should feel pleasant and warm. It is completely safe. As soon as The Machine is full, we shall begin to record our measurements."

Dr. Matthewson smiled one more time at the young boy and reached out a hand to smooth his hair affectionately. Timmy smiled up at him. Dr. Matthewson pressed a small button that was set into The Machine and below Timmy's line of sight. He turned and began to walk towards the door.

Timmy felt something pushing at his asshole.

"Hey," he cried.

Matthewson turned as if he had completely forgotten. "Oh, that's only an internal temperature probe. Just relax and push down. It cannot hurt you."

Timmy sighed in resignation and followed Dr. Matthewson's instructions. The slender probe slipped into the boy's rectum.

Dr. Matthewson was now in the adjoining room, seated before the one-way mirror with a bank of controls immediately before him. He could see Timmy through the window very clearly. The boy had leaned his head back against the headrest and was obviously waiting in some suspense for the next development. His lean, beautiful body was visible through the sides of the clear plastic doors as it reclined inside The Machine. Wires and tubes led from the boy's body through various small openings in The Machine's top, but Timmy himself appeared to be amazingly still. He could almost be asleep, Matthewson thought to himself. Then he noticed that Tim's right hand was clenched in fear and anxiety.

Tim's genitals looked as if they had been perfectly encased in crystal clear gel. The outline of the plastic device exactly followed the outline of Timmy's own sex organs, and Matthewson could see Timmy's cock and balls clearly inside. More wires and tubes flowed from the plastic device, leading out from the top of The Machine.

Matthewson activated the video cameras and then turned one of the dials in front of him. A thick, clear liquid began to flow into The Machine. Dr. Matthewson watched as Tim raised his head at the sound and then looked down as the liquid began to seep higher.

It soon reached the level of Timmy's body. It was warm and pleasant, just as Matthewson had promised. Tim was surprised, however, at how thick the fluid was and by its absolute clarity. It looked something like clear honey.

In a short time, the liquid had completely enveloped Tim's body, and it continued to rise until it had filled the entire Machine. Dr. Matthewson switched off the controls in the other room and waited and watched.

Tim was obviously enjoying himself. He had never felt such a warm and sensuous feeling in all of his short life. The thick fluid which surrounded him was incredibly relaxing. At the same time, the liquid seemed to heighten Tim's senses, opening and electrifying all the pores of his skin. Tim felt all of his worries and inhibitions ebb away.

The only disappointment that Tim felt was that none of the fluid could reach his sex organs. His cock and balls were still tightly imprisoned within their crystalline covering. This was intentional; Matthewson knew that the viscous fluid would gum up the device and defeat his plans for its later use.

Tim, however, sorely wished that he could rub the wonderful liquid all over his genitals. He knew that he would immediately cum like he had never cum before, and he didn't even care if Dr. Matthewson saw him through the mirror from the other room. Tim's hands were restrained, however, so he could not tear the device from his organs. His cock remained flaccid, almost as if it were a part of someone else's body.

Dr. Matthewson watched as the boy's slender body began to writhe slightly within the thick fluid. Twenty minutes had passed, and Dr. Matthewson decided that it was time. Tim had been prepared for the next stage as well as anyone could be.

Dr. Matthewson decided to activate the electrodes that were focussed in on the sex center in Timmy's brain. He flipped a switch on the panel in front of him, and the reaction in the next room was immediate. Tim's mouth opened, his eyes grew wide and his head drew back. Matthewson watched as Timmy's penis instantly snapped into erection and the muscles in his stomach tightened.

For Tim, it was the most mind-shattering feeling he had ever experienced. All of a sudden, Tim's naked body was swept by a wave of pure sexual energy. Combined with the effects of the fluid, Tim felt that his entire body had been transformed into one gigantic penis. He could merely touch any part of his body, and it would begin to spurt semen in long, trailing ribbons.

The focus of the sexual feelings that wracked Tim's body was centered in his genitals. His cock had immediately gone rigid. To Timmy, it felt like steel. His penis was so hard and so engorged that it began to throb and pulse, threatening to break through the plastic tube in which it was encased. Timmy dazedly looked down at his cock. The foreskin was fully retracted, and the purple head looked like a small balloon that was about to burst. The shaft had grown longer and thicker and darker in color than Timmy had ever seen before. His cock seemed almost on the verge of exploding, splattering cum all over the insides of The Machine.

Tim could barely cope with the power of the sexual feelings that were coursing through his body. His head lolled back, his eyes closed and he began to moan in the throes of sexual ecstasy.

As soon as Dr. Matthewson heard Timmy moan, he snapped off the switch. Tim was too close to orgasm. He had to save that event for later, and a less intense stimulus was called for in the meantime to allow Timmy to regain his composure. Dr. Matthewson twisted another dial.

In the next room, Timmy lay exhausted and quietly panting. Beads of sweat had appeared on his brow. The overwhelming sexual feelings had left him, but he was still immersed in the thick, warm fluid that filled The Machine to its brim.

Suddenly, Tim felt something at his nipples. It was a gentle sucking feeling, and Tim realized that it came from the tubes that were attached to his chest. It felt good. The suckers at the end of the tubes worked their steady massage over the surface of Timmy's large, brown nipples. They began to tingle. The nubs at their centers erected. Tim lay back and shivered at the erotic feelings which the suckers gave him.

Watching closely from the next room, Dr. Matthewson knew that the nipple stimulators were the least powerful of all the sexual devices he had attached to Timmy's body. There was little danger that they could cause the young boy to cum all by themselves. For that reason, Matthewson decided to give Timmy fifteen minutes with the nipple suckers so that he would have more than enough time to recover from his earlier and much more powerful experience.

At the end of the allotted time, Matthewson switched off the nipple machine. He could see in the next room that Tim's erection had subsided and that his cock was once more flaccid. He could also see that the nipple stimulators had caused Timmy's nipples to enlarge dramatically. The dusky surface of Timmy's nipples now stood out prominently from Tim's chest with the nubs craning upwards from the center of each nipple.

Dr. Matthewson was ready to try out his proudest creation. This was the device he had labored on for so long, meeting failure after failure in the synthesis of exactly the right artificial material which would both drape properly and carry an adequate electric current. Finally, he had succeeded, and Tim was to be his first experimental subject. Dr. Matthewson reached across the control panel and moved a small lever forward.

In the other room, Tim felt something moving on his penis, and he suddenly became frightened. He started to call out, but then he realized that the tube around his cock had begun to ripple. The movement was slow at first, and it felt like a warm velvet hand had gently gripped his cock and was moving the loose skin on its surface up and down. Tim had not masturbated for three long days, and he enjoyed the gentle feeling in his groin as his erection slowly returned.

Matthewson threw another switch, and Tim felt his testicles growing warm. Simultaneously, the clear plastic that covered his balls began to move and squirm. The effect was to create a steady massage of Tim's balls as the plastic material molded and reshaped itself like a living creature. It gently rolled Timmy's balls about in his scrotum.

Matthewson threw another switch, and Timmy could sense that suction was being applied through the narrow tube that connected to the clear cylinder that now held his erect penis in its grip. The stroking of his cock by the warm, rippling plastic had continued without a pause, and the suction added to the sensations that were now filling Timmy's groin. He felt as if his penis were being stroked and sucked simultaneously.

In the other room, Matthewson decided to increase both the pressure and the speed of the stroking being applied to Tim's cock. He moved the little lever forward another inch. He also reactivated the nipple machine. For good measure, Matthewson flipped a new switch which controlled the movement of the viscous fluid inside The Machine. He sat back to watch.

Imprisoned in his box of plastic and steel, Tim instantly noticed the changes. The plastic molded to his penis began to ripple up and down with increased speed and pressure. The stroking began to concentrate itself on the extremely sensitive area just below the head of Timmy's cock. Tim felt wave after wave of sexual pleasure emanating from his sex organs.

The suckers started up again on Timmy's nipples. Tim could feel the erotic charges shooting through his chest. He watched in wonderment as the liquid filling The Machine began to swirl about his naked body. The warm embrace of Timmy's balls continued, sending tingling sensations up and down his spine.

In the next room, Matthewson realized that he might have to work fast. The boy was getting close, and the next combined stages would have to be meticulously orchestrated. He increased the suction on Timmy's cock. In the next room, Tim could immediately feel the added pressure as his throbbing penis was pulled even deeper into the relentlessly sucking tube.

Matthewson moved the speed and pressure controls on the plastic device which enveloped Timmy's genitals to their maximum settings. He increased the power on the nipple machine, and the little mouths began hungrily devouring Timmy's nipples with even greater urgency. Matthewson looked up, and he could see that Timmy's head had rolled back and that he was beginning to pant.

The next step would be crucial, and Matthewson did not dare to wait any longer. He set off the electrodes attached to Timmy's scalp which activated the sex center deep within his brain. Simultaneously, he started up the anal probe.

In the next room, Tim thought that he was going to die. The overpowering sex feelings had returned, shuddering through his body in a blinding frenzy of fevered lust. The device attached to his genitals was stroking his cock and sucking his cock and fondling his balls. The suckers attached to his nipples were nibbling away with steady fervor. The fluid in the Machine continued to churn and swirl about his body.

And now there was something new. The probe in his rectum which Tim had thought was only a short, narrow device seemed to be expanding and moving deeper into him. In truth, the anal probe inserted into Tim's anus was expanding in size. It was steadily growing until it reached almost two inches [5 cm] in width. It moved deeply into Tim's bowels and then withdrew. It slid back into the naked boy and then set up a rhythmic pattern of steady fucking.

Tim was too far gone to have sensed any pain. The object in his ass actually felt good as it slid across his prostate. Tim's anus began to send out its own erotic messages to Timmy's brain, already overloaded with a flood of sexual stimuli.

Timmy could feel the warmth gathering and concentrating itself in his groin. His cock was bone hard, straining for release. The plastic device continued to stroke and suck. His balls gathered themselves tightly against his body. The anal probe moved steadily in and out of Timmy's rectum. The muscles in his stomach began to tighten. Timmy began to make small thrusting motions with his hips. His body twisted and writhed. His brain was on fire. He couldn't take it any longer. He felt the sperm boiling in his testicles, ready to burst from his cock in a towering jet.

In an involuntary movement, Timmy raised his pelvis from the recliner. The anal probe followed along, continuing to fuck the young boy with long, steady strokes. Every muscle in Tim's lean body tensed. He made one final thrust of his slender hips.

And he came.

Matthewson fired the electrode that was embedded in Timmy's prostate.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Timmy's cry was partly a groan of pure agony and partly a moan of ecstatic release. It came from the very center of his being.

Matthewson had quickly zoomed one of the video cameras into a closeup of the head of Timmy's cock, sealed within its tubing and still being sucked by the plastic device. He could see the small mouth at the tip of Timmy's penis open and then an enormous – seemingly endless – stream of white semen spurted out and was quickly sucked up into the tube.

Through his fogged brain, Timmy felt that his insides might liquefy and shoot out the end of his dick. Everything inside his body felt like it was being pulled down to his genitals. Matthewson had triggered the electrode in Tim's prostate at the precise moment of his ejaculation. Timmy's first spurt seemed to go on forever; cum poured and poured out of the tip of Tim's penis, as he shuddered and strained in the throes of a body-wrenching orgasm.

The second spurt from Tim's penis did not last quite so long, and it did not have the same volume of semen as Timmy's first. It was still a very hard ejaculation, however, and Timmy remained locked into position with his ass raised up off the recliner, his muscles straining and his raging cock jutting upwards above his body.

Dr. Matthewson decided to leave all of the various devices attached to Tim's body in their fully operational mode for a while. He even turned the suction machine up a notch to its highest setting. If he was to measure the volume of Tim's ejaculate accurately, then he needed the boy to be completely drained of all his sex fluids.

And so Timmy continued to cum as the electrode in his prostate and those focussed on his brain continued to fire. It was no longer under the boy's control. His cock throbbed as he spurted out stream after stream of milky white semen, each ribbon of ejaculate to be quickly sucked up by the insatiable sucking machine. Tim's body remained rigid and immobile while his mind was lost in the enveloping clutches of an all-consuming, tortured and never-ending orgasm.

Shortly, Tim's ejaculate began to diminish in volume and to change its color from milky white to clear. Eventually, it stopped altogether.

But this did not alter the violence of Tim's ejaculations. His penis continued to buck and heave in a fierce attempt to spew forth the liquids that were no longer present in the naked boy's body. The electrodes continued to fire. Tim's prostate gland continued to spasm in mock ejaculation, and his brain continued to be suffused with the shuddering pleasure of a furious orgasm.

In the next room, Matthewson had noticed that Tim's ejaculations had turned dry. He wanted to be sure, however, so he decided to give the boy a bit more time.

Twenty minutes passed. Tim's penis was still as hard as metal. He was still cumming and cumming in the adjacent room. His body had started to shake, however, and Matthewson's trained eye had detected what he thought might perhaps be the early signs of heart failure.

He quickly switched off all the devices. Suddenly released from its orgasmic grip, Tim's body collapsed back onto the recliner. Imagine, Matthewson thought to himself, with these devices I could actually cause a young boy to cum to death. Matthewson marveled at the concept, but he knew that he would never be tempted to go that far.

Dr. Matthewson twisted a dial, and The Machine was rapidly drained of its thick fluid. He turned another knob, and mildly soapy water sprayed into The Machine, cleaning its interior and washing the last of the viscous fluid off of Tim's body. This was followed by a quick rinse with clear water, and both Tim and The Machine were now sparkling clean.

Matthewson left the control room and returned to the room where Tim lay in The Machine. Tim's head had rolled back onto the headrest, and his eyes were closed. His mouth was open, and Dr. Matthewson could see his straight, white teeth through which Tim was breathing in a very labored manner.

"Okay, Tim," Matthewson called cheerily. "The experiment is over, and you did an excellent job. I'm very proud of you."

Tim opened his eyes and stared at Matthewson without seeing him. The boy seemed completely disoriented. "Uhhh?" he finally managed to groan.

Matthewson opened the plastic doors of The Machine, unbuckled Tim's wrists and ankles and disconnected him from the various devices. He grabbed a large towel from a cabinet and quickly dried Tim's body. He saw that the boy's body was completely limp.

"Try to stand, Tim," Dr. Matthewson said in a kindly voice. He helped Tim out of the machine, but it was obvious that the boy could not stand up, and he could not speak.

Matthewson decided that sleep would revive the boy's energies. Holding Tim firmly across his shoulders, Matthewson half-led and half-dragged the nude boy down the hallway to a small room where a cot was kept in readiness. He put Tim to bed, turned out the light and closed the door behind himself.

***

Tim awoke and glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He was in bed, naked, but he noticed that his clothes were neatly stacked on a nearby chair. He looked at the small window above his bed and saw that it was dark outside.

All of a sudden, Tim remembered where he was. 'I've got to get home!' he thought. 'It's late!'

Tim quickly pulled on his clothes, opened the bedroom door and peeked outside. He could see a light streaming from the doorway of what looked like a comfortable den down the hall. He headed in that direction.

"Dr. Matthewson!," Tim exclaimed. The doctor looked up from behind his desk and smiled as he saw Tim beaming at him.

"Well, Tim. How do you feel? Are you okay?"

"I'm super," Tim replied happily. "But I've got to go. If I don't hurry, I'll miss Friday night choir practice!"

Matthewson smiled slyly. "Do you know what day this is, Tim?," he asked.

The boy looked puzzled and shook his head.

"It's Sunday, Tim," Matthewson laughed. "You've been sleeping now for two days!"

"Gosh," Tim said. "I don't think I've ever slept that long!"

"Well, you deserved the rest, Tim." Matthewson reached inside his desk and withdrew a piece of paper. "And here's something else you deserve."

Tim took the piece of paper and saw that it was a check.

"Five hundred dollars!" Tim looked shocked. "I've never had this much money all at one time before."

"I said I'd pay my subjects," Dr. Matthewson said. "And you certainly earned it. You were an excellent subject, and I appreciate your help."

Timmy beamed with pride.

After saying good-bye, Tim ran all the way back to the school campus. He headed up to his room thinking happily of all the things $500 could buy.

Over the next week, Tim labored diligently in writing his report for Mr. Channing's biology class. He carefully recorded every detail of what had occurred at Dr. Matthewson's office, and he included his own feelings and observations about the day's events. Timmy tried hard not to leave anything out by mistake. He wanted his report to be thorough and complete, just like a real scientist would make it.

When the class projects were handed back several weeks later, Tim took one look at his paper, and his face broke into a huge smile.

Mr. Channing had given him an A+!

The End