Archive of Our Own ^beta

DAY 1

The visor immediately makes his head hurt with all the colours and spirals bombarding his mind, but he can't take it off. He signed an agreement not to take it off; it's part of the research trial.

"Welcome, Mr. Thompson." The doctor arrives while the nurses take his blood pressure and collect a blood sample to analyse. “Thank you so much for taking part in this project. We're very excited and grateful you're here.”

The doctor is a young man, younger than Nate imagines doctors to be, with jet black hair and a wide, arresting smile. Nate’s chest gives a loud thud, but he pushes it down because he has no capacity for romance when he's just trying to survive. Since Sasha broke up with him, it’s been three weeks of sleeping in his car and trying to cobble together an application for a job that would save his ass. The only reason he decided to take part in this research trial was the money.

The doctor introduces himself as Dr. Hawkins, and goes on about Nate’s test results, but it's hard to concentrate from all the bursts of colour in front of him. Nate frowns; he feels a headache developing behind his brows. He can already feel that this is gonna be a long week.

DAY 3

Nate’s just getting used to the spirals the next time he has to see Dr. Hawkins. Dr. Hawkins smiles when the boy steps into his office, again that same charming smile. Nate smiles back.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Thompson?" Dr. Hawkins asks.

"Better. It's—It was difficult in the beginning..." The visor, those constant spinning lights in his periphery made it difficult to focus, impeded his daily functioning, but now he can barely see them. Or rather, he sees them all the time, even when he's closing his eyes, those ever-spinning lights.

"Very good," Dr. Hawkins says. He seems happy with experiment, so Nate’s glad to be able to help with the never-ceasing forward march of science.

DAY 5

The spirals are pretty actually. Nate likes the way they sparkle, and sometimes he catches himself just stopping and staring at them, his mouth falling open. Sometimes there are letters, words flashing across his vision, but he has to concentrate to read them. They say something along the lines of relaxing and letting go of worries, which is nice. Considerate. Nate has too many worries as is.

But he does ask Dr. Hawkins about it. Dr. Hawkins seems proud of him for being able to read those letters.

"That's a sign of your good capabilities, Mr. Thompson. Not everyone is able to read the text that appears on the visor, but the fact that you can is a sign that you'll achieve highly in this test."

Nate flushes, pleased. He isn't sure what test the doctor is talking about, because he thought this was a research trial, no need to achieve anything, but he's not a doctor. He doesn't need to know; it's enough to know he's doing well.

DAY 7

Nate can't do much more now but stare at the spirals, trying to read the text flashing across the screen.

It still says, RELAX, but now it also says, MINDLESS.

DON'T THINK.

SLUT. WHORE. OBEY.

HORNY.

And Nate's horny, so very horny, he's jerking off seven times a day, still staring at the spirals, because he has no other choice, but somehow... Somehow those spirals make everything better. Nate finds its rhythm and times his strokes to the flashing lights. SLUT – says the light, and Nate cums, his hips jerking, and yeah, he is, he is such a slut, cumming for the seventh time that day.

He's masturbating when he realises he has a doctor's appointment. He almost leaves the house in his boxers, he's so busy reading the lines on the visor, but he remembers just in time and dresses, slowly wandering into Dr. Hawkins' office.

"How're you feeling, Nate?" Dr. Hawkins asks, like they're friends.

Nate giggles. There's a swooping feeling in his tummy, like butterflies, when the doctor smiles.

"Hi," he says, grinning back.

"Hi, Nate." Dr. Hawkins has a patient, lovely voice. "How are you feeling?"

"So good." Nate smiles dreamily, gets lost in the curve of a spiral. His cock strains in his pants. "'m getting hard," he announces and reaches for his zipper, but then realizes; he can't do that. He's at the doctor's office. He falters, embarrassed.

Dr. Hawkins' smile broadens.

"Why did you stop?"

"I'm. Uh." Nate's face is burning. Absently, he's still running a finger along the line of his cock, and that really doesn't help concentrating. "I—I dunno..."

"Feel free to touch yourself, Nate. If it feels good."

Yeah, it does, it feels so good. Nate isn’t sure anymore why he shouldn't touch himself if it feels so good, he can't remember. He gets lost in his quickening strokes around his cock, and when he cums, he feels dizzy and light, and the doctor smiles at him.

"Very good, Nate." Nate smiles, proud to be doing very good. He rubs his dick gently, soothingly.

"You're almost ready."

"Mhm, thank you," Nate sighs.

DAY 10

Nate doesn't know where he is, doesn't know why he's there, he just knows that he feels very good.

The spirals make him feel good, so good that he can't think about anything else.
People touch him sometimes, fuck him: fuck his face, his ass, his tits. He has tits now. Titties, funny, bouncy titties, and he plays with them, and they're super soft in his hands.

He also has a pussy; it's always sooo wet and he can't stop rubbing it. So sensitive. So good.

The doctor man comes sometimes and smiles at Nate and sometimes lets Nate suck his cock.

"Hii." Nate grins up at him after he had come on his face.

"Hi, Natty," the doctor says.

"I love youu," Nate mumbles, rubbing his cheek against the guy's cock. He fingers himself, his hips bucking forward. "Love coock..."

"Very good, Natty." He pats Nate’s head. "I’m proud of you, my little bimbo."

"Bimboo?" Nate looks up at the man, drooling, and sees the spirals sparkle around his head. "So pretty... pretty..." He's getting close, rubbing his little clitty, and there's the text, the text!
SLUT – and Nate comes, crying out, "Sluut," yes, yes, that's what he is, the nice doctor guy says so too, and giggling, Nate slumps against his leg.

"'m a slut," he tells the man. "Dirty, little slut. So horny all the time." Is that a problem? For a moment, a sliver of a moment he thinks it is, but then again, everything is pleasure. There are no problems.

The man adjusts himself in his pants with a groan.

"Yes, you are, my little golden goose." He leans down and kisses Nate's forehead. Nate giggles. How silly.

"Goosey," he mumbles.

"Now go on." The guy slaps his butt, and Nate's wet again, so horny. "Back to work now, my sweet."

And Nate goes, back to the men, their cocks, the pleasure and the colours, back to his perfect life.