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Jeremy, in all honesty, wasn't a great student. He'd much rather just go out and get a job, but since all the good ones require a degree, he's stuck here. And it shows. He doesn't go to class regularly, or do his homework a lot, and somehow gets by with the bare minimum.
But he underestimated his psych class.
He lost track of a few half-assed assignments, failed a couple test, and now he has a D. He wouldn't care if the one scholarship he'd managed relied on keeping a 2.5 GPA and the newest Zbox was coming out next semester. No C would mean no scholarship, and no scholarship would mean no Zbox. So, he found himself in the horrible position of actually putting in effort.
Why his bitch teacher couldn't just round up his grade a bit, he had no idea. But with no other alternative, he agreed to sign up for the extra credit....participating in a psychological study.
"Hi!," the cheery blonde says as she walks in. Nice face, but small rack. "My name is Macy Jones, and I'm in charge of the trials! Mrs. Ross said you wanted to partcipate." She smiles at him, clearly expecting some excitement on his part.
"Yeah," he grumbles, scowling at her.
"Um, well, we just need to fill out a few forms before we can begin. Here's the consent form, medical form, confidentiality form, legal..." She keeps talking, but he doesn't listen after that. In his head, he's groaning about all the paperwork he has to fill out. This is going to take the rest of the day, isn't it? And he'd been planning to go to Scott's at 5 to help get the booze and pizza together for a party.
"Whatever," he cuts off whatever she's saying. "Just give them to me already."
Now she scowls at him. As if he was the one being annoying now. He just wanted this to be over already.
She silently extends the stack of papers towards him and he snatches it out of her hand. Then, he chooses to ignore her while he sits down and skims over the pages, signing and dating on lines as needed. He really only pays attention to the medical one; after that he doesn't care. Even if it only cuts a half-hour off their time, he wants to get through it as fast as possible.
"There," he grumbles, shoving it back. A glance at his cell tells him it's 2:34. Then, he has to wait forever for her to get back and tell him they can begin the study.
"Did you read the summary of the study?" she asks while they walk down, deeper into the building. "It's important to understand-"
"No."
"....Right. Well, I'll give you a quick overview then. We're studying how subliminal messages can affect behavior through a series of experiments. You'll be isolated in a room, then we'll give you a small sedative and let you watch a few videos. Then, we'll come back and evaluate any changes in your behavior. Sound okay?"
"Whatever," he grumbles, still not really listening. "How long is this going to take again?"
"....Three hours each session. And you're required to come for three sessions per week for one month. You'll need to schedule those with me before you leave."
Jeremy rolls his eyes. Was this even worth a few points of extra credit? Was it worth the new Zbox?
Well, he's already gotten this far. There was only two weeks left in the semester anyway, so he only would have to do this, like, six times? He could probably do that.
The girl - Mary or whatever - unlocks the door at the end of the hallway and follows him inside. Blank walls and nothing more than a chair and a large tv are inside. He has a feeling this is going to be a very boring five hours.
He sits in the chair, reluctantly giving up his phone, and waits for her to leave. She hands him a small red pill and a bottle of water, making sure that he takes it before she turns around and fiddles with the dvd player.
"You know," he starts, a leer on his face and his eyes on her ass, "we could always just say we did the experiment...and do an experiment of our own instead. I wouldn't mind seeing the effect of my dick on your body-"
Mary abruptly spins around, glaring at him. Well, guess that wasn't going to be happening. Probably for the best - her chest was pretty small. He preferred boobs you could really tittyfuck into, not the small mounds before him.
"Mr. Marshall, like anyone else, I expect a basic amount of decency from you. It wouldn't kill you to be more polite, especially since you asked to be here. I'm not sure how you've gone this long being so rude, but you could really use an attitude adjustme-" She stops suddenly.
He rolls his eyes, but says nothing back. Not worth it.
"Ah, anyways," she continues, a forced smile on her face, "it seems I grabbed the wrong dvd. I'll be back in just a minute. Please stay seated until I return." She paces out, fingers clenched tight around the dvd case.
Jeremy waits, strangely not upset about it taking longer to begin. Everything feels...fuzzy. Distant. More time passes. He relaxes into the chair, almost comfortable enough to take a nap.
Eventually, Mary returns and puts the right dvd in. And - oh, cool, she's giving him a couple more pills. He downs them without question, and moves to look at the tv as she tells him to.
For a few seconds, it's still blank. Then some shapes float onto the screen, spinning in a circle. They're...pretty. They spin and they change and they just keep moving into cool patterns. Jeremy can't look away. He doesn't want to.
Headphones slip over his ears, some music already playing in them. He can't really understand it but it sounds nice.
Pictures start flashing on the screen, barely there long enough for him to notice them. A man, smiling at him. Broad chest, strong shoulders, beautiful muscles. Abs. A thick cock cradled between strong thighs. Again, and again, and again.
At first, he's confused. And maybe... a bit of jealous. They're wonderful, handsome men and he's...not. He doesn't have any large muscles or a large dick. He's not strong or gorgeous like real men are. No, the voice whispers into his ear, you're not a real man. But that's okay, you can be something else. Something that makes them happy.
His head hurts, his pulse pounding in his temples. He knows he's a man. He doesn't want to think this. But the voice keeps insisting. The pictures continue flashing. The shapes keep swirling. His head feels so clouded right now though. It's so hard to think.
He holds out for the first hour.
Then, the second.
The third...he falters.
He makes the mistake of trying to compromise with the voice. Just...give in a little bit. Maybe if he says yes, it'll stop. But it's a recording. It doesn't stop. Over and over again, he makes a small compromise, gives away a bit of his resistance. He keeps giving until there's nothing left.
You're not a real man, and that's okay. You can be something that makes real men happy. You should make real men happy.
A warmth slowly fills his chest, a smile tugs at his lips. It's okay. He's okay. He understands his purpose in a way he never had before. It's a mantra, playing in the back of his head. Rewriting his personality, changing himself in ways he didn't know he could, changing problems he didn't know he had. He wants to be something that makes men happy, and that means getting rid of a few issues.
The Jeremy from before was a real jerk, he decides subconsciously. He should be nicer. I should be nicer. I liked girls who were nice to me, the ones who were easy and cooperative. I should be more like them...
By the seventh hour, he's a different person.
Eight hours in, the screen goes blank.
Jeremy doesn't even notice. The pictures keep flashing in his head regardless, and he mumbles his mantra along with them. He's so deep that the lack of video doesn't matter.
The next video starts to run, and Jeremy's mantra becomes background noise. A different message starts playing. New shapes swirl onto the screen, going round and round. They're just a pretty as the other ones.
More pictures flash on the screen. Smiles, muscles, and cocks. Real men. He wants to see more of them, to be closer to them. Make them happy.
Yes, you feel happy making others happy. Especially big, strong men. You love making them smile, or laugh, or come. You love being helpful in any way.
His cock aches, locked inside his jeans. A line of drool runs down his chin. The pictures change again, the angles change. He's on his knees now, looking up at the gorgeous cocks and abs. He's underneath them, arms wrapped around their necks. Spreading his legs. Sucking. Licking.
Their orgasms make you feel so good, and you could come just from thinking about it. You could come just from getting on your knees and being a good little slut until you taste their cum. Lick their cocks, savor the musky thickness. Worship them with your body.
He's so thirsty, his mouth horribly dry as he fumbles uselessly at his dick. He's painfully aroused, but his brain is much too preoccupied to unzip his pants. Oh well, he'll just keep palming and rubbing through his pants as he looks at the spirals and pictures.
Such a good slut. Ready to fuck any man that looks at you twice, ready to obey.
So empty without a nice, big cock inside you.
Want a mouthful of warm, salty-
Slut
A nice hard fuck-
morning blowjobs
Take it all
Slut
kneel, obey
Spread for me
Slut
submit
Jeremy moans as he comes, shaking and desperate. He feels like a teenager again with a baseline of horny and ready to cream his pants at any moment. Coming helps relieve some of the arousal...but there's plenty more of it left curling in the pit of his stomach. If he weren't so sensitive right now-
Oh. He's already hard again. How long had it been? Had he really even come? If it weren't for to warm, sticky mess in his underwear, he wouldn't think so.
Well, it's good that he's so eager. If anyone asked him to bend over for them, he'd be ready to go in a heartbeat. He'll just keep himself going until that happens...
Slut, slut, slut.
_______________________________
Distantly, Jeremy hears a door close.
He's been watching the videos for more than 13 hours and has orgasmed five times, the last two completely dry. Around the eleventh hour, he'd finally managed to get his pants open and start fingering himself, so now he has three spit-slicked fingers thrusting steadily into him. He so far past any shame that he doesn't think to cover up.
Two voices filter through his headphones. He listens a bit, just in case one of them wants him to do anything, but he doesn't care too much about anything else they're saying...
What the hell?! You said it would make him nicer, not...this!
It did make him nicer...it just has a few other effects, too. And it looks like he's enjoying them, so I don't really see what your problem is.
You don't see my problem?! Are you serious?! He looks like a mindless whore, Alice!
Which is what he was treating you like, remember? I doubt anyone will mind the change.
What about his family?! Or his friends?! Oh god, we could get in so much trouble-
Relax, Macy, jeez. Do you really think I hadn't thought about this? Look, I know a guy. All we have to do is drive him over there and he'll take care of the rest.
What do you mean he'll take care of the rest?! Like....like some kind of mafia thing?
Ha, no. He just owns a club. Jeremy will have the chance to be his beautiful, slutty self with a bit of an audience. Dance a little, take a few Johns, keep himself busy. He'll be in his own little heaven.
You're going to prostitute him?! No! We can't do that-
Well unless you have any other ideas, we're going to have to. You could get in serious trouble for this, you know?
Hey! It was your videos! You're the one who did this!
No, actually, you did. You chose to have him watch it. And I may have given them to you, but I wasn't the one who gave him those pills. At most, I could be charged with aiding in the crime, but you're the most at fault. It's your name on all the paperwork, Macy.
But...but I didn't mean...
Macy, sweetheart, it's too late to regret it now. He's a different person now, we can't change him back. The world's better off without the jerk anyway. Now, we can either put him where he'll be happy, or we can let him go off on his own and let him tell everyone what you did. Do you really want your psych license revoked because of this?
...
_______________________________
Jeremy twists his hips, grinding lightly down on the john's lap.
His old self is a thing of the past, a distant shame to the new him. He'll always be grateful for the second chance he's been given. A chance to help so many men, to have a real purpose in the world...
He's dressed in skimpy lingerie with his lips painted red, and his eyes look happy and dazed. Little gasps escape his mouth as he enjoys the thick bulge against his ass and the man licking away at his throat. Of all the whores in the back room, he's the most eager and energetic by a long shot.
The man whispers into his ear, so like the voice that started it all, calling him names and telling him to do filthy, wonderful things. Jeremy revels in it, overjoyed, and does his very best.
He's making him happy. He's obedient. He's a good slut.
He's complete.