Euphrates Pharmaceuticals:  Enhanced Memory

Nicky Noxville

All my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

This story is brought to you by my wonderful supporters. I love you guys!

And now, our feature presentation…

I stared down at my final exam and grinned gleefully.  There was no doubt in my mind that I’d just aced that test.  My eyes slid over each page, going over the complex calculations and formulas one last time.

I found no mistakes.

I got up, gathered my possessions, and walked to the front of the lecture hall, the faint scratching of pens and pencils on paper all around me.  The professor raised an eyebrow when I handed her my exam, and I turned back to observe that I was first to finish.

I’m first?

I’m first!

My mind reviewed all the times I’d glanced around the room during tests in the past, observing with increasing panic how many people finished before I did.  All that had started to change over the past week, after I had volunteered to participate in a Euphrates Pharmaceuticals trial.  I pulled the little bottle out of my pocket and took out one of the tiny, orange pills.

“Previous trials indicate a potential increase in cognitive function ranging between 20% and 67% at the upper end of the curve,” the silver-haired Euphrates doctor had explained to me.  “For now, you’ll want to take one every four to six hours for best results.”

It was time.

I tossed the pill into my mouth and swallowed it as I walked across campus and back to my apartment.  I grinned as my mind was filled with a crystal-clear image of the label on the pill bottle; another side effect.

Speaking of side effects…

I could feel my chubbed up dick against my thigh as I walked, the denim that surrounded it tugging tighter, and then releasing, again and again with each step I took.

“Another potential side effect,” Dr. Delaney had explained, “is a noteworthy increase in libido.”

That was a fact, I thought with a snort as I kept walking.  I’d already jacked off five times this morning.  My mind filled with a montage of my hard cock swelling, throbbing, and then spewing cum high into the air to splash back down onto my body, or spray against the door of the stall I was jerking in, or across my room, leaving wet spots on my carpet…  It seemed like I was cumming a lot more than ever before, every time, even though I only used to jack off every couple of days…

Fuck, I need to cum again!

My dick was suddenly raging hard and leaking, making a thick bulge with a wet, darkened patch at the end of it.  I was getting looks.  I turned and walked down a footpath on one of the university’s many, manicured parks.  I knew this one had a little public restroom in it; I could jack off there.

As I walked, my mind continued moving back through the past week, to the sight of my own cock cumming over, and over, and over again.  I moaned, and a passing jogger looked back at me with a funny look.

I didn’t care.

In my head… I was cumming again and again.

I need to jack off!

I picked up the pace and finally jerked open the door to the men’s restroom, rushing into an open stall and locking the door behind me with trembling fingers.  I tugged off my clothes and let them fall to the floor, oblivious to how visible they would be to people outside the stall, given the foot-and-a-half gap between the bottom of the partition walls and the floor.

My cock sprang free, and I sat back on the toilet, naked, and gripped it in my fist.  I started pumping, my eyes glued on my shaft, ready to see it spraying cum again…

The jogger who had passed me before was standing in the suddenly open door of the stall.  I was still sitting on the toilet, masturbating, my body flooded with wave after wave of pleasure beyond what I’d previously known, but I wasn’t cumming.

He was, though.

The jogger’s swollen dick was spraying cum, fountaining into the air before splashing down in front of him.  He was moaning, and grinning, and sliding his hand up and down his shaft to coax out every drop.  Finished, he tucked his cock away and left, but I couldn’t stop jacking off.

I could see it, this stranger’s cock spewing repeatedly, looping in my brain, as I stared at my own cock, sliding my hand up and down until…  My cock throbbed, the veins stiffening, the glans flaring… It jerked a few times, and then cum was spraying up into the air.  I had forgotten to aim away from myself, and as I result I rocketed up into the air and felt my cum splashing down all over my body.

I just watched it happen, and moaned, and kept stroking until it was finally over.

But my cock stayed hard.

And I stayed horny.

I needed to do it again!

I threw my head back and started pumping again, but I needed to see it, too!  I pulled my head up and focused my gaze on my erection…

I was cumming!

I was cumming again!

I knew that time had passed between orgasms, but all I could remember was cumming once, and then again, and then…

Another man, older, gruff, a stranger, was stroking his cock in front of me, leering at me as I watched it swell and start to squirt, splashing down onto the floor.

And I was cumming again!

And I was cumming again!

And…

I woke up in bed, flailing, fighting the sheets that had wrapped around my naked body in my sleep.  I finally broke free and realized where I was; safe, at home, in my own bed.  The mix of relief and lingering adrenaline left me uncomfortable and breathing heavy for a few moments.  I looked down at my body, and gasped; my heaving chest, shoulders, arms, abs, groin, thighs… Everything I could see seemed sticky and matted with dried cum, clumps of body hair plastered together.

What had I done yesterday?  How had I gotten home?

I reached over to the bedside table and grabbled the little bottle of pills, tossing one back and then laying back in bed, closing my eyes.  I thought back to the previous day, trying to remember what had happened…

I was in bed, last night!  I was jacking off, over and over; I could see it as clearly as if it were happening now, my erect penis spraying load after load of cum into the air.

Yet they were happening in reverse order, so each time I would cum, and the next orgasm would begin, I’d be cleaner, and then I was back in the bathroom stall.

And then a stranger was standing in front of me, cum spurting from his dick. 

I moaned where I lay, my fingers closing around my erection to begin stroking my morning wood as I watched myself cum a few times, and then the jogger was there, sneering at me as he came.

I moaned and opened my eyes, watching as my fist coaxed the first orgasm of the day from my tender cock.

“No, stop!” I cried out, pulling my hand back before I could start pumping again.  I watched it throb, needy, but refused to indulge myself.  I knew that I was forgetting something important from yesterday.  I didn’t know what, but I knew I’d done more than jack off all day and watch those other guys jack off, too!

I struggled, eyes squinted shut, forcing down the many memories of ejaculating penises that came to me so easily.  Yes!  There it was!  It was foggy, but…

I’d struggled to stop jacking off in the bathroom, like I had just done in bed, and started to get dressed.  When I stood up in the stall, I could feel cum dripping down my body.  When I looked down at the floor, at my clothes… I gasped.

My clothes seemed to be more wet than dry, and I recognized both piss and cum staining the fabric.

In the present, my cock surged back to life; not that it had gotten anywhere near flaccid. I gripped it in my fist and started pumping.

Back in the stall, my body had been dripping cum, my hair wet with it.  I’d picked up my filthy, piss and cum stained clothes and pulled them on.  The cold wetness had caused my flesh to tingle and break into goosebumps. 

I could smell the piss.

I could smell the cum.

I’d looked at myself in the mirror, and it looked like a crowd of men had sprayed me down with piss and cum.  It was humiliating, and I had watched my cock swell beneath the wet denim before struggling to pull my eyes away and turn to leave the bathroom.

It had been dark outside at least, so only a few people noticed how nasty I looked on my way off campus and to my apartment.

I moaned, coming back to the present, and watched myself cum again, the wet cum splashing down and over the dried layers already covering my skin.

“Stop stop stop!” I cried out, fighting to pull my hand away, again.  I rolled out of bed and ran into my bathroom, penis flopping and dripping along the way.  I turned on the cold water and stepped under it, struggling to muffle my shriek at the shock of the cold water on my skin.  I started rubbing my body, working free the layers of dried cum that had plastered me.  I lathered up my hair and worked my fingers through stiff clumps before grabbing my loofah and going to town with my body wash.

It was a little awkward, since I was trying not to touch my penis, but also refusing to look down at it.  Finally clean, I climbed out of the shower and pulled on my jeans and a t-shirt.  I tugged on my socks and shoes, tucked the bottle of pills in my pocket with my wallet and phone, and left for the Euphrates building.

“Nnnnnn,” I moaned softly, alone in the exam room, as I bounced my thighs together, squeezing my penis between them.

This is nuts!

I’m out of control!

There was a knock at the door, and I stopped and sat up straight, crossing my legs to conceal my erection and the wet spot.

“Welcome back.  I hear you are having some problems with side effects?” Dr. Delaney said, looking down at me with concern.

“Y-yes, it’s the… It’s the libido thing.” I struggled to explain, my cheeks burning red.

“You are experiencing an enhanced libido?” The doctor pressed, and my mind rushed back over my near constant masturbation the day before.

“Doc, I’m out of control!” I finally cried out.  Sure, it was embarrassing, but I had to make it stop.  “I can’t stop jack—masturbating,” I corrected myself as I spoke.

“Do you have the pills with you?” He asked me.  I nodded and pulled the bottle from my pocket.  “Go ahead and take one.  I know just the solution for your problem, I’ll be right back.”  With trembling fingers, I slid a single pill past my lips and set it on my tongue, swallowing it as soon as my fingers were free.

I sat there, staring forward, unseeing, as I kept following the events of the previous day—orgasm after orgasm, some of them not mine!

“There, that should do it,” Dr. Delaney’s voice brought me back to the present.  He was standing right in front of me, looking down.  I looked down, too.

My jeans were open, but my leaking erection wasn’t there anymore.  It had been replaced by a little, leaking nub in some sort of metal cage.  I felt myself swell against it, throb inside it.

“What is that!” I squeaked.  My hands hovered over my crotch, not touching, not even sure what to do.

“It’ll help you stop masturbating,” the doctor reassured me.  “Now, off you go.”

I could feel it in my jeans, the cage, and inside it my cock was throbbing worse than before.

It felt good, almost like jacking off, but different…

I kept walking and realized that it felt like I was going to cum soon.

“No no no no no…” I muttered as I stepped faster.  I was close to the park, and the bathroom, from yesterday.  I tried to think of where else to go, but I couldn’t think of any other places.  I pulled the bottle from my pocket and took another pill, hoping to distract myself from the almost-familiar sensations rising inside me.

Into the bathroom.

Into the stall.

There was a moment of darkness as my shirt went over my head before falling to the floor, the pale material soaking in the faint yellow of puddles on the tiled surface.

I shoved my jeans down and discarded them on the piss-soaked floor..

My penis was there, exposed, struggling in the cage and making it wiggle.

I sat down, panting, and gripped the rails on either side of the stall.  I’d left the door open, but… Isn’t that what you should do?  I remember it being open yesterday when…

“Unnn!” I groaned, watching my caged cock thrash and then burp out a spurt of cum that wasn’t accompanied with any measurable amount of relief.

In fact, I felt like I could do it again; I wanted to do it again.

“Hoooooooly shiiiiiit,” A voice interrupted me.  I looked up, squeezing my thighs together to hide my caged cock, and saw one of the biggest men I’d ever seen in my life.  At least in person.  He was like a wrestler, or body builder, and his bulge was huge.

I knew that because I was staring at it.

My hand absently snaked down between my things, and my fingers closed on metal.  I fumbled at it and looked up at his face, at his sneer as he stepped closer, entering the stall, towering over me, bringing his bulge within reach, and stepping on my clothes with no concern for them.

“Wanna… Wanna jack off!” I whined, allowing my thighs to spread wider as I fumbled.  My cock strained, and the queer sensations rose up suddenly, sending more cum spurting and dribbling from the end of the cage.

“Sure, I’ll help you out,” he said, and I could tell by the way his shoulders moved that he was doing something with his hands.  I looked back down and gasped; his cock was right there, bobbing in front of me.

It was big like him, long and thick, and my eyes could see his heartbeat in the pulsing veins that fueled it.

“You can’t jack yourself off, so go ahead, jack me off.”

Jack me off.

Jack me off.

Jack me off.

Jack me off.

The words echoed in my head, opening my mind to new worlds of possibilities.  The doctor had thought the cage would keep me from masturbating, but he forgot that I could masturbate other penises, too!

I reached out with both hands and gripped his erection, squeezing it, and feeling it throb in answer.

“Haha, there you go.  Jack it, dude!  You can spit on it if you need to.” He said.  I pulled my hands back reluctantly, spit into my palms, and gripped his cock again.

That’s better!

My hands started to glide up and down the shaft, working it slowly, not so much trying to make it cum as I was trying to see how much it could handle before cumming.  It was so close now that I could smell it, and my eyes slid up and down its length, just like my hands.

I pulled my left hand back for a moment when my spit started to dry.  Without thinking about it, I licked my palm and slapped my hand back against the cock.  I’d already repeated the action with my right hand before I realized I could taste his penis now.

“Huuuuuuhhhhhnnn!” I moaned as my caged penis squirted again.

“Ohhh, fuck, faggot, you’re really good at jackin’ dick!  Aww, fuck, dude, I’m gonna cum!” I watched and felt his penis swell, and then cum fountained from the tip, splashing right back down onto my face as I kept pumping.  He shot his final spurt, and then…

I was watching a different penis start to squirt, and I was feeling it in my hand.  I didn’t know who this was, but I could hear him mocking me as I pumped a load from his dick until…

I was making another guy cum, his penis much smaller.  I was dimly aware of a police uniform behind the penis until…

It changed to a bigger penis with a well-tailored suit behind it, until…

It changed to a short, fat, cock sticking out of shorts with a tank top behind it, until…

I wasn’t in the bathroom anymore, I was at home, and I was on my knees stroking a new cock, the first spurt of cum still hanging in the air, on course for my face.  I focused on the face behind the spurt and recognized my brother.

“Yeah, faggot!” He cried out as I opened my mouth and let his cum splash across my face and tongue, my hands still pumping his erection, coaxing out every spurt until the last, and then…

I was somewhere else, stroking someone else, watching him cum.

It started to feel like I was standing still, and the world was rushing around me, placing me in front of cock after cock in need of stroking.

“You’re coming along perfectly,” I recognized Dr. Delaney’s voice as I showered myself with cum from a man in a lab coat.  The fog started to return when the cum stopped, but hands gripped my hair and the doctor’s face moved in front of mine.

“What do you remember?” He asked, yelling the words slowly.

Remember?

I struggled, and then moaned as it all started to replay, cocks cumming.  My cock, other cocks, but I remembered cocks cumming.

“Coooocks! Cuuuummmmm!” I squealed as my own caged dick struggled and squirted again.

“Excellent,” he said as everything went black.

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