He was not prepared for this. Not prepared at all.

The machine's stimulation was irresistible, helplessly bringing the buck painfully close to climax, but expertly calibrated sensors would cut him off at the last possible moment, rendering the machine inert. Strapped down as he was, he could do little more than wiggle his fingers and toes and buck his hips uselessly into the air in an attempt to finish himself off, but it was to no avail; there was no stimulation to be had unless the contraption allowed it. But there was no rest in the moments of downtime either, for as soon as the device detected a slowing heart or breathing rate, it would kick back in, quickly working him to the precipice of another climax that would never be, ripped away at the last possible second.

He couldn't stand it, not one second longer. But his muffled pleas for release fell on deaf ears - the custodial night staff was under strict orders not to toy with this exhibit under any circumstances (typically a perk of the job), nor could they even if they wanted; the controls were software-locked, none of the buttons or sliders responsive. He would ride this full night out, one desperately denied orgasm after another, even if his sanity could not.

And there were still a little over five hours left of the night, not that he could tell. To him, it had already felt like an eternity.

Unfortunately for the poor boy, he hadn't quite read the fine print before signing the papers allowing him to be sealed away in this display; you see, this exhibit intends to display the full effects of extended denial, and it can't exactly do that if he's released first thing in the morning when the curators show up... no, this fellow's suffering only begins when the sun starts to shine. Needless to say, he'll be putting on quite a show for the guests who drop by his display... for every agonizing minute of the museum's many public hours.

It's going to be a long night for the poor fella.