He continued, “this study is designed to assess the way in which the human mind processes and responds to sexual stimuli and how that response differs from person to person. As a part of this study, you will be exposed to various sexual stimuli and encouraged to masturbate.” That prompted a number of us, myself included, to look around room. I’m sure we were all trying to gauge each other’s reactions. For a moment, I made eye contact with Abby, but we both quickly looked away.
Dr. Snyder continued, “these sessions will not be filmed, but you will be expected to fully and candidly discuss your experience afterward with a member of our team. You will each have one faculty member assigned to you.” He swept his arm to indicate he was referring to himself and the 11 colleagues in lab coats flanking him.
“While you will not be recorded or filmed, you may be observed. If anyone does not feel they can masturbate while being watched, please let us know now, while we still have time to select an alternate participant.”
I glanced around the room again, wondering if anyone was going to stand up and walk out. No one did.
“What this study will NOT involve is any physical sexual contact with any of the faculty or your fellow study participants. This is important, so I want to emphasize it. If any physical sexual contact occurs, it will almost surely result in your being kicked out of the study. You will not receive the $10, 000.”
Dr. Snyder paused to let that sink in. Then he continued, “the study will be divided into 12 sessions over a four week period, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 9:00 a. m. The first session will be today, immediately after we’re done here. Each session will last one to two hours, including the post-session debrief. In between sessions, for the duration of your participation in the study, you must refrain from any sexual contact, including masturbation. You must also refrain from socializing with any of your fellow study participants. We’ve selected the 12 of you under the belief that none of you are previously acquainted. If that’s not the case, if you know any of the other participants, please let me know now.” No one said anything.
“Good. Okay. That’s all the background I’m at liberty to share with you at this point, so let’s get to our sessions. As I mentioned, we’ve assigned a faculty member to each of you. Your faculty member will now escort you to your room.”
“Jake,” I heard a familiar female voice say, “you’re with me.” It was Dr. Kaur.
SESSION 1 (DAY 1)
I followed Dr. Kaur upstairs and down a long hallway. She eventually led me into a small room with no windows. It had a flat screen TV mounted on one wall and a low black leather couch opposite the TV. I was surprised to see that, unlike the room I’d been in the week before, there was no one-way mirror in this one. Dr. Kaur instructed me to disrobe completely and put on a hospital gown, which she handed to me. She said I could leave my clothes in the corner of the room. Then she shut the door and was gone.
I did as I was told, putting all my clothes in the corner and putting on the gown. Then I sat on the couch and waited. A few minutes later, I heard a knock and the door opened. Dr. Kaur wheeled in a cart that had some kind of medical equipment on it, as well as several boxes of tissues, a towel, and what looked to be a bottle of massage oil.
“Before we start, I need to attach these sensors to you,” she said, as she held up what looked like two small suction cups. “They’ll record how you respond to various stimuli and remotely transmit the data to this machine here.” She attached the two suction cups to my forehead, and then reached into the cart drawer for several more. She ended up attaching four of the sensors to my chest and four more to my back. She then attached two ‘fit bit’ like bracelets around each of my wrists. Finally, she held up a small item that looked like a thick, white rubber band.
“I’ve saved the best for last,” she cracked a half smile, “I need to place this one around your penis and testes. I promise it won’t hurt. Can you please lift your gown?”
I did what I was told. She gently placed the band around the base of my flaccid penis, then twisted it to create a loop around my cock. Then she stretched the rest of the band and pulled it around my scrotum. The band was cold, but her hands were warm. “There. That’ll do. Don’t worry, it will stretch to accommodate an erection.” Whatever the thing was made of, it didn’t feel constricting. It wasn’t like wearing a cock ring, which I’d tried once and absolutely hated. I quickly forgot the band was even there.
“Okay, we’re all set to begin.” She handed me a remote control. “You’re going to see a variety of sexual images on the screen. If you like what you’re seeing, just keep watching it. If it’s not your cup of tea, press this button to advance to the next clip. We want you to masturbate as you’re watching this. You’ll have up to an hour if you wish. I’ll set the timer before I leave. It’s important to masturbate all the way to completion, so everyone will have the same baseline going into the next session. But please only do so once, and please try last at least 30 minutes before you ejaculate. We want to get at least 30 minutes of data from every session. When you’re done, you can take off the sensors and get dressed. Then just press this button,” she pointed to a red button on the wall,” and I’ll come retrieve you for the debrief. Any questions?”
I had a million, but they all flew out of my head when I was put on the spot. “Umm… no, I’m good, I think.” With that, she pressed the red button and left the room. The TV came to life. A timer appeared in the corner of the screen, like a stopwatch, counting up. The first video that appeared was a clip of a naked woman dancing. She was clearly a porn star, platinum blonde and surgically enhanced. No thanks. I pressed the button to skip ahead to the next clip. I clicked through the next few clips as well, all of which were similar. The women looked different, different hair color, different ethnicities, but they were all very done up, boob jobs and high heels. The first clip to actually capture my attention was one that looked like it was filmed on a computer webcam. A girl was dancing to music, her enormous breasts bouncing up and down. Though her breasts were suspiciously large, she didn’t otherwise look like a porn star. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail and she wore pink cotton panties. She was young and wholesome looking, with a genuine smile. The video seemed more like something a girl might record for her boyfriend than something created for a mass audience. As I watched, I felt my cock swell and reached for it under my gown. Cock in hand, I stroked myself slowly until the clip came to an end.
The next round of clips all featured women pleasuring themselves. Some I clicked through quickly, including one with a girl covered in tattoos; others I watched longer. The only clip I watched to completion featured a freckled girl who had her shirt pushed up over just one of her breasts and was fingering herself in a way that left little doubt that she was genuinely enjoying herself. The sounds she was making were incredibly sexy, subtle and involuntary, not the kind intended for an audience. By the end of that clip, I had a tremendous erection and had to fight a strong urge to finish the act. But only 20 minutes had passed. So instead, I took a break, lifting my gown above my waist and applying some massage oil to my cock.
The next round of clips featured the first actual sex. I skipped through a few that were stereotypically porn, buck-naked actors dispassionately fucking. I skipped through several girl-on-girl scenes as well. Not really my thing. I lingered a while longer on a few that had higher production value, HD video with attractive actors. But the one that finally got to me was one that featured a petite brunette girl with her hair pulled back in tight bun, the way a ballerina’s might be. She was wearing a loosely-draped t-shirt that hung to one side, exposing her left shoulder and breast. She was otherwise naked, slowing riding on top of a man who was lying flat on a couch. The production quality of the video was high and the actors were both very attractive. The woman moved her hips rhythmically, sliding up and down on the man’s cock. After building to a fairly convincing orgasm, the woman slid off the man’s cock and he sat up to kiss her. With her hand, she stroked his cock, rubbing it against her exposed breast as they kissed. Before long, the man came, releasing his load all over the woman’s breast. She smiled as she continued to rub his cock against her now dripping right breast. I was so turned on by the scene that I passed the point of no return. I felt the orgasm ripple through me and shot my cum across the floor. I looked at the screen. The timer read 37 minutes.
After I’d wiped my cum off the floor with a tissue, removed the sensors, and dressed myself, I pressed the red button. Dr. Kaur soon appeared and escorted me down the hall to another room just like the one where we’d first met for the screening interview. It had a table, two chairs, and a one way mirror on the wall. On the table was what looked like a polygraph machine. Dr. Kaur confirmed that it was in fact a polygraph machine and that its purpose was to ensure my candor. Once she’d hooked me up to the machine, she asked some baseline questions to calibrate it. Then she asked me whether I’d had any sexual encounters in the past 48 hours. I said that I hadn’t. She asked if I had masturbated to orgasm during the session and whether I had only done so once, as instructed. I answered truthfully. From there she ventured into more open-ended questions. She had a print out that must have shown her which clips I had watched and for what duration, among other things. She asked me why I had skipped certain clips and lingered on others. I answered as candidly as I could. Finally, she asked why I’d come when I did, what it was about the final clip that had pushed me over the edge. I explained that it was a combination of things, the way the girl looked and how she was still partially clothed. The way she moved and sounded. The realistic passion in the scene. And the way she made him cum onto her breast, in a way that didn’t seem contrived or implausible, in a way that seemed like it was something she actually wanted.