A Thorough Research Study

The metal of the exam table was cold against my ass. I don't know why they even bother with the paper gown, since it doesn't close around the back - and since I'll be naked soon enough anyway.

The lead researcher was busy behind a desk as his assistant handed me a clipboard. "We'll have to videorecord your responses as well, you understand?" the assistant chirped. I nodded my head in agreement. She showed me where to sign and initial on the 15 pages of the consent form, and as I handed the clipboard back to her, the lead researcher sat in front of me on a small stool with wheels. His assistant retreated behind the camera and soon I saw the little red recording light come on.

"Ms. Anderson," Dr. Morgan said, "thank you so much for agreeing to participate in this research study. As the copious amounts of literature we have already provided you with have described, we will be learning from your body's sexual responses as part of a comprehensive study that seeks to quantify and qualify all manner of human sexual response. The potential benefits to society are great: we might uncover new data that enable doctors and psychiatrists to better understand and aid individuals with repressed sexualities; we might learn more about the enigmatic components of the female sex and orgasm; we might discover new routes for sex therapy.

"The Institutional Review Board that is overseeing our research also requires me to inform you of the potential benefits to yourself, which are negligible. You may in fact experience physical and mental discomfort based on your participation in this study. But you might learn more about your own sexuality and leave the study with a better understanding of your own sexual needs and your personal paths to orgasm.

"At this time I would request you to turn towards the camera and reply in the affirmative to the follow statements so that we have a video record of your informed consent to participate in this study.

"Do you understand that this study will manipulate and monitor your sexual response to a variety of stimuli?"

"Yes."

"Do you consent to allowing our team of researchers, which include medical doctors, PhDs, and PhD candidates, to touch your body, including your sex organs, with their fingers and with medical instruments and other objects, in an effort to elicit sexual response?"

"Yes."

"Do you consent to having the entirety of each research session video- and audiorecorded?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that the raw data files of these video and audio recordings will NOT mask your appearance or voice but will only be available to the researchers themselves and will be destroyed after a period of 10 years?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that audio and videorecordings in which your appearance and voice HAVE been masked will be made available to other researchers and professors at this university, or within the colloquia of local universities, and to publishers who may choose to publish images from this study in textbooks or popular medical texts that are available to the public?"

"Yes."

"Do you affirm that you will appear at each of the eight research sessions we have scheduled for you, each of which will last for approximately 4 hours, and that you will abstain from sexual activity including masturbation for a minimum of 24 hours before the start of each appointment?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that you will be paid $200 at the conclusion of each research session and an additional $1000 at the conclusion of the final session?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand that you can choose to terminate your participation in the study at any time, including in the middle of a research session, but that you are only entitled to the compensation you have received up to that time?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful, Ms. Anderson. That clears up all the 'paperwork,' so to speak, so now we can get down to business!"

Dr. Morgan glanced toward his assistant, who stopped the recording and came out from behind the camera. "If you wouldn't mind following me," she said, "I can take you to the room where we'll be working today, and introduce you to the rest of the team."

As I pushed myself off of the table, I realized that I was leaving a rather wet spot glistening on the metal behind me, and that my inner thighs were fairly drenched with my arousal. The doctor's reading of the consent dialogue had thoroughly excited me, with embarrassing results. I tried to keep my legs together as I followed the assistant through a door and down an empty hallway, although I realized that the researchers I was about to meet would soon be seeing far more than my shiny thighs.

The assistant opened another door, and I was led into what seemed to be a state-of-the-art operating theater. We were in a research facility, not a hospital, but it appeared that the department's research needs included full-scale reproduction of a rather large and technologically advanced operating theater, complete with a gallery that I now saw was filled with at least 10 would-be viewers.

Two men and a woman looked up as we opened the door and walked over to introduce themselves. "Sandra," one said, addressing the assistant, "thank you for bringing Ms. Anderson to us! You can join our PhD students in the gallery, if you'd like."

Sandra smiled and left through another door, only to reappear moments later among the audience above.

The man turned to me. "Ms. Anderson, I am Dr. Adams. Along with my colleagues Dr. Schafer -" he indicated the woman "-and Dr. Dean, and of course Dr. Morgan who you have already met, we will be working with you today to form a baseline of sexual response that we will then manipulate in our 8 later sessions."

The two other doctors smiled as I shook their hands. "Dr. Dean here is our gynecologist, and today the only medical doctor in attendance," Dr. Adams continued. "The rest of us are medical and psychological researchers with PhDs in our respective fields. Dr. Dean will get you started as we wait for Dr. Morgan to join us."

Dr. Dean put his hand on my shoulder and guided me over to the examination table, which had the classic gynecology stirrups affixed to the end of it.

"If you wouldn't mind removing your gown Ms. Anderson, and sitting up here on the table, please," he intoned.

I shed the paper gown and lifted my now-nude body up onto the table. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that the PhD students in the gallery seemed to be leaning forward to get a better view of their new subject of study.

Dr. Dean brought the back of the table into a reclined siting position and lifted my ankles into the stirrups. Bright lights came on and I felt my whole body - and every orifice - lit up as though I were on stage.

I noticed that the cameras in the room had become active too, and were displaying different views of my body on screens positioned to give the gallery viewers a close-up of every area of interest. Turning my head one way and then the other, I observed that one camera was directly positioned to film my entire body from above; another was hanging from the ceiling and angled toward my cunt so that it filmed that region without getting in the way of the doctor in between my legs. Additionally, Dr. Dean had a camera affixed to a band around his head - like the head mirror worn by doctors half a century before. I surmised that this camera sought to give the viewers the closest possible view of my areas of interest.

I felt padding underneath my knees as the two other doctors added sturdy bars to the stirrups so that I didn't have to worry about keeping my legs upright. My legs were still held together, knees touching, but not for long; without a word, Dr. Dean pulled the sides of the stirrups apart, and my cunt was open in front of him.

His gloved hands lightly touched my outer lips, and then the sticky patch on my thigh. "Ms. Anderson," he said, "it seems that you are aroused even before we have begun any stimulation."

I blushed and tried to ignore the marked interest of the students in the gallery. Dr. Schafer appeared by my side at the top of the table. She was flipping through a clipboard.

"Ms. Anderson, if you wouldn't mind, please tell me when your arousal began, and what in particular caused you to self-lubricate." Her pen was poised, ready for my response.

I could feel my cheeks getting more and more red as I tried to decide how to reply.

"Well... when I was in the other room and Dr. Morgan was reading through the statements of informed consent... I kind of... I guess I started imagining parts of the study and it got me... you know... excited."

Dr. Schafer nodded as she scribbled. "On a scale of one to ten, could you rate your arousal when you were listening to Dr. Morgan, and your arousal now?"

My tongue felt heavy in my throat. "Uh, I guess a six or seven then? And maybe a five now."

I could see the students taking notes as well, and whispering to one another, all with a clinical gaze in their eyes.

"And one last question Ms. Anderson," Dr. Schafer continued. "Would you say that, in general, descriptions of sexual acts, and of your own sex organs and sexual response, tend to arouse you and cause you to self-lubricate?"

"Yes," I mumbled, now thoroughly embarrassed.

"So for example, right now I am causing you to become even more aroused, by pointing out the copious self-lubrication coating your labia majora, labia minora, and inner thighs - is that correct?"

She was doing it on purpose, I could tell... and as if on cue, I felt a drop more of my wetness ooze out of me. Dr. Dean looked up from between my legs, as if to indicate to Dr. Schafer that her technique was working.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Very good," said Dr. Schafer. She glanced toward the door. "Dr. Morgan should be here any moment - but perhaps we should go ahead and start the shave?"

Dr. Dean nodded his agreement. "Now Ms. Anderson, I'm just going to be wiping you up a bit to get you ready for a quick shave. We need to be able to see all parts of you, so that means the hair has to go."

He used an alcohol wipe to thoroughly cleanse my cunt and wet inner thighs, and then a second wipe attended to my asshole. The two other doctors tied straps around my knees, affixing them even more firmly to the padded extensions from the stirrups so that I could no longer move my legs, and then Dr. Dean opened the stirrups up all the way and dropped the lower leaf of the table from under my ass. I was now spread open and immobilized from the waist down.

Without a word, he went to work, snipping away my curly hairs and then lathering the bits that remained. He shaved me with a straight razor - expertly - and went over everything twice, carefully pulling my lips this way and that to expose every surface to his blade. At the end, he instructed the two other doctors to take hold of each of my asscheeks to expose the few hairs there. "Relax now," he instructed me firmly. "Keep your anus completely relaxed as I shave, or you could cause me to cut you." I closed my eyes to the shame as I relaxed my asshole and felt his blade swipe threateningly close to it.

As he was wiping away the last bits of hair and shaving cream with a wet cloth, the door opened, and I could tell that Dr. Morgan had entered. He came around to inspect Dr. Dean's work.

"Very nice," he commented, his face so close to my cunt that I could feel his breath on me. He slipped a glove onto one hand and began to poke and prod, checking that I was truly hairless from belly button to asshole. He snapped the glove off and again nodded his approval. Then he looked up at me.

"Ms. Anderson," he said, "if you're ready, we'd like to give you an orgasm now."