The Psychology of Stripping

This story was first published (elsewhere) in October 2010. All characters are 18 or older.

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You might be quite surprised to discover what goes on in the Psychology Department at your local university. I certainly was during my undergraduate degree. I had always wanted to be in a job helping people, and the ideal for me was to become a therapist, sitting in a comfortable chair talking with people. It always seemed the perfect job. So when I started university, I kind of thought it would all be classes on learning how to analyse people's thoughts and make astute and insightful comments. It hadn't occurred to me that I would have to learn about all the other things that psychologists do, especially the research side of things, and never in a million years would I have predicted it would lead to some very embarrassing situations.

Psychology is an academic discipline, and as such it has a very scientific side to it. Psychologists are involved in a huge variety of research projects about every aspect of behaviours, thoughts, and perceptions. One of the main things that many of the students struggled with was all the scientific methodology and lab reports and stuff like that. That had never been one of my strengths in high school, and plenty of my classmates were the same. The worst of it was the statistics. One compulsory paper in particular involved trying to learn extremely complex statistical analysis, and there were plenty of us who appeared certain to fail it.

As undergraduates, you are often hearing bits and pieces about some of the research being done in the department by staff or graduate students. One rumour in particular was flying around, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore. The rumour was that one of the PhD students, Jack, was prepared to provide tutoring in statistics (or as some rumours went, was practically doing stats projects for students) in exchange for being a participant in his research.

The rumours about Jack's actual research were very vague, but most hinted at something of a sexual nature. His research had apparently required ethics approval from the very highest level, and had very high levels of confidentiality built into it. It was hard not to be a little bit sceptical. Recruiting participants by offering to do their course work is pretty ethically dodgy. Still, it wasn't like I was likely to complain. My whole career seemed to depend on getting help with my stats project. My only question was what would I have to do in return? Would I be prepared to go through with it? I didn't know the answer to this question, but I figured there was no harm in making some inquiries.

Jack had a small untidy office on the ground floor. The door was hanging open, and he was making no effort to disguise the fact he was playing on a Playstation. Jack looked a few years older than me, about 25, and he had the casual clothes and unkempt look of a grad student, although thankfully he seemed hygienic enough. His office didn't smell like some I have been in.

I nervously knocked on the open door and said I had heard he was recruiting for a research project. At this he immediately stopped his game and jumped up to welcome me in. He seemed very pleased to see me, and it didn't seem to be just because I'm not bad looking. In fact, I'm aware that I'm quite good looking when I make the effort. I've got a good figure, nice face, and long brown hair. However, like a lot of female students, I dress down for university to avoid unwelcome attention. I was wearing loose casual clothing and I had my hair pulled back in a simple ponytail.

No, Jack was delighted to see me for plenty of other reasons. He invited me to have a seat and then started talking non-stop. As he talked about his work, I began to understand his situation. Jack was a third year PhD student, and the research was his thesis project. He explained that he had invested a lot of time and energy into his research, but he was starting to lose hope that he would ever get his fieldwork completed. He said that because of the nature of the fieldwork, he was always struggling to find willing participants.

I was dying to know what his research was about, so as soon as I could get a word in I asked.

"That's not an easy question to answer," he answered. "You have to understand that the ethics agreement on my project is very restrictive. Before I can even tell you specifics of what we're researching, I'm obliged to get you to sign a confidentiality agreement. So before I do that, can I ask you why you are interested?"

I blushed slightly. "To be honest, I'm only here because I heard you help people to pass their statistics projects. I'm really struggling with it."

Jack wasn't pleased with this answer. "Crap," he said, "there doesn't seem any way to keep people from talking. So, what have you heard about the project?"

I blushed again, more deeply this time. "Nothing much. Someone mentioned it might be, you know, a bit sexual."

"Does that worry you?"

"Well, yes! A lot! But so much depends on passing this stats paper. I don't know what else to do."

"I understand," said Jack, "because our situations are so similar. If I don't find enough subjects for my fieldwork, then the last three years will have been for nothing. I'm desperate too. You see, even though I've got a corporate sponsor for my research, the university lawyers have told me I'm not allowed to pay my participants anything. Because of the nature of the research, they say it's technically illegal for any payment to change hands. I got into the whole stats tutoring thing pretty much by accident. It's dodgy, and I'd get in trouble if word got out, but I see it as just students helping each other out. So officially, the two things are unconnected. Students help me with my research, and it so happens that I give generously of my time to help others. I guess the question I should ask is - have you heard any complaints out there from people who thought they should receive help from me but haven't?"

"No."

"Then hopefully we have an understanding."

I nodded.

"So," said Jack. "Do you want me to tell you about my research?"

I nodded again.

The confidentiality agreement he spoke of was short and simple. By receiving information about the research, I was still free to decide whether or not to participate. However, whatever I decided, I promised not to reveal any details of the project to any other person. The purpose of this was to provide an extra safeguard to protect the dignity and reputation of any past or future participants. It seemed over the top, but you get a lot of these types of rules imposed by ethics committees. I signed.

Jack then unlocked a filing cabinet and got out his information sheet. However, before he handed it over he hesitated.

"Please read it with an open mind. At this point I frequently get called a pervert or worse. Try to remember that this is genuine academic research, and that the last three years of my life as well as my future career depend on this."

I promise to give him a fair chance, and he handed me the information which I immediately noted was titled "Nudity and the Arousal Responses of Men and Women". Heavens!

Rather than reproducing the full text here, I will summarise it for you. The purpose of the research was to measure and analyse the behavioural and physiological responses of male and female subjects in situations where they were "naked and displayed in the presence of another person". I could see why Jack got negative reactions. He was basically looking for people to take their clothes off. Still, my promise to be open-minded and the dream of passing my stats paper were enough to keep me from walking straight out the door.

I read further down to what was expected of participants. Firstly, all participants were required to participate in an in-depth interview, which would include questions about their sexual experiences and attitudes. This in itself was enough to freak me out, but the second part of the field work was far worse.

The practical part of the research would take place in one of the department's observation suites (two adjoining rooms separated by a one-way mirror). Access would be restricted to four participants: Participant A, Participant B, the Experimenter (Jack), and a female chaperone. Participant A was to remove all their clothes on the instructions of Participant B, and would follow all instructions regarding posing and displaying themselves. At no point was any person permitted to touch Participant A.

As I read this, my immediate thought was obviously to ask to be Participant B. However, this hope was soon dashed by the following paragraph which stated that the project was only recruiting for the role of Participant A. Due to the high anticipated demand to be Participant B, and in the interests of fairness, only people who had already been involved as Participant A would be recruited to return in the B role.

As the disappointment sunk in, I had to start thinking seriously about the consequence of this. I would be expected to shamelessly expose myself to three other people. Jack and some woman would be in the next room watching through the one-way mirror, while some other person would be there, in the same room, ordering me to take off my clothes and show myself in the most intimate way. Who would be this Participant B? I read on.

According to the information sheet, the gender of Participant B would be determined by random probability. In other words, there was a 50 percent chance that they would be a man, and a 50 percent chance they would be a woman. Reading on, I discovered that the clothing of Participant B would also be determined randomly. They would either be fully clothed, or they would be dressed in their underwear. I couldn't work out which would be worse. Either way the concept was mortifying.

My horror grew as I read the section on data collection. The experiment would be recorded by a standard video camera as well as an infrared camera, although it did say that the video software had face recognition with automatic pixilation, so it would be impossible to make out my face in any of the video recordings. There would also be a monitor connected to my skin to record physiological data. My reactions to the ordeal would be recorded and analysed in great detail.

The information sheet contained a great deal of additional information including all the usual stuff about complaints procedures, and a huge number of indemnity clauses including a section confirming that there would be no payment whatsoever, and that the university "would not be liable for any accusations of being party to the solicitation or supply of sexual services for payment!"

Jack sat silently and waited for me to finish my reading. He undoubtedly received plenty of refusals, so he was quite careful not to scare me away. He reassured me that it was entirely my own decision, and I could have as long as I liked to think about it. However, he then mentioned that he knew my stats project was due soon, and coyly mentioned that he might have time to help me in a few days time if his busy recruiting schedule had some success. He then suggested we make an appointment to do his research interview the following morning. If I turned up, great! If I didn't, he would understand. Suddenly I found myself with one night to make an incredible difficult decision.

That evening I attempted to rationally work out what my decision would be, but whenever I tried to picture myself going through with it, I couldn't really cope with the idea. My imagination kept on shutting down that train of thought. So what I did instead was throw myself into my statistics project. I figured that if I could just make enough progress, there would be no need to even consider the alternative. However, the work just seemed to get more and more complicated and I got more and more frustrated and upset. I eventually went to bed in tears without making a definite conscious decision, but at the same time knowing I would be keeping my appointment with Jack the following morning.

Nothing had changed when I woke up the following morning. My heart was heavy and my stomach was churning while my brain just tried to ignore the situation I was facing. I made no special effort to make myself look nice before heading out to the university, but this did nothing to diminish Jack's obvious delight to see me. I did have some sympathy for his situation, although mostly I figured he only had himself to blame for his difficulties. It helped that he was polite, respectful and very, very grateful.

I won't describe the interview in detail, other than to say it was very personal. Jack was surprisingly sensitive, but still I started blushing right at the beginning and was still blushing well after it was all over.

So what did Jack learn? As far as sexual experience goes, there wasn't a great deal to tell. None of my relationships have lasted very long, usually ended by me. Five guys have touched my breasts, and three of them have gotten to third base, reaching inside my pants or up my skirt and putting their fingers in me. Those three all received handjobs, but none of them ever seemed interested in attending to my satisfaction. All had tried to pressure me to go further, but in the end none of them deserved anything more than they got.

So my attitudes towards sex? To be honest, I've become a bit cynical and bitter, but not completely. I believe in true love and I believe in good sex. My experiences so far have been with immature and egotistical guys. I'm trying to be patient while the guys around me grow up a bit more.

As I answered question after question about my most personal experiences, my brain was still in denial about what was going on. It was like I was trying to imagine that it wasn't really happening, and I was living in a world where the problem of my stats paper just went away. So when the interview was finally over and Jack told me that he could arrange to get the rest of my involvement out of the way the following evening, I almost agreed without any further thought. However, there was no ignoring the intrusion of reality, and I found myself in a sudden panic. I started grasping for the first bit of information that might help me decide.

"Will participant B be a man or a woman?"

"I'm sorry," replied Jack, "but I can't tell you. It would bias the results if I told people beforehand. Anyway, I don't actually know. Ruth takes care of recruiting the other participants."

"Who's Ruth?"

"Oh, Ruth's my research assistant and also my girlfriend. She also does the chaperoning, so you'll meet her tomorrow night."

"If I come."

"Yes, if you come. You don't have to make the decision now, but I do need you to decide without any further information about who else will be there. You need to be either in or out. I really hope to see you tomorrow night."

Of course, if I turned up he would be seeing more of me than I could contemplate. I carefully scrutinised his face to see if he intended the double entendre, but his face appeared totally sincere. On an impulse, I committed.

"See you then."

A night of fitful sleep was followed by a day of classes where I struggled to concentrate on my work. Again, I was still in a sort of denial, even though I was now active in my preparations. It was a bit like how you get ready to go to the dentist. You actively prepare, making sure you brush your teeth and taking precautions against bad breath, all the while trying not to think about the coming pain, motivating yourself with thoughts about how good everything will be once it's all over. After my last class I went home to prepare myself for the evening.

Take a moment to think about what you would do if you were in the same situation. Maybe you quickly came up with a good plan, but I hope you will understand that it wasn't easy to think clearly. Obviously shaving my legs and underarms was high on my list. Just in case you were wondering, I gave my pussy hair a quick trim and tidy up around the edges, but I certainly had no intention of doing anything more drastic than that.

Then I turned my attention to what I would wear, pulling clothes out of the wardrobe and drawers and throwing them on my bed, trying to figure out the right combination to wear. It was a bit like getting ready for an important date, but in several ways it was completely different. In fact, it was a bit more like getting ready for a job interview. It was all about creating exactly the right impression.

To be honest, in my confused state of mind it was more like I was getting ready for a game of strip poker. I'll explain. I realised that without any conscious thought I was selecting lots of clothes that would go together in layers. I had chosen a bra AND a camisole AND a blouse and I was working on at least two more layers on top of that. For my bottom half I had already planned some leggings as well as a skirt over top of my panties. It was like I was subconsciously relying on lots of clothes to protect me from being exposed.

I eventually came to my senses. Wearing lots of clothes would only prolong the ordeal. There was no avoiding the fact I was expected to strip naked. The fewer clothes there were to remove, the quicker it would all be over. I resolved to wear bra and panties, a button up blouse, a knee-length skirt, an overcoat, and simple shoes that could be slipped on and off without having to bend over. For my underwear I chose a simple set of blue bra and panties. I wasn't intending to wear anything overly skimpy or sexy - they didn't deserve to see that - but I didn't intend to embarrass myself with large granny-style underwear either. I wanted to look good for myself, but I didn't see why I should make any effort for their pleasure!

It had been arranged for me to meet Jack and Ruth at a side entrance to the Psychology Building as the building was locked at night. I was very surprised when I met Ruth. She was a short woman of a similar age to Jack, and she was wearing a very prim and modest dress, and when she spoke she did so in a very ladylike manner. She didn't seem at all the sort of woman who would be associated with Jack or his perverted research.

After the introductions were completed, Jack opened the door and invited me inside.

"What about the other person we're expecting?" I asked.

It was Ruth who replied. "We need to get set up first, so we asked him to come later."

HIM!! Immediately my heart started pounding and my legs started to wobble. The other participant was going to be a male. It had always been slightly reassuring that there had been a fifty percent chance it would have been a woman instead. It would still have been embarrassing, but I still would have preferred it. But now even that hope had been taken away. I stopped walking as I felt myself starting to panic.

Ruth started trying to gently reassure me. "Don't worry about it, dear. Come along into the lab and I'll make you a drink, and I'm sure you'll feel better in a few minutes. Out of all the people we've had through the project, Ian is probably one of the sweetest boys I've met."

As she gently guided me along the corridor, she started talking a bit more about herself to take my mind off my situation. She told me that she had just finished a Masters degree in statistics and was now working 9 to 5 for a government department while supporting Jack with his PhD. Despite my situation I found myself grinning to myself as I listened, thinking about what a lucky bastard Jack was. It was obvious now that my statistics project would be done by Ruth, not Jack. We had now reached the observation suite and Ruth was making some coffee while Jack started setting up his equipment, and I was already starting to feel a little bit better.