Participant Incentive

She paced around the small lab room and checked her watch. She checked her phone, and then sighed. Another participant no show. The fifth this week, and with her research deadline looming, she was fast approaching her wit's end at what to do. She sat down at the desk and unlocked her laptop in an indignant huff. Looking at the experiment she had loaded up, her mind filled with a miserable combination of anxiety and despair. She was proud of the experiment. Proud too, to have come up with a research proposal so unexpected yet compelling. Well, compelling for her and the cabal of stuffy academics that made up her supervisors. Not so compelling for anyone on the street who she'd need to actually do the study. In fairness, she had been warned about participant reluctance, and one of her supervisors did stress the need for 'extra incentives' to get volunteers into the lab. Still, the university's collection of fast expiring gift cards hardly seemed an incentive for frankly anyone, let alone the narrow range of twenty year olds she needed for her study.

She spun on the swivel chair and looked up at the fluorescent lighting of the small, windowless room. She reached into her hoodie and brought her phone out. No text or email from her missing participant, though her social media had a topping up of the endless notifications ready for her to ignore. She pulled her contacts up, and scrolled through to see if she had any friends left that she had yet to convince, cajole, or otherwise bully into the lab. There weren't any, and the despair grew in her.

It was here, vacantly staring at her phone, when another notification popped up. A Tinder message from a match she'd been happily chatting to the past few days. He was cute enough, and seemed able to actually hold a conversation like a human being, rather than the walking male genitalia she usually had to deal with. She was about to open the message and respond, but stopped herself upon realising something.

'Participant incentives.' She thought to herself, upon figuring out a rather filthy solution to her recruitment problem.

Ignoring her sweetheart's message, she went into her bio. The charming description of her likes and dislikes, along with a desire to meet people with cute pets was out, replaced only with 'Will suck off anyone that agrees to do my study...' along with directions to the campus. Her new bio published and age range set, she began swiping right on anyone who didn't outright repulse her, hoping to high heaven that the sweet guy she'd been messaging won't check her profile and see the changed bio.

It didn't take long for the responses to start coming in. Normally, she tended to be repelled by men who open with an image of their penis, but she somewhat welcomed it this time, knowing exactly what she would be in for.

"Is this for real? Prove you're not a bot." One asked.

"No bots, no bullshit. I need participants. Do my study, and I'll suck you off." She replied.

"You don't sound too enthusiastic about this." He replied.

"No choice mate, now are you coming or not. How soon can you be here."

"Twenty minutes."

"Good. Come to the Behavioural Science lab, room C-305." She typed back, with a mix of resignation, relief at finally getting volunteers, and a much denied sense of arousal.

That particular back and forth repeated quite a few times during the twenty minutes it took for her first participant to arrive. In between the messages, and reassurances that yes, this was a genuine offer; she busied herself with preparations for her experiment. She also went off to refill her bottle of water and put her hair up in a ponytail.

After sitting and waiting a few minutes, tapping her lengthening nails on the desk, their polish chipped; she heard a knock at the door. Her stomach turned in strange ways as she began to fully process how her afternoon was going to play out. She got up and opened the door. Here was participant number 1. She looked him up and down, and was relieved to see he did in fact look like his picture. In truth he didn't look too bad. He wasn't a student like her, but he still looked quite youthful and altogether a bit shy. Inspecting his rather conservative attire and glasses, she thought he didn't look the type to engage in such lewd encounters as this. He on the other hand, was greeted by a petite, rather desperate looking student in a hoodie.

"Nice to meet you, I'm-"

"No names, please. It makes this all a bit easier." She interrupted. "If you could just take a seat by the computer there, we can get started. Started, and um, finished." She continued, awkwardly.

He complied and sat himself down at the desk. He spied a piece of paper and pen next to the open laptop that marked the participant information sheet and consent form. He chuckled, as if expecting it to mention the post experiment blowjob. He then paused and realised maybe that particular part of the agreement was actually what the study was about. How many men can someone get to do something with the promise of sexual favours. He thought to ask, but that might spoil the magic and decided not to press the subject. Besides, she looked far too nervous for him to think it was all a ruse.

She looked at him from across the room, the mix of emotions still swirling around her. He looked far too kind to be into this sort of thing. He reminded her of the sweetheart she had left on read earlier, and then a feeling of embarrassment washed over her. She was no prude, but this was a bit much even for the more 'open minded' friends she knew.

Or was it? She had to admit as she watched him, she had begun thinking how he would do it. How he would treat her after he fulfilled his end of the bargain. He hadn't led with a picture of his genitalia, and so she wondered at it's size. It's shape. How it might feel wrapping her lips around it. Would it be rough, or gentle? Would she have to swallow, or would he not care she had a paper cup ready to deposit his and everyone else's loads.

The embarrassment dissipated only a little as he went about completing her experiment, coming only from the realisation that this was ultimately going to work. Whatever happened, she was going to get the numbers she needed for her study. Regardless of if she had to suck double digits of dicks to get there, she would get her PhD.

She looked over his shoulder again, seeing that he had finished. Her study was just backing up data now, and he leaned back in the chair, disengaging himself from the experiment. She walked over and handed him a debrief sheet, explaining the true nature of the study and how the recorded data is fully anonymous.

"No one could even prove you were here." She said, trying to lift her spirits with a bit of light hearted small talk.

"Seems so." He replied. "So, I guess this wasn't quite about what I thought it was about." He continued, smiling and with an unshakable glint in his eye.

"I suppose it wasn't." She said, breathing in. "So how do you want to do this?" She continued, tidying up her ponytailed hair.

The man stood to unbutton his trousers. She could already see the bulge of the thing from under them, and quietly gasped under her breath as he slid his erect penis out in front of her. It was suitably meaty, pulsating and throbbing to what she assumed was the man's accelerated heartbeat. A dirty kind of arousal was starting to build in her, though she didn't consciously recognise it then. She stepped forward toward it, and took it in her hand.

"Ok, standing up it is then." She said, her heart now racing as she went onto her knees.

She drew herself closer to his groin, opting to take a bit of the transactional nature out of the act and stroke her own cheeks with his penis in an attempt to at least make it look like she was into it. He appreciated the gesture nonetheless, his breath deepening at the sensation of the smooth head sliding across her warm cheek. As she moved him toward her mouth, she put her tongue out, licking the tip and tasting a hint of precum amongst the generally inoffensive fleshy taste of the thing. Assured that she wouldn't gag at the smell or taste of this stranger's penis, her mouth opened and she took it inside her.

His breathing deepened again as she moved her tongue around the head, running circles around the head of his penis and occasionally laying it flat to massage his frenulum. More comfortable with a cock in her mouth, she began moving her head. Slowly at first, but upon realising this was the first of many for the afternoon, quickly picked up a feisty pace. She moved her hand up and down his shaft, pumping his cock to the rhythm of her head movements. He looked down at her as she worked on him, taking in the pleasantly enveloping warmth she was giving. He focused on her movements, particularly how her ponytail bounced and flapped around in response to her momentum, and how she would occasionally take a hand to fix her glasses that would slowly move down her face.

As the signs of his increasing enjoyment became more apparent to her, him going from heavy breathing to deep moans; she found that taboo arousal had risen to a point where she couldn't help but notice it. The feelings of shame had dimmed, overpowered by a pleasure building up in her, driven through the enjoyment she was giving him. She felt herself flushed under her hoodie, and the region between her legs had begun to throb excitedly while on her knees. She felt her erect nipples pressing into the bra under her clothes, and squirmed awkwardly while on her knees in an attempt to dissipate or otherwise neutralise the arousal in her without him noticing. Her mouth now slid all the way down the length of his shaft, his head tickling the back of her mouth. Luckily the past half decade of student life, of frequent drinking and dealing with its aftermath, had quietened her gag reflex and so she wasn't bothered by his above average length going a bit deeper than usual.

He had noticed the uptick in enthusiasm, and his body was responding with the delightful build up of sensation as it prepared for orgasm. She had abandoned using her hands, instead they were firmly planted on the ground as she ferociously glided her mouth up and down him. He could she her back arching up from under her baggy hoodie, and noticed she had a bounce about her as she drew him closer to the edge with her mouth and tongue. He could feel the layering of sensation escalating in his penis as if it got harder and harder as he approached climax. His knees were beginning to feel weak and tremble slightly at the intensity of it all, and opted to rock back slightly into a more stable stand. She knew this was usually a sign a man was close, and so upped her game. She drew her mouth up to the head of his cock and put her hands back on his shaft. her hand slid up and down him, aided by the saliva her mouth had left all over him, while her tongue joyously wrapped around the head and playfully flicked at his urethra. She was now enjoying herself, much to her own surprise and amusement. There was something so pleasingly dirty about the whole arrangement. Like flattery but stronger, she delighted in how desired she was in this moment. To have these men lined up, ready and waiting to receive what she was giving them.

She could feel his cock firm up, and his moaning had become more vocal as the build up in him became too much and he exploded in her mouth. His semen first spurted out across the inside of her mouth before pooling on her tongue. He thrusted himself deeply, yet gently in her mouth and throat as he came, his movements in time with the contractions of his orgasm. After a moment, he slid his softening penis out of her mouth, saliva and semen dripping off the head and down onto the floor. She opted not to swallow, and spat what remained of him in her mouth into the paper cup next to her on the floor.

He was still breathing deeply as he was zipping himself up. She however, did not return to normality so quickly. Still on her knees, she attempted to process the what had just happened. The enjoyment and arousal had ebbed somewhat, but had left an underlying frustration in her. Her mind found itself in the awkward space between wanting her latent desires fulfilled, but knowing such gratification must be delayed.

She stood up and attempted to brush off her feelings and focus on her work. The man was still here, and she could see the confused expression on his face, as if he needed her to dismiss him.

"So, that's it. You can take your debrief sheet and leave." She said.

"Of course. I'll leave you to it." He replied.

"Thank you. And thank you for your participation." She said officially, hoping her professional tone might smooth over the awkwardness of the situation.

With number 1 now gone, she had time to check her phone. She was glad to see he hadn't lasted long and so had a few minutes more than she thought before the next participant arrived. He seemed nice, if a bit boring. That said, with the quantities she needed to get through this afternoon, she wouldn't mind if they were all as boring as him. She reached for her bottle of water, attempting to flush out any nascent taste or feeling of the man who just came in her.

She waited around a bit for participant number 2, having had plenty of time to reset the experiment and prepare herself for his arrival. Though the thought did cross her mind, she hadn't done anything to alleviate the lingering feelings of arousal in her. She assumed to do something about it would take her out of the mood, and there were still so many to get through today. The door knocked for the second time that day, and she got up to answer it.

While she knew all participants were in their twenties, participant number two looked suitably older than her or the previous man. He was a stout, wide man who she figured might not look out of place working in construction. She didn't remember swiping right on him, but there were quite a few and didn't sweat not remembering a face. She led him in and sat him down at the table, and waited for him to start the experiment.

She watched him, like she did the other, and again began contemplating how it would all play out when he finished the experiment. He didn't seem talkative at all, and for sure was not the type she would go for. He seemed muscular in a way one doesn't get from the gym, but from manual labour. He seemed to power through the experiment rather quickly, and she had a distressing thought that he might be trying to rush the whole affair and leave her data invalid.

"Hi, do take your time and respond fully and naturally. Otherwise the results would be invalid." She said.

From over his shoulder, she heard a grunting, mumbling response and she saw he slowed down his answering. A little while passed and she saw he had finished, and it would soon be time for her to keep to her end of the deal. She took a drink of water and walked over to him. She had yet to give him the debrief sheet when he had spun around in the chair, grin on his face, and cock already poking out from trousers slightly pulled down.

"Ah. I see you are already, ready." She said in response to his wordless actions, and she got on her knees.

Much like his own physique, man number 2 had a slightly stouter, yet vastly girthier penis than the previous one she had. She drew herself toward it, and already she caught a whiff of that familiar masculine scent of male genitalia. A scent only amplified when she rounded her tongue across the head of it and got to work. The man immediately shifted into a more comfortable position on the chair, a position that pushed his meaty chode further up into her mouth. She moved her mouth up and down him, her tongue sliding wetly along his penis as she drew it in and out of her mouth. She could fit all of him inside mouth quite comfortably, and so opted to use her hands to cradle his balls. He appreciated that and sunk even lower in the chair in a slump of pleasure. He was more vocal than last, communicating his enjoyment with a series of lewd grunts. Grunts that became louder as he put a hand under his top and began teasing one of his nipples.

As she worked on him, that feeling of filthy arousal returned, though changed somewhat. The feeling of subservience, of being put in the taboo position of having to provide for all these men she had lined up. Her mind swam in this heady mix of feelings, of the submission she had put herself in, how even the transactional nature of it all only drove it to be more arousing. She felt hot under her hoodie and could again feel her erect nipples pressing up against her bra. She felt the warmth between her legs too, soaking in the pleasantly aching feeling building there.

She upped her pace, sloppily moving up and down him in a frenzied mess of flesh and saliva. She felt him hardening up in her mouth and she bared down on his penis as he climaxed, taking him just to the back of her throat as he came. Almost by reflex she swallowed his load as he moaned and grunted pleasingly to himself. She let her tongue linger and run up his shaft as she took him out of her mouth and stood up.

The man wasted no time getting up and going to leave, now that he had got what he wanted, to be serviced by a pretty, young, girl. He was halfway out the door before she realised he hadn't taken his debrief sheet with him. She thought to chase after him, but decided it wasn't worth it considering the kind of message it might send.

The second man now gone, she paced around the room, checking her phone for the whereabouts of her next participant. She felt hot, and was unable to escape her own heightened arousal. Rationally, she knew it wasn't because she was especially attracted to any of the men she had seen, or was about to see, but the nature of performing the act. No matter how gallant an attempt she made in trying to disengage with it, she could not resist getting caught up in the sexual energy of it all. She reasoned it was unavoidable, but that didn't help her dispel any of it as she walked up and down the room, fanning herself with the debrief sheet to cool her flushed face.

Over the next 90 minutes, she experienced nothing less than a form of masochistic torture as she went through the litany of men coming, cumming, and going. Though she eventually lost count, she did notice patterns between the host of men she had in her mouth. How some would draw out the feelings of taboo transaction in her as she serviced them, while in others she became more drawn to being desired and wishing to please. After the first few, she stopped spitting their loads into the cup she had, opting instead to draw them closer as they climaxed and taking it all in a single lustful swallow. Her own feelings went through a pattern too. The build-up from wondering how it would go, followed by climb of desire as she worked on them, which then peaked in a kind of vicarious phantom orgasm when they did. Arousal peaking for her, but never being fulfilled. She would then calm down somewhat, just in time for someone else to come in and repeat the cycle. A cycle that raised her baseline arousal each time, it becoming more and more difficult to resist wanking herself silly. She thought she almost would when one man opted to finish all over her face and glasses, her mind so changed by her desire that she welcomed being objectified in such a way. She didn't though, instead wanting to desperately keep her composure as a reminder of what this was all for. This wasn't to have fun, but to get her work done, she kept telling herself with every swallowed load.

She heard a knock at the door, and finally the last man was here. As she let him in, he almost attempted to push past as if moving quickly now might make up for his lateness.

"Sorry about the time. Go on then, lets get started." He said, his hands on his fly before she even had the time to close the door behind him.