sexamination.

“Janet?”

“Yes?”

“We’re ready for you.”

I came across the online ad for a scientific study that was “sexual in nature”.  Compensation ranged from $200-$400.  I was perusing the classifieds, looking for work at the time, so it sounded appealing.  I’ve always been very open about my sexuality, and immediately felt excited about exploring it further.  I phoned to inquire, and the woman on the phone seemed professional and friendly.  She described a series of tests that involved testing sexual limits over the period of an hour or so, and assured me that while some of it might be slightly uncomfortable for a short time, as is the nature of pushing one’s boundaries, that generally candidates have an overall pleasant experience.     

The receptionist leads me down a white hallway, to a sterile looking room, much like a large doctor’s office.  There is a metal reclining table at it’s centre, covered with the paper you might find on a hospital bed while getting an exam.  The bulbous head of a movable dental light comes down from the ceiling but remains dark, and a small side table has been recently disinfected.  There is a row of three chairs along the periphery.    

“Please remove your clothing, and place it on this chair,” she states, though warmly.  “You may cover up with this, if you wish,” she continues, handing me a cotton medical gown.  The woman retreats to a cabinet on the wall, places latex gloves on her hands, then arranges several metal tools on a lined tray.  I can barely see around her, as she is facing away from me, but I catch a familiar glimpse of a speculum.  I slowly begin to remove my clothing as she speaks.

“Now, as I relayed to you on the phone, the idea is to test limits.  That said, we will do everything to make you comfortable as possible, as these limits often require the candidate to relax.  I know it might be difficult considering the environment, but just try to imagine yourself in a comfortable place.”  She turns, with the array of instruments displayed before her.  Most, I don’t recognize, and I don’t want to stare.  I see their metal catch the light out of the corner of my eye.  Some of them look quite large upon a small glance.  I’ve opted out of the gown, placing it on the table behind me, so I stand there completely naked.  “Please, sit,” she says, gesturing to the table.  “Make yourself comfortable.  I’ll need to do a couple preliminary tests for my supervisor.”

She breathes on the stethoscope before listening to my heart, but it remains a little cold.  She takes my blood pressure, inspects my skin, and peers into my mouth with a flashlight.  She records everything on a clipboard.  It seems just like a doctor’s physical exam, when she touches my breasts.  She could be searching for lumps like my GP does, but it feels very different.  As she takes them into her hands, her thumbs graze the nipples, making them stand straight out.  She nods, recording something on her clipboard.  I try to see what she has written, but she places it back down behind her.  I readjust on the table, the paper making a crinkling sound beneath my bare ass.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions, if that's alright."

"Sure," I nod.  

"These may seem personal in nature, but I assure you they will be kept confidential, and we encourage to answer them as honestly and openly as possible."  At this, she looks up at me from her clipboard.

 "Yep.  No problem."

"Great.  You consider your orientation to be straight, I believe?" 

"Yes."

"Alright," she says scanning for the proper page.  "Please answer a simple yes or no to the following.  Have you ever had sex, in the traditional sense?"

"Yes," I smile.

"Sorry, we have to start at the beginning," she smiles back.  "How many times would you say.  Between 1-5 times, 5-25, or 25 plus times?"

"25 plus."

"Have you ever performed oral sex on a man?"

"Yes."
"Again, between 1-5 times, 5-25, or 25 plus times?"
"25 plus, definitely."  She smiles.

"Alright.  Had anal sex?"

"Yes," I say after a pause.  I feel myself blush.

"How many times, would you say?  Between 1-5 times, 5-25, or 25 plus times?"

"Uh... Between 5 and 25?"

"Alright, thank you," she says, making a note.  She turns the page.  "Have you ever had an orgasm?"

"Yes," I chuckle.  She smiles.

"Again, starting at the beginning.  Have you ever had an orgasm via manual stimulation?"

"Yes."

"Via oral stimulation?"

"Yes."

"Via vagina penetration, with or without manual stimulation?"

"Yes."

"With a vibrator?"

"Yes."  

"During anal stimulation, with or without vaginal stimulation?"

"Uh... yes."

"During anal sex?"

"No."  She writes something down.  

"If you'll lie down for me," she says, smiling.

I half expect her to put my feet in the stirrups, but she only puts the palm of her hand on my mons, and applies a small amount of pressure.  At this, my clitoris seems to come alive.  She moves her hand slightly around in a circle, pressing firmly now on my mound.  I find myself pressing back; almost thrusting towards her hand.  She does this for a minute or so, and the pleasure she is giving me is unmistakable.  I look forward the next step of the test, but she abruptly stops, momentarily presses a gloved finger between my lips near my opening, then withdraws.  She observes the wetness accumulated on her fingers by gently rubbing her forefinger and thumb together, then jots something down on her clipboard.  "Great," she says, snapping her latex gloves off. 

 "I'll fetch my supervisor, and we'll get started."