The Volunteer



Scott was broke; it came down to that. Only November of his freshman year and he'd learned that he couldn't hold to a budget. Terrific - he was that much closer to "knowing himself," but he was still broke. With a heavy class schedule and two part-time jobs, he didn't have any more time to earn money to make up for his proficiency in spending it. As he contemplated his situation over a dorm lunch and a copy of the campus newspaper, Scott noticed a small advertisement:

Healthy male volunteers needed for medical study. Three 2-hour sessions. Pay involved. Call for information and initial screening.

The number given was at the University Medical Center; the ad seemed legitimate enough. "Pay involved"..."Well," he thought, "after all, I'm male and I'm certainly healthy." A strapping six-footer in excellent shape, he'd been on his high school varsity track and swim teams and still worked out regularly at the university gym. He didn't remember having even so much as a cold in the last year. If he gave up a couple of nights of cruising and carousing to keep his workload under control he'd be able to afford six hours to make some bucks. He doubted he could earn much in a medical study, but decided it was worth a call.

"University Medical Center. May I help you?"

"Yes, I'm calling regarding the ad for volunteers."

"Certainly. That's the neurology department. I'll connect you."

A short wait. Then, a friendly male voice.

"Hi! Guinea Pig Central, Tom Perry speaking. So you wanna get rich quick, huh?"

Scott laughed. "Boy, do you ever have my number!"

"Yeah, well, we've been getting a lot of calls since the paper came out today. Money's the major incentive, it seems. Doing something for the good of Science just isn't enough. So, now you're going to ask how much the study pays."

"Right. And you'll answer..."

"Two hundred dollars."

A pause. "Uh-huh. Sure."

"No joke. Two hundred dollars, payable at the end of the third session. We got a healthy grant for this research and we want quality volunteers."

"Hey, I'm quality. But for that much money, what do you want to do to me?"

Tom chuckled. "You sound like you expect us to feed you experimental drugs or cut off your balls or something. Hey, not to worry. It's an invasive procedure but there's absolutely no risk to you. You'll get more information at your screening if you decide to schedule one. Trust me, - uh, what's your name?"

"Scott. Scott Kirson." He decided he liked Tom already. "Are you directly involved with the volunteers?"

"Involved," Tom thought. "Wouldn't that be nice." But he answered, "I'm the research assistant in charge of the study, under Dr. Hamilton's supervision, of course. I'll be putting the guinea pigs through their paces. Why?"

"Because I'm dying to met you," Scott thought. "Just wondered. So how do I set up a screening?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday morning, 10 AM. Scott had reported for his appointment and was filling out forms. Age: 18. Height: 6'. Weight: 160. Hair: Brown. Eyes: Green. Lists of conditions and allergies none of which he had.

"Hi, Scott. I'm Tom Perry. Finished with the forms yet?" Scott looked up to see an enormous grin surrounded by 6'4" of red-headed, blue-eyed, freckle-faced, muscular, corn-fed, farm boy charm, aged about 26, all wrapped up in hospital greens. He couldn't believe his eyes.

"Uh...sure, except for signing the release..."

"...but you want to know what you're getting into first, right?" Scott nodded. Tom folded himself into a chair across from Scott. "We're attempting to use digital recording techniques to record the electrical signals in the brain induced by various stimuli. If we're successful, we'll have a state-of-the-art tool to help us accurately map the neural pathways to all parts of the body. Got it so far?"

"Yeah, I think so. But what kind of stimuli are you talking about here? Is this one of those deals where subjects get electric shocks to..."

Tom threw back his head and laughed. "Actually, we'd thought of that, but we figured we couldn't pay subjects well enough for that. No, we're talking heat, cold and light surface stimulation. We're not going to hurt you, though there may be occasional discomfort. All told, I'll bet you'll find most of your experience very enjoyable. I sure would, but different strokes for different folks, right?" He winked. Scott melted. "I can't tell you any more because it could modify your reactions. You understand."

"Sure." At this point Scott was ready to try anything Tom asked. "So what now?"

"Now we get blood and urine samples and do a quick physical exam on you." Tom led Scott into an examining room and told him to strip to his briefs. Scott thought, "I will if you will," but kept silent and did as he was told. The samples were taken, Scott's temperature, blood pressure and pulse were checked. Then, Tom had him lie down on the examining table where he was attached by electrodes to an electrocardiograph. After the readings were taken, Tom was about to remove the electrodes when he stopped by Scott's feet and drew the back end of his ball-point pen quickly down Scott's soles. Scott instantly yelped and pulled his legs back.

"Hey, relax, Scott," Tom said. "It's only a reflex test."

"Sorry. It's just that I'm really ticklish. I guess I pass that test, huh?"

"Absolutely." Tom made a large check mark on Scott's chart. He disconnected the electrodes. "Heart's fine, too. If you're still interested, sign the release and you're on your way to two hundred big ones. But remember: you have to show up for all three sessions or your data will be worthless and you won't be paid."

"No problem. I hereby donate my body to Science." Scott signed the form and handed it to Tom.

"On behalf of Science, I thank you. Get dressed and set up your appointments with the secretary, OK? Make the first one as soon as you can. We need to get the ball rolling." With another grin he was out the door.

His assistant, Andy Shaffer, was correlating schedules when Tom returned to his office, bursting with the good news. "We got our first live one! Healthy, handsome, hunky and ticklish. And I saw him first, I might add. Looks like this study is going to be a pleasure!" Andy returned his grin.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Thursday afternoon, 2 PM. Tom was leading Scott to the experimental lab. "...and your EKG and blood and urine were excellent, too. You're in great shape. Just remember to lay off any booze or drugs while you're in the study. We test you each time you come in and any traces of anything that could impair your nervous system will disqualify you." They entered the lab.

"I understand, believe me. Now tell me how this works."

"OK. That fellow behind the glass panel with all the equipment is Andy, my assistant. Scott looked over at the compact boyish figure with the dark, curly hair. "He'll be monitoring your EKG and the neural signals as he records them. When I call out codes that represent the stimuli you're receiving over these headsets he'll record them by computer on a parallel track of the digital tape. That way, when we analyze the data, we'll know if similar stimuli produce similar signals in different subjects. That's Phase I of the study, the part that involves you today. Now we better get started. You can disrobe over there - everything off!" Scott stripped, noting Tom's occasional glance from the apparatus he was readying. He wasn't annoyingly vain, but knew from experience that his smooth, well-proportioned body and healthy endowment were assets worth showing - to the right people.

Tom stood by a box-like arrangement about two feet high, heavily padded on the top and side, with two long indentations in the top like giant versions of the grooves in an ashtray. "Come on over here now and kneel in these grooves. Crawl forward until your feet are against the side of the box. Good. Now we'll hook you into place." Andy had entered the room to help Tom. Scott felt his calves and ankles being strapped down firmly into the grooves that held his legs apart. Then thin straps across the balls of his feet were pulled tight, stretching his soles back against the padded side of the box. Tom attached padded cuffs to his wrists while Andy lowered from a ceiling pulley two ropes with hooks that attached to rings in the cuffs. Then Scott's arms were stretched above his head until the weight was almost off his knees. Tom and Andy did the best they could to keep up a professional demeanor and avoid staring at the astonishingly attractive picture of Scott helplessly bound and vulnerable.

"Hey guys, this suddenly reminds me of one of those old mad scientist movies. Are you sure I'm gonna be all right?" EKG leads were attached to Scott's chest and a large helmet was fitted onto his head. From the helmet led a wide cable that ran across the room and through a hole in the wall.

Andy replied, "Relax, Scott. You read the protocol and signed it. We won't do anything other than that. It would invalidate the data. Now I'm going back into the other room to get base readings. Tom'll finish preparing you." As he crossed behind Scott he and Tom exchanged knowing looks and thumbs-up gestures.

Tom came around to face Scott. "Comfy?"

"I guess so, considering. Now what?"

"From this point on, we have to be careful to treat each subject exactly the same. That means you're essentially a lab animal now. I won't be communicating with you until the procedure is complete; I'll be concentrating on the sequence of stimuli. All you have to do is relax and enjoy the ride. If you've got anything to tell me, do it now." His tone was soothing.

"Nope. I'm fine."

"Good. Now I'm going t blindfold you and put these earphones on so you can listen to standardized sounds. This will keep unwanted visual and aural stimuli from mixing in with our data. Have a good time!" And Scott was in blackness, listening to the sound of ocean waves.

Tom put on his headset; Andy's was already on. From behind the glass panel he spoke: "OK, Tom, base readings are fine. Jesus, are you as turned on as I am?"

"At least. Let's go before I shoot in my pants." With that he went to a freezer at the side of the room and removed a small dish of ice cubes. This he put onto a wheeled cart already full of his tools - feathers of various sorts, an assortment of brushes, a bowl of soapy water, a hair dryer and so on - and wheeled the cart over to Scott. Pulling out an ice cube, he said "1A," and began slowly running the ice over Scott's back. The freshman began to twitch. "Damn, that's COLD!...Isn't that enough?...Aw, have a heart, Tom...Omigod, STOP!..." Tom ignored him, moving the ice around to Scott's belly, chest, nipples, neck, armpits and sides, lingering on each sensitive area and calling out a stream of numbers and letters which Andy noted on his computer keyboard. A second ice cube was used on the jerking, protesting subject's groin area, cock and balls, thighs, calves, and finally the soles of his feet. Then Tom put down the ice cube and picked up the hair dryer.

"Listen, Tom, I'm sorry but I think I want to quit. If that's only the beginning...HEY! Well, that's not so bad." Tom was holding the dryer very close to Scott's skin, moving it in small circles, drying off the cold, dripping subject. But he deliberately stayed in each area a little longer after it dried to record the response to heat. Again he called out codes to Andy. As Scott's skin temperature rose, he began sweating and protesting again: "It's too MUCH! Tom, cut it OUT!..." Tom spent the longest on Scott's feet. When they were good and hot he rubbed one foot with an ice cube while heating the other, switching every minute or so. Soon, Scott was near tears.

"Andy, how's he doing?"

"The temperature differential readings are strong and clear. Time for the main event now, I think."

"Okey-doke. Here goes." Tom dried off Scott's currently wet left foot, then put down the dryer and began lightly stroking the temperature-sensitized sole with his fingernail, tracing a line from the ball of the foot to the heel and back. It took a moment for Scott to realize what was happening to him. Then he began to babble: "No, Tom, don't...I told you I was ticklish...Oh, SHIT!...hahaha...Untie me!...hahaha...Forget about the money; I can't...NO!" Tom had switched to the right foot.

"Tom, his neural readings are almost off the scale and he's twitching like a fish on a hook! And, my God, he's got a huge hard-on!"

"Well, now! He's enjoying it. Can I pick 'em or what?! Just think, Andy, if this is really recording and we make it to Phase III we may have ourselves a smash hit! And I'm just getting started. As for our friend here, just keep an eye on the EKG, all right? 6-C." Tom began stroking both soles simultaneously. Scott's entire body stiffened and he howled for release. Then Tom curled his hand into claw shapes and wiggled his fingers quickly all over the surface of Scott's feet. Through all the laughing and gagging, Scott could no longer speak coherently.

"Easy, Tom. Give him a rest. 20 seconds."

"Roger." Tom stopped the maddening sensations. Soon Scott caught his breath, though he was still panting.

"Is that it? Am I done yet? Damn, that was driving me nuts! I..." The sentence ended in a groan. Tom had begun swirling feathers in his armpits; first the left, then the right, then both together. Then the feathers were trailed up and down Scott's sides in an unbroken wiggly line that raised goose bumps in their wake. Scott's helpless giggling increased as the feathers moved to his ass cheeks, then around to his taut belly and down to his groin. A small drop of fluid appeared at the head of his pulsating cock, grew and dribbled in a thin line to the floor. Tom drew the feathers around Scott's nipples until they were erect, then stroked his scrotum with one feather while wiggling the other one just behind it. The tortured laughter had turned to moans of pleasure. "Boy, when you said 'stimuli', you weren't kidding! I'm gonna come soon. This is the greatest...Tom?...Aw, don't stop now! I was almost...SHIT!"

Tom's fingers had launched an all-out attack on his ribs, massaging each in turn, then in various combinations. His subject was bucking and spluttering, trying to avoid the nimble digits, but to no avail. Occasionally an obscenity was recognizable in the midst of the agonized laughter. Now Tom was in high gear. He kept calling out codes and changing his attack on the beautiful, helpless body. He wiggled his fingers in the armpits, then squeezed the muscles behind them. He poked his fingers in the navel and wiggled it until Scott shrieked with laughter. He found sensitive spots in the hips and thighs to squeeze and vibrate, noticing that the freshman's ample, thick cock had become a purple, rock-hard fountain of pre-cum.

"Tom, that's enough. You've covered everything. Give the kid a break!"

"This is too good to lose. I've got an idea. Let's get in some unofficial recordings. We'll keep them separate and Dr. Hamilton will never know. Just keep the tape rolling and buzz Mike's office. Jim and Fred are there, too. Tell them to get down here and be absolutely quiet. Scott's going to get a stimulus he'll never forget!"

The three young medical students arrived within minutes. Andy had told them what was going on, but they were taken off-guard at the sight of the naked, athletically-built volunteer, bound, sweating and laughing hoarsely, gasping for breath and sporting a huge, dripping boner. Tom stopped his devilish work and ran to the newcomers, quickly whispering to them what they were to do. Grins broke out on their faces. If Tom's idea worked, this experiment could have an exciting side-effect! They took their places around Scott, who could by now only occasionally croak, "No more, more..."

And then, at Tom's signal, they began the cumulative attack. Jim dipped two hard-bristled brushes in the soapy water and began to scrub Scott's soles briskly. The limp figure stiffened and began cursing and laughing again. After ten seconds, Mike began light strokes with feathers in Scott's armpits. Ten seconds later, Fred attacked Scott's ribs with both hands, alternating with gently pinching and rubbing his nipples. Finally, Tom began slowly jerking off the until-now neglected cock.

"Tom, he can't take much more! The needles are all over the chart! He's gonna...!

Just then he did. Huge spasms racked the tortured boy and massive gobs of semen shot out in long ropes across the lab floor. Tom, knowing that his victim would be even more ticklish after orgasm, delayed before signaling his cohorts to stop and silently leave. Then he continued occasionally to stroke the cockhead until the spasms stopped.

"I'm out of tape, Tom. And I can't believe it - I shot my load just watching!"

"I believe it - I did, too! Damn! Grab me another pair of scrubs, get in here and help me cut this guy loose. He deserves a shower and a nap, don't you think?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next Tuesday, 2 PM. Scott nervously paced in the waiting room, thinking about his first session. He had never felt such intense sensations before. As much as the tickling had been agonizing in one sense, he couldn't deny that he'd been powerfully aroused. And he thought of how Tom had held his weakened, naked body after the ordeal and helped him to the shower and the hospital bed. He'd slept for an hour before Tom returned to awaken him:

"Scott? How do you feel? Ready to face the outside world again?"

"Yeah, I think so. Um...Tom, what you did to me at the did you, uh, stimulate so many places at once?

Again the grin. "Professional secret. But I gather you enjoyed your little party, just like I said you would."

Scott remembered looking deeply into Tom's eyes. "Yeah, damn it, I did. And you did, too."

Now the grin turned a bit sheepish. "Uh-huh. I was even wondering if you'd want to get together on a ...non-professional basis." It was Scott's turn to grin. $200 - and a redheaded hunk! "But - first we have to get through the rest of the study so I won't be called on the carpet for misconduct. That was, shall we say, special treatment I gave you. I just got carried away. But you've signed an agreement not to talk to anyone about the study procedures so no future subjects would be affected. For my sake, I hope you can keep this to yourself."

"They couldn't tickle it out of me. But if today's only the first session, what happens next?"

"Sorry - I can't tell you." And Tom had hugged him. "See you Tuesday."

Now Tom's entrance brought Scott out of his reverie. After a quick hug, Tom took blood and urine samples and ran a quick physical. Soon they were in the lab; Andy was behind the glass as before. This time Scott remained clothed except for his shirt and shoes. He was put in a chair to which his arms and legs were strapped "to avoid any accidents," according to Tom. The elaborate helmet was again fitted onto his head and the EKG leads were attached to his chest.

"Last time we recorded your body's reaction to various stimuli. Today we want to check the accuracy of the recording. We've edited together various parts of your tape - in a different order from which they were taped - and we're going to play it back directly into your nervous system. We'll be comparing your reactions to the recorded signals against your reactions to the original stimuli. Get it?"

"Oh, Jesus. Yeah, I get it."

"Good. Now I want you to describe to me what you feel as we proceed.



"Here goes. Roll the tape, Andy."

It worked like a charm. For over half an hour Scott re-experienced parts of his ordeal as if they were happening again. Through his laughter and struggles he just managed to describe the changing sensations of cold, heat, sexual stimulation and unbearable tickling on various parts of his body. When it was over, he was drenched in sweat. "But," he complained, "why didn't you let me come this time?"

"We had to edit out your grand finale for purposes of the study. But if everything works out, you'll get to go through it again. And so far everything's going perfectly. Everyone is recognizing his own taped sensations 100%. Phase III will really tell us what we need to know, though. Go get a shower..." He lowered his voice for a moment. "...and jerk off. I'll see you next week - and then lots more after that!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was a week later. After the usual tests, Scott and Tom were once more in the lab. Scott was strapped into the chair as he had been the week before; the helmet and EKG were attached. Andy waited behind the glass. And Tom explained:

"This week, Andy and I compiled a tape of neural signals from all of our subjects. We like to call it our "Greatest Hits" tape." That got the desired laugh from Scott. "The point of Phase III is to see whether one person's reaction to a stimulus will feel the same to another person. If it does, we're on our way to developing a technology that could ultimately help everybody literally feel with and for each other. And though it sound very grand and philosophical for a medical study, this could be a major step toward global understanding and peace. That's why all of us have been so excited about the project."

"It's not the only thing that got you excited, if I remember."

"Touche. Anyway, now you really know what's up. Ready to be among the first to actually get under someone else's skin?"


"OK, Andy, roll the tape."

This time, through the laughing, groans and struggles, Scott described some sensations that were totally new to him. For example, his ears had never been very sensitive, but the feeling of another subject's ears being stroked with a feather almost brought him to climax. He felt what it was like to have nipples that weren't sensitive, to be wildly ticklish in the small of his back, to have very large feet that were being slowly and maddeningly stroked with a quill, to be too muscular for a rib massage to get to him. But most of what he felt matched what his own body would have felt. And the net result, again, was a sweaty exhaustion from extended laughing and sexual tension when the tape was through.

Tom and Andy were jubilant at the result: there was an 80% correlation between Scott's descriptions and the original subjects' sensations. After some rather unprofessional whooping and hollering, Tom asked over the headset: "Andy, what do you think? Plan A?"

"Absolutely! I'll call the guys."

Scott was confused. "Plan A? I thought this was the end of it."

"It was. Plan A is a major celebration. And you're invited because you brought the goodies."

"What are you talking about?

Just then, Andy entered the room with Mike and Jim. He was finishing his instructions. "...then just keep an eye on us until it's over. Fred'll monitor the control room. And don't worry, you'll get your turn later. Now let's party!"

As Scott, still in his chair, looked on, Mike and Jim strapped Tom and Andy into similar chairs and attached similar helmets to their heads. Meanwhile, Andy explained: "We were all so jealous of your Phase I session that we figured out a way to top it. We built a junction box that allows a neural tape to be played back through more than one helmet at a time. And I edited together the hottest parts of your session, including the finale."

"You mean..."

Tom finished the sentence. "...the three of us are going to relive it together! Talk about your simultaneous orgasms! Roll the tape, Fred!"

Moments later, Scott, Andy and Tom were shaking with hysterical laughter.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After they showered and Andy went back to the office, Scott gave Tom a big hug. "I'm not your subject anymore, right?"

"Yep. You can pick up your check from the secretary."

"Uh-huh. But it's also about time I got my hands on you, don't you think?"

"Well, I guess fair is fair." Tom paused for effect. "Tomorrow night OK?"

Scott left the Medical Center a very happy young man.