The Temptation Study

Thanks to everyone who gave positive and constructive feedback on my first story, the warm reception was a big motivation for writing this one. Sorry that writing another story took so long, I've got a few outline concepts in draft but it was a while before I had a hook I felt was good enough to really pull me into fleshing everything out.

This is the first part of a three part story. This story is quite long and a bit of a slow build, though I've aimed to keep a decent pace of erotic action along the way, even if it's a while before the real fireworks start. Still, if you're looking for just a couple of paragraphs of intro before the sex all kicks off, this probably isn't for you.

***

Jon tapped his credit card against the reader, waiting for the confirmatory beep as the transaction went through.

"Ok, that's breakfast sorted," he said, putting his card back in his wallet, "Let's go out and explore. Anything you're particularly keen to see today? I'm assuming you've got loads of things from the guidebooks you've been reading."

"I dunno, Dad," his 19-year-old daughter Emma replied. "Given it's out of season it seems like a lot of places are still closed or only open reduced hours. There's an art museum around the corner from here but I don't think it opens until midday. Most things are shut until tomorrow."

"Well, we can always have a wander around and see what we find," Jon replied. Generally, he'd admit that February wasn't the best time for a city break, but he'd had a bit of time free up at work after the project he was working on got cancelled, and his daughter had a gap in her studies at university. Plus, the flights were incredibly cheap.

Mostly Jon was just happy to be spending time with his daughter. His wife had passed away due to illness around ten years ago, and between his job and being a single parent he'd found it was more than enough to keep his hands full. However, since Emma had started at university he'd felt at a bit of a loss as to what to do with himself once he got home from work, and the loneliness had started to bite. As much as he wouldn't have thought it when she was a moody and messy teenager a few years ago, now she was out of his hair he missed having her around the house.

They spent an hour or so wandering around the old town, admiring the character of the narrow twisting streets and the old stone buildings. They were just about to find a café to stop for a coffee when they were approached by a smartly dressed young man with a clipboard.

"Excuse me, sir, could you spare a minute of your time?" he asked.

"Sorry," replied Jon, not even breaking his stride, "I already give to enough charities."

"Oh no sir," continued the man, now walking alongside to match Jon's pace. "I'm not from a charity, I'm looking for participants for a scientific study and the two of you match the profile we're looking for."

"A study about what?" Jon stopped. "What profile do we fit?"

"I'm really sorry," said the man, "but I can't disclose the purpose of the study or what we look for, as it may bias the results. But if you agree to take part you will be compensated for your time."

"Aren't you biasing it anyway?" chimed Emma. "Surely only a certain sort of person agrees to a study without knowing anything about it?"

"All we ask is that you come to our research office and watch two videos while under observation. The videos are each around 25 minutes long, and we expect that the study will take around one hour. You will both receive €200 each for your time."

"€200 each?" asked Jon, suspiciously. "Just for watching a couple of videos?"

"Well, as your daughter insightfully pointed out, we don't want to bias our incoming participants. Those funding our study have ensured we can pay a substantial enough fee for participation that we don't limit ourselves to only those who are most desperate for money or put little value on their time. If you wish to continue to participate in the study, we also offer two follow-up sessions on subsequent days which allow us to extend our research and offer €400 each."

"What do you think Dad," asked Emma. "This seems like a pretty good deal..."

Jon still wasn't fully convinced by the man and his cold approach on the street. "What exactly are you observing? You're just watching us watch videos? And what sort of videos?"

"We will attach some basic wristband sensors to monitor a few key biometrics such as heart rate, perspiration and blood oxygen levels. I can't provide any comment as to the content of the videos, or, as I said, I may bias who chooses to take part. You would be free to leave at any time during the study, though obviously you would forfeit your cash incentive by doing so."

"Come on Dad..." said Emma, tugging her father's arm. "It's just an hour, and we've got time to kill. How bad can it be? We could have a great weekend with that sort of money."

"Fine," said Jon, "But if this is some Clockwork Orange type setup then we're leaving, OK?"

The man with the clipboard led them down a side street away from the main square to a small doorway between two restaurants. The man opened the door and led them up the staircase into an empty waiting room. The interior felt like a small medical practice.

"Please take a seat and wait here for a minute, I just need to get some paperwork for you to sign and then we can get started." The man with the clipboard motioned to some chairs beside a table before walking off down a corridor leading further into the building.

"I'm not sure about this Emma," whispered Jon after the man with the clipboard had disappeared through a door.

"Oh, come on Dad, don't be such a downer." Emma retorted scornfully. "All we have to do is watch a movie, and we can dine out at fancy restaurants for the rest of the holiday on what they're going to pay us."

"It just seems a bit suspicious to me... I think this might be a scam."

"How? They're not asking us to hand anything over, we could walk out right now if we wanted and they wouldn't even know our names. Besides, this is totally normal. There are adverts for these sorts of studies all the time at university for students who want to make a bit of extra cash."

"And is that cash usually €200 an hour?"

"Well, no, but some of them don't pay that far off. Plus, they're not usually trying to pull random people off the street to take time out of their day."

"I guess, but still..." Jon cut himself off as the door down the corridor opened and the man reappeared holding a stack of papers.

He put them down on the table and started to explain the contents. They were all pretty standard forms - Jon and Emma agreed to take part in the study, they had to give their names and ages, confirm neither of them had any serious health conditions, and disclose any medication they were taking. It stated that their identities would be anonymised for processing data and their full names, or any other identifying information, would not be revealed in any publications that may be released to the public once the study was complete. They were not allowed to disclose the methodology or discuss any details to anyone not directly related to the study.

Jon paused over that line. "So, if the police ask us about this, we can't say anything or you'll sue us?"

"If you were required to give details as part of an investigation by a law enforcement agency, then that would obviously be exempt from the non-disclosure clause. We can't make you hide things from the police. But I ensure you that everything we are doing here is fully within the law, and your participation is based entirely on your continued consent. There is no requirement for you to do anything which you do not wish to do, and as I said outside you are free to leave at any point you like." He placed his finger on the relevant clause within the document.

"It says if we leave we'll forfeit the session payment and any accrued bonus payments. What bonus payments?" asked Emma.

"Ah, they're not relevant for today. Bonus payments may form part of subsequent phases of the study as we assess psychological motivations. But we don't use them during the first session."

They finished going through the paperwork and both Jon and Emma signed their agreement at the bottom.

The man led them down the corridor, opened a door and gestured for the two of them to go through. It led into a small plain-looking room containing a sofa opposite a large flat screen television on the wall. In the middle of the room was a coffee table with a large jug of ice water, two glasses, a bottle of hand sanitizer and a box of tissues. Two wristbands also lay on the table.

"Please both sit down on the sofa and attach the wristbands to your wrist. These are simple devices that track some of physiological responses such as heart rate and provide us with the data. The bands do not need to be tight, but they do need to be secure to ensure a reliable reading."

"There is a camera set up above the television," the man continued, gesturing to what looked like a webcam sat on top of the TV. "This is for our observation during the study. We do not keep recordings of today, it is only a live feed, however our researchers will be making notes for future reference throughout the study. This study will consist of two videos, each about 25 minutes long, which will start shortly after I leave the room. Do you have any questions?"

The pair shook their heads as they finished securing their wristbands. The research assistant turned the screen on and left the room, closing the door behind him.

After a few seconds a video started on the screen. Jon allowed himself to sit back into the sofa, apprehensive about what was to come.

The video started with a blonde woman in her late teens entering a massage parlour. She started to undress next to the massage table, stripping down to a thin green bikini which left very little to the imagination. She lay down on the table on her front as a muscular man walked into the room. He was much older than her, clearly over forty. He picked up a bottle of oil and started to rub some between his hands before starting to massage her shoulders.

Less than a minute into the massage the man suggested that the woman removed her bikini top as the straps would be in the way as he moved down to massage her back. The woman complied, with the camera getting a lingering shot of her ample breasts as she removed her top, before she moved her hands to cover her modesty and lay back down on her front.

"Okay, I've seen enough," said Jon. "We should go."

"What, why?"

"This is clearly a porn film, Emma, I don't want you to see this."

"Oh, don't be such a prude, Dad. I'm nineteen, not twelve. I've seen porn before."

"We're father and daughter, it's not appropriate for us to be watching this together."

"Dad it's fine, it's just porn. For the amount we're getting paid I was expecting a lot worse. And as porn films go this one doesn't even look that bad. Come on, just suck it up and in less than an hour we'll be out of here."

"You really want that €200, huh?"

"Enough that I'll sit here feeling awkward and uncomfortable for a bit. It's more than I make doing a whole weekend of shifts waiting tables and it would be nice to have a bit more spending money while we're out here."

"Alright," Jon sighed, "I guess we can stay."

At this point the man in the video had moved far enough down the young woman's back to request that she removed her bikini bottoms. She lifted her stomach and let the man slowly slide them down her toned legs, the camera looking straight down her calves as he removed the thin piece of fabric to focus in on her newly exposed nether regions. The man massaged her ass cheeks and the insides of her thighs, his hands allowing a better view for the camera each time he spread her thigh muscles outwards.

Jon shifted uncomfortably. He could feel his dick starting to stiffen, and he felt annoyed that it was apparently very engaged with the activities happening on the screen and completely oblivious to his daughter sitting next to him. He suddenly became conscious of how warm the room they were sitting in was. He took off his fleece, placing it on his lap to conveniently cover the growing bulge in his trousers.

The masseur in the video had finished his first pass down the blonde lying on the table and was now asking her to turn over so that he could massage her front, handing her an almost comically small white towel which just about covered her substantial chest and reached down her stomach to barely cover her pussy. He began massaging around her collarbone, his palms pressing into the top of her cleavage.

Emma was starting to feel the warmth of the room as well. She took her jacket off before leaning forward and pouring herself a glass of iced water from the jug. She sipped it, the cool liquid helping to relieve her slightly along with the chill from the glass on her hands. It had a slightly strange taste to it, not a distinctive flavour that she could pick out, but it definitely wasn't typical bottled water. Maybe that was just how the tap water tasted here.

Jon followed suit and poured himself a glass. On-screen, the man had moved down the woman's chest. Initially she'd put up some resistance as he tried to shift the towel down off her chest, before relenting and allowing the man to start fully massaging her breasts. The towel dropped completely to the floor as her back arched in pleasure, her sultry moans filling the room around Jon and Emma as the man lightly pinched her nipples and his palms kneaded her chest.

The masseur briefly stopped the massage to lower the waistband of his shorts, releasing his large cock and offering towards the woman's face. She reached out with one hand and guided it into her mouth, pulling herself over towards him and moaning as one of his hands now moved down her stomach and started to caress between her legs.

"This is so unrealistic," said Jon, "a man my age would never be able to pick up a teenager like that so easily. I mean obviously this is fiction, but they could at least make it believable."

"I dunno, Dad, I think you'd be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"It happens pretty often I'd say. A lot of girls like an older man."

"They like it?"

"There's a girl I work with, Cassandra, she's dating a guy in his forties. All he did was flirt with her for a couple of nights while she was working behind the bar and she gave him her number."

"Because she's into older guys?"

"At first I thought she was just going out with him because he's got money and takes her out on expensive dates, but she says it's not about that. She says he's really interesting to talk to, and... well, she talks a lot about how he's way better in the bedroom than guys our age."

"Way better?"

"She says every night she's spent with him she's climaxed at least three times, while with guys at college she's lucky if she gets close to once. That an older man is more concerned that the girl he's with is having a good time and he knows how to make sure she does. Most college guys just care about scoring."

"That makes sense, I guess..." Jon didn't really know how to react. He'd always assumed the middle-aged man getting it on with some young bimbo was just a trope in porn to appeal to the fantasies of a male audience. On-screen the man pulled the woman towards him so that her bottom was on the end of the massage table, lifted her legs up to his shoulders and started to slowly push his cock inside her. Jon awkwardly readjusted his pants as he was now near enough fully erect. He finished his glass of water.

Emma wasn't immune to the actions on-screen either as the room filled with the mixed sounds of bodies slapping together and the loud moans of the blonde woman - acting or not it seemed like she was enjoying it. With her jacket on her lap as cover, Emma slowly slid her hand under the waistband of her jeans and underwear and felt how wet she was. She offered herself a few gentle rubs over her clit before stopping, worried that she'd give herself away if she continued any further. She glanced up at her father, who was staring at the energetic fucking taking place on the screen.

"See this isn't that bad, Dad" she said, feeling very conscious that her fingertips were still directly in contact with her labia as she spoke. He turned to look at her.

"I guess not, but it's still pretty weird to be watching this together, isn't it? And it's so warm in here..."

"Yeah, the water helps a bit but it's still really hot in here." Her hand couldn't resist a few more slow circles over her mound, as she held her dad's gaze to confirm he wasn't looking down at where her hand was. She felt a nervous excitement at secretly touching herself while sitting so close to him.

After switching through a couple of different positions on the massage table, the video on the screen reached its inevitable climax, with the woman reaching a squealing orgasm just in time for the man to pull out and shoot thick ropes of cum over her breasts and face.

"Well, we're halfway I guess," Jon laughed nervously. He was genuinely happy to be halfway through but also wasn't happy about still having nearly half an hour left to sit there with a throbbing erection he could do absolutely nothing about.

The screen went black for a few seconds before starting the next video. The video started setting the scene with a young man and woman talking and establishing that they were brother and sister.

"Ah OK, first they have a porn video with actors that match our age gap, and now they're showing us an incest flick," Jon said scornfully.

"Obviously they're not actually brother and sister, Dad," said Emma. "It's just a fantasy."

"I know... I just... I suppose I just don't get why people get off on this sort of thing." Jon sighed.

"I dunno... I guess people just like the forbidden side of it? That people who aren't supposed to do that sort of thing together still end up doing it."

"Do you ever watch this sort of stuff?" Jon asked

"No, of course not" replied Emma. That wasn't strictly true, there had been at least a couple of times watching porn that she'd stumbled onto those sorts of videos, maybe even a couple of times she'd liked the actors and the setup enough to get off to it. But she didn't routinely seek it out. Being an only child and growing up with just one parent she'd never really felt part of a big family, in some ways that meant that the whole incest angle neither bothered her nor drew her in.

Jon poured himself another glass of water as he could feel the sweat starting to bead on his forehead. He felt the heat in the room had to be intentional, even now in just jeans and a t-shirt he felt way too hot. On the screen, the siblings had decided to settle an argument over who was stronger by wrestling each other, the two making half-hearted attempts to pin each other down whilst rolling around on the floor and groping each other.

"I'm going to assume they'll be a bit more convincing once it gets to the sex than they are at trying to wrestle," snorted Emma. Jon smiled, and wondered if maybe he should just relax and try and be a bit less uptight about the whole thing. Emma was clearly a lot less fazed about it all than he was, maybe he just needed to loosen up a little and stop being so protective.

"Can I take my top off?" asked Emma. "I've got a bra on underneath. It's just so damn hot in here..."

"Sure, I guess," replied Jon. "If it makes you more comfortable." Emma put her hands on the lower hem of her t-shirt and pulled it up and off in one smooth motion, revealing a plain black bra underneath.

"That feels a bit better," she said, repositioning the straps on her bra. Jon resisted the urge to glance across at his daughter's pale cleavage on display next to him. On the screen both characters were also removing various items of clothing, announcing that their tops and trousers were restricting their wrestling techniques too much, and stripping down to their underwear. The woman's breasts threatened to burst out of the lacy bra she was wearing, as her role-playing brother removed his jeans to reveal a sizeable bulge in his boxer shorts.