Shy Samantha Helps with Researchbyptstewart©
The target was sitting as usual at an outside table at the coffee bar across the street. She nursed her one cappuccino carefully making it last a full hour while she read. She was tall with long flowing limbs that looked athletic but were unearned by any sweat. She usually wore jeans with trainers, a tight colorful top sometimes covered by a scuffed black leather jacket. She looked about 20. There were two things though that suggested some money and care. Her dark brown hair that floated about her long pale neck was obviously an expensive cut and the glasses she wore, small lenses and elegant minimalist frames, were pricey. She had a habit of flicking her hair from her face as she read with a quick twist of her head. I had watched a guy try to start a conversation with her the other day and noticed how timid and shy she seemed. She didn’t look him in the eye and was clearly awkward. He had retreated when she opened up her book and ignored him.
We had set up the room in the office block the day before with the connivance of the security guard. Outside the entrance to our suite was a sign announcing us as “Medical Research Associates.” The room itself contained an examination bed, a counter covered with various chemistry-like instruments, a desk and a few chairs. Several diplomas hung on the walls and a large indoor plant completed the picture. My partner, Steve, looked the part of the avuncular doctor. He was older than me, had salt ‘n pepper hair, had a round stomach and a deep reassuring voice. But it was my job to lure the victim in.
I had noticed that she read books about ancient Greek philosophy and knew that the only topic of conversation that would attract her was her area of study. I knew a little from some philosophy courses taken years ago. I hoped I remembered enough to get through the first couple of minutes of conversation. I waited until just before lunch when the tables began to fill up and her coffee was almost drained. I asked her if I could sit at her table. She nodded barely looking up. I sat and immediately launched into my prepared speech.
“Doesn’t Socrates annoy you? He always has an answer but the questions he gets asked are invariably dumb and then everyone nods in agreement with him but the real questions never get answered.”
She looked up from behind her book and without a thought of where she was and who I was and launched into a spirited defense of Socrates. Her voice was pleasantly girlish and she used her long slender fingers to emphasize her points. As she spoke the waitress appeared and I ordered two cappuccinos without asking her if she wanted another one. By the time the waitress returned we had reached the outer limit of my knowledge of Plato and Aristotle and so I introduced myself, leaning across the table to shake her hand. Her name was Samantha.
“I wanted to study philosophy but medical research is my calling.”
“Oh, that’s cool and important I suppose.”
“Yeah,” I replied, “someone’s got to do the work. Even philosophers need healthy bodies.” She laughed sweetly in acknowledgement.
“What kind of research do you do?” she asked, the cup poised at her mouth.
“At the moment, we are researching the best methods for analyzing samples from victims of sexual crimes. But the whole project is about to flop. Two years of work going down the drain.”
“Why?” she asked, her forehead creased into a concerned frown.
“It’s such important work but the funds are going to run dry. You know these conservative types. They’d rather use the money for research into the diseases of the rich.” She nodded, her generous mouth tightening in angry sympathy. “I had a deadline for today to get samples to the main lab but my volunteer stood me up. Can you believe it? It’s not as if we don’t pay anything. I mean its a thousand dollars for half-an-hour. It makes me so mad.” She leaned across the table towards me, blowing away a strand of hair that had fallen across her bright young face.
“Surely you can get someone else if the money’s that good.”
“I need someone who fits the profile. She has to be under 25 and healthy and not sexually promiscuous. In particular she shouldn’t have had sex in the last two weeks.” This was a gamble, but I guessed she didn’t have a steady boyfriend and she didn’t look the type to have strings of one-night-stands. “And this is to the benefit of thousands of women,” I continued. “You’d think she would have the decency to turn up.” I fell back in my chair with an air of exasperation. I could see that she was thinking through the possibilities. I hoped my guess that she had some credit card debt was right. Those haircuts and glasses had to be paid for somehow.
“How long did you say it took?”
“Half-an-hour, forty-five minutes tops,” I paused and looked up at her with a puzzled expression on my face. “You’re not thinking … no, I couldn’t ask you …”
“But your research,” she protested. “And it’s for a good cause. Plus the money would come in handy to be honest.”
“You must have a boyfriend surely, pretty, sexy girl like you.” She blushed deeply.
“Not at the moment” she announced. “What’s involved exactly?”
“I tell you what,” I said, pushing back my chair and standing up, “why don’t we just go across the road and I’ll let Doctor Rogers explain it all to you.”
Five minutes later she was seated opposite Steve and me, an envelope containing the thousand dollars in cash resting heavily in her hands. Steve had bustled about her when she came through the door making her feel comfortable and welcomed. After she had filled in a couple of bogus forms Steve started the questioning.
“So, Samantha we need to know a little about you before we start the examination and take the samples.” She whispered her agreement.
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“Um, about three months ago,” she answered a little warily.
“How many sexual partners have you had in total?”
I sighed loudly.
“Look, I’m sure she is telling the truth,” Steve said to me. He reached across and took her hand. “Don’t worry about him he is just wants to make sure we get things right. Now, you are a sexy girl and, well, we would expect that you would have had more sexual experience than you say. But if you are telling the truth that’s okay. Just answer the questions truthfully.” Steve beamed his caring smile at her and let go of her hand.
“Really I have only been with two guys,” she looked from me to Steve with an earnest look on her face.
“I believe you,” Steve assured her. “Now,” he continued, “we ask the same questions of all our volunteers and many of them are not as educated as you and so we have to use, you know, a language everyone can understand. We have to use the same words in every examination so I will be using words like “cunt” and “pussy” and “cock” is that alright with you?” Samantha nodded. “You know what those words mean, right?” She nodded again. “I bet you use them yourself sometimes; at least when you are thinking about sexual things. Am I right?” Samantha looked a little fearfully at me and said “Yes.”
“When did you last masturbate?” Steve asked. There was a long pause and finally she said, “On Wednesday night.”
“Did you finger your pussy or use a toy of some kind?” Again she paused looking down at her hands still holding the envelope of money.
“Would you rather he used the word “cunt”? I asked.
“No,” she said quickly. “I used my fingers…This isn’t what I expected. I’m not sure I want to do this anymore.”
I stood up. “Damn Samantha, you can’t just fuck around with people’s lives and careers like this. Answer a few fucking questions. Stop being such a stupid fucking …” Steve pulled me back down onto the chair. “Okay, okay, let’s keep calm here. Samantha’s going to be wonderful, just wonderful and as soon as we get on with it, the sooner we can all go home. Now, Samantha, you suck cock, right?”
“I have, yes.”
“Do you like sucking cock?”
“I think so …”
“Do you swallow or spit?”
“I try to swallow it.”
Steve carried on asking questions about her sex life. She hadn’t yet had anal sex. She had watched a couple of porn movies her father had hidden away in a closet. Yes, she had masturbated while watching them. Her fantasies were pretty tame – nice boy on the beach kind of thing.
“Does it excite you talking about this?” Steve asked at the end of the questioning. She looked at me quickly and blushed.
“Just a little bit maybe … I don’t know …”
“Well, we need you a bit aroused before we insert the semen.” I said casually.
“Insert the What ….? She said looking quickly from me to Steve.
“The cum,” I explained, “We insert cum into your vagina, anus and mouth and then take swabs and run tests.”
“But … you never said anything about that,” She said half standing up.
Steve deep reassuring voice intervened. “Samantha, nothing will hurt you. It’s all very quick I promise. This was all cleared buy the Ethics Committee and remember, we are doctors. Why don’t you put down the envelope and your book and just go with the flow a bit.”
Samantha flicked a few strands of hair from her face and then placed the book and the envelope on the floor beside her chair.
“Good, well done!” said Steve clapping his hands and making Samantha smile nervously. “Now,” he continued, “We need you to remove your jacket, trainers and your jeans and hop on to the examination bed over there.”
She stood, her eyes making no contact with either of us. She pushed back her shoulders and slipped out of the jacket. And then she bent over, her athletic body elastic enough for her to reach the laces on her shoes. I swallowed in anticipation as she popped the button, tugged the zipper and the wriggled out of her jeans. She wore a pair of cream silky panties that barely covered her pubic area and which left most of her ass cheeks exposed. She turned offering us a view of her splendid ass as she walked across the room to the bed where she sat waiting for me.
“Lie back Samantha … that’s good. See, it’s not so bad is it?”
“No,” she swallowed, looking up at the ceiling.
“I am going to manipulate your clitoris to arouse you so that we can get a proper reading. To do that I am going to have to pull your panties aside so don’t be alarmed. So open your legs just a little … that’s it, and tell me when you’re ready, ok?”
“Ok,” she whispered.
I ran my hand over her perfect, flat tummy and across her mound and then pushed my finger beneath the elastic of her panties. I could feel her jump under my touch. “I want you to remember the last time you sucked cock. Think about having that cock in your mouth. It was good wasn’t it?”
“And you masturbate thinking about him don’t you, alone in your room at night?”
“Yeah …” Her breath was coming faster as my finger found the wet channel between her pussy lips and traveled up towards her clit. She moaned beautifully as the tip of my finger brushed her swollen, bursting clit. I then dropped two fingers down and pushed them easily into her hole. She lifted her hips off the bed and grunted with unexpected pleasure.
“I think she’s ready,” I called out to Steve who walked across carrying a glass tube of my cum. I stopped masturbating her when I thought she was close to orgasm. She groaned.
“Open wide,” said Steve in his cheerful dentist’s voice.
Obediently Samantha allowed Steve to pour the cum directly into her mouth.
“Don’t swallow,” Steve said. “Hold it there in your mouth. Good girl … Now open wide again.” It was a beautiful sight; she was lying there, her panties pushed to one side exposing her heated cunt, the sweet short curls of her pubic hair damp with her excitement, and her mouth open showing her tongue cradling my sperm. Steve used a cotton bud to scoop out some cum and saliva and said she could swallow. When she spoke I could see the cum still sticking to her lips. Her brown/green eyes were filling up with tears behind her glasses.
“I feel so humiliated by this,” she sobbed. “Please can we stop now. Please doctor. I’ll give you back the money.” The tears were now rolling down her cheeks.
“It’s too late Samantha. I have fingered your cunt. I know what kind of girl you really are. I’ve had sluts and whores in here with less responsive pussies than yours.”
“I can’t help it,” she said in response. “I try not to think about sex and guys and the things I want them to do to me … but …”
“But you’re too shy to act and so you spend endless hours in fantasy and masturbation, am I right?”
“You enjoyed stripping off your jeans in front of us didn’t you?”
“I’m sorry, I really am …”
“Not a problem Samantha, not a problem,” I reassured her. “You are a great piece of pussy with a great ass … You like it when I talk about you like that don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good. Now when we have whores in here they usually have cum already in them. This is the best kind of sample you understand?” She nodded, her tears now drying up. “Now I know you are not a whore but you have advanced sluttish characteristics. So what I would like to do is ask the Bob the security guard to come up and participate with you so we get a direct level two sample from your pussy. Now, remember no one is going to know what happens in this room. You have complete privacy. We are doctors remember.” She looked uncertain. Her body was trembling. “How many times have you imagined having dirty sex with a stranger, eh? Now, in the safety of this environment it can happen. And …of course … you will be helping a really important research project. What could be better?” She sat on the edge of the bed in silence. “Look, you’ve given poor old Doctor Rogers a hard-on just thinking about it.” She laughed at this. The same girlish laugh I’d heard at the coffee shop. “Should I ask Bob to come up?” She nodded.
Bob entered the room in his black uniform, complete with cuffs and baton. He was well over six foot tall, about thirty years old and obviously spent too much of his leisure time in a gym. Bob allowed us to set up the scam in the empty offices in the building in exchange for fucking the women we lured in. Samantha sat on the edge of the examination bed still in her top and panties looking terribly self-conscious. Bob was impressed with his own physique and happily undressed, peeling off his shirt and stepping out of his pants. He stood smiling at her in his boxer shorts tented by his already large erection. I suggested quietly to Samantha that she take off her remaining clothes. She jumped off the bed with an apologetic smile and obeyed. Her breasts were pale, firm magnificent. Her deliciously pink pointed nipples invited, asked for, the attentions of a mouth. Now that she was completely naked I could see how fuckable, how completely fuckable she was. Bob placed a hand on her head and pushed Samantha down onto her knees and towards his huge cock. She flicked her hair from her face and released it and Bob guided her mouth to its task.
Steve and I sat in our interview chairs and watched as Bob used Samantha’s mouth to masturbate his straining cock. His hand was entangled in her hair as he pushed the head of his shaft deeper and deeper into her throat. I could see that she was struggling to breathe. When she started to struggled Bob released her enough for us to hear her gasp for air. Again and again he did this, never letting go of her hair and causing her glasses to fall the floor. Finally he hauled her to her feet, turned her so that she bent over the examination bed, and thrust his saliva coated cock into her cunt. Samantha’s groan of pain and pleasure resounded in the room. His large hands gripped her hips and ass and, piston-like, he pounded her from behind. Her cit was rubbing against the edge of the bed with each mammoth thrust and her moans slowly turned into quiet and then louder shouts of “Yes, yes, fuck yes.” By the time Bob was reaching his climax Samantha was yelling her pleasure, her previous shyness forgotten. I saw an enormous shudder pass through her. Her inner contractions brought Bob to his own conclusion and he expressed his pleasure in a loud, animal-like, grunt.
Once Bob had left Steve went across to Samantha who was still lying across the bed. His picked up her fallen glasses and after inviting her to sit up he placed them carefully on her face. She mumbled as quiet “Thank you.” She looked across to me, her eyes wide and again gave me a smile this time more of pride and satisfaction than shyness. I returned her smile and felt something in me engage with her. The moment was lost when Steve asked her lie flat on her stomach for the final part of the procedure.
Standing behind her I spread her ass cheeks wide. I could see Bob’s cum dribbling slowly out of her pussy below me. Steve had already taken a sample from her cunt and was now standing at the head of the bed. In one hand I had a large dildo. I bent over her ass and could almost smell the perfection of her skin beneath the scent of cum and her sweat. My tongue found the flower of her pink asshole. I felt her quiver under my touch. I breathed in her scent while I licked her, moving my tongue along the whole length of her ass. She had the bright red imprints of Bob’s hands on her ass that would be purple bruises the next day. For some reason these too seemed to add to her perfection. Reluctantly I raised my head only to see that Steve’s cock had found its way into Samantha’s abused mouth. He gave me a pathetic smile and shrugged his shoulders. We generally didn’t fuck the victims, it spoiled the cover story. But Samantha seemed unconcerned. I guessed that after her first real orgasm with a man something fundamental had changed in her and she no longer cared much about our cover story.
She raised her hips to meet the tip of the dildo and I pushed slowly hoping not to hurt her. She stopped sucking Steve’s cock while she concentrated on what was happening to her ass. Once I had filled her with the dildo she resumed sucking with increased enthusiasm. As I ass fucked her with the dildo I admired the long expanse of her back, perfectly divided by the valley of her spine. I watched her neck muscles pulse as she moved up and down the cock in her mouth. I moved my hand down the smooth curve of her flank and over her hip. My attention was broken by the sound of Steve nearing his orgasm. I increased the rhythm of the dildo’s thrusts in her asshole to match Steve’s efforts in her mouth. As he came he pulled out and sprayed her face, a great wad of cum hitting her forehead and sliding down beneath her glasses. He squeezed the remaining cum onto her face while I slowly removed the dildo. Once she was free of cock and dildo she turned on to her back and immediately began masturbated herself, her eyes fixed on me. She quickly orgasmed and then rolled into a fetal position on the bed.
Dressed again and clutching her book and the envelope of cash, she stood in front of me and offered another of her shy smiles.
“I think I knew when the security guy came in,” she said.
“Well, you’re an educated, clever girl,” I offered. She smiled again this time with her eyes fixed on mine making something lurch inside of me.
“Do you really think Socrates is annoying? She asked.
“Would Socrates approve of what happened here?”
“No way,” she said in her girlish voice.
“Then he is annoying, right?” She leaned towards me and gave me a quick kiss on my cheek. “Is that best you can do?” I asked playfully. This time she closed her eyes and I felt the softness of her lips against mine. I responded and could taste cock on her tongue but beneath this I could imagined I could taste her. Samantha stood back resting her hands on me shoulders.
“Hey, you’re a good kisser.”
“Not too bad yourself.”
As she left she said, “Anytime you want to discuss philosophy and buy me a coffee you know where to find me.”