The Temptation Study by harmonicks

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.