This story is a work of fiction. It contains descriptions of sex between men.
Recruiting Shawn
I ambled through the center of campus, checking out the possibilities. The huge lawn was filled with students everywhere and in almost every state of (un)dress, all enjoying the hot spring sunshine. This was the best time of year, since most of these kids would now be running low on their painfully hoarded summer cash. The number of parties exploded at this time too, as everyone tried to make the most of their last few weeks. I noticed a small group of guys sitting around a cooler, shirts off, and I headed in their direction.
"What's up, fellas," I asked cheerfully. I got the blankly hostile look of college age guys being addressed by a stranger. Moving right along. "How'd you guys like to earn some fast cash? My company needs some work done, and we pay really well. Come by tomorrow, we're right near campus." I dropped a pile of business cards on their cooler and walked away.
My office is only a block away from the campus gate, and I was there early. I didn't expect much, since it was always tricky getting new guys to show up, but I think one or two may have been interested. Sure enough, around eleven one of the boys walked through the door. He was dressed in total A&F style, board shorts with a white muscle tee, flip flops and wraparound shades. His brown hair was cut in short spikes with blond tips. In other words, a walking wet dream. His name was Shawn.
"I'm glad you came, Shawn, please take a seat." I led him over to my desk and pulled out the visitor's chair. "You must be wondering what we do here, and why I asked you to come." Blank stare. I passed him a company brochure and went on. "We're a film making company, and we need people to test our new films on. Kind of like a focus group, or one of those surveys you get asked to take by people at the mall. I said we pay very well, and we do. If you agree to take the first step in the process today, we'll give you five hundred dollars." Definite interest. "Take a look at that brochure to see what we make." I love the looks on their faces. From curiosity to manly outrage in nothing flat.
"This is gay!" he burst out, dropping the pamphlet on my desk. I held up a calming hand as he gathered himself to stand.
"Yes, it is Shawn. We're a gay video company. Not that we're interested in you!" I hastened to add (for right now). "We need to do all kinds of market research, and one of the most effective ways is to screen random people. You're one of hundreds of guys I've asked in here just this month." I could see he wasn't really reassured, so I hit the money issue.
"I told you five hundred dollars, right? Well, all you have to do to get it is sit though one movie and give us some responses. That's it. Nothing more, and then you're out of here with five hundred bucks. You can deal with that, right?" Still disgusted, he nevertheless settled down.
"You want in?" A beat.
"Yeah. I guess," though none too happily.
"Great! It's not that bad, I promise. Come this way," I said, leading him into our viewing room. A single comfortable chair sat in the middle of the small room. A wide screen TV hung on the wall opposite, and a small table sat next to it. On the table sat a box of tissues and a machine topped by a display screen, with several wires running out from the face. "Sit down, please, and we'll get this over with." He sat. I stood by the machine.
"Now Shawn, our research involves measuring your response to the images you see. This machine will record your physical reactions. Ok?" He nodded, scowling.
"These sensor pads will go on various parts of your body, and your responses will be displayed on the screen. It'll look like the heart monitors you see on ER. Do you mind if I attach them?" He pulled his shirt up, baring a beautiful six pack and tiny pink nipples. I stuck the pads to his chest, keeping both eyes and hands strictly on my work. A couple more sensors went on his temples, leaving only one wire left. It ended with a thin loop of Velcro and a loop of stretchy plastic, like a rubber band. I held it up to him.
"Now, this is the most important of our sensors. And it's the one guys have the most trouble with. Can you guess where it goes?" A look of pure, dawning horror as he did.
"Do you think you can handle it? I'm going to leave the room while you put it on. The rubber loop goes around the base of your penis, and the Velcro strap goes around your scrotum. This sensor here will measure temperature and blood flow, and the rubber loop measures penile circumference. I'll be back in a minute." I put it down and walked out, shutting the door firmly. Direct and to the point was best at this stage. I gave him three minutes, then knocked and walked back in. His face was burning red, with either anger or embarrassment, or both. More to the point, the wire disappeared at the top of his waistband, and the display screen showed the proper information.
"There, all ready now? It's only for twenty minutes today, then the movie's over and you're done. You set to begin?"
"Yes," he growled sullenly.
"Ok. Off you go." I pressed a button on the machine and the TV lit up. I flicked off the lights and walked out as our theme music played in the background.
At the workstation in the next room I sat down to watch the monitors. The movie Shawn was watching played on one side, and the information gathered by our machine on the other. That way I can sync his responses to the stuff on the screen. Right now the actors' were going through the usual stilted dialogue that clutters up every porn movie. I've been pushing for straight (no pun intended), no words, no music fuck flicks for years, but the producers still insist on character' and `scene.' Whatever.
The pair of young men, about Shawn's age, finally realized that they did indeed have the hots for each other. The taller, dark haired one bellied up to the shorter redhead and started to feel him up. The monitors registered an elevated heart rate and the brain activity associated with revulsion. All normal there, and it looks like Shawn is an honest to God straight boy. How cute. A further spike of disgust as the duo started to kiss.
Now is a good time to tell you about an unspoken feature of our machine. It is a device for measuring responses, and it is used for market testing our movies. It also, however, has a little extra feature that I get to use once in a great while. Our company specializes in videos starring college age boys, exactly like Shawn. Since our customers constantly demand new `material,' and since the bloom of youth is all too fleeting, we're always on the lookout for fresh talent. Unfortunately, finding new gay porn stars isn't as easy as ordering out of a catalogue, so our research has always involved recruiting any video tester that shows the appropriate amount of interest. Even though we search out the most likely candidates from all the local colleges, finding new boys is still up to chance. So, with the interests of our loyal customers at heart, sometimes we cheat.
Our machine has a series of small electrical stimulators built into the straps that wrap around the subject's penis. They can, at appropriate moments, send slight, unnoticeable electric currents directly into the nerves responsible for making the cock the irresistible toy that it is. Like it or not, any boy hooked to our machine can be made to throw a bone, even to the gayest, most cock slobbering, cum spouting, ass plugging movies around. And, the best part is, the body always trumps the brain. A young man can be totally disgusted by what he's seeing and still have the most intense orgasm of his life to date. And once they get through the first time, once the mental barrier to gay sex is broken, they can be taught that pleasure is pleasure, no matter what the source, and oh by the way why not come work for us? Underhanded, yes, but we've never had a complaint.
On the screen the fully clothed dark haired guy was on his knees, giving the naked redhead a highly skilled blowjob, casting enormous dark eyes adoringly upward as he fondled his partner's balls and ass. Shawn's signs had settled down into stoic boredom, showing no interest or involvement with the movie. I pushed a dial up to notch one and watched the screen.
At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the heart rate started to climb and the penile blood flow to increase. Right now, in the dark, gay porn filled room next door, Shawn was sprouting wood. His brain waves indicated confusion, and alarm. He was probably trying to get rid of it, thinking about something else, but the electric current pouring into his dick kept it hard. The movie screen showed the dark haired man bent over the back of a couch, just now taking his friend's massive cock up his ass. I rolled the dial up to two. The panting of the boys on screen would be filling the room, impossible to ignore.
Shawn's readings showed that his agitation level was gradually dropping. Confusion remained, accompanied by a little shock and a growing activity in the pleasure center of his brain. His automatic, completely animal impulses were kicking in, and I imagine that his cock was pulsing and leaking. Level three followed as the redhead set off to give the other boy a spectacular fucking.
I kept the machine at level three while the redhead settled into his rhythm. At that level Shawn's penis would be supremely sensitive and would react to any feeling, no matter how slight. Even the brush of his boxers as they tented around that iron rod would now send unstoppable waves of pleasure burning through his body. Cranking it up to level four would risk sending him over the edge before the end of the movie, and I wanted to time it just right.
The redhead was getting close. His back writhed as he bucked his cock deep inside his friend. The dark haired boy's rigid dick was visible between their legs, pointing straight down the back of the couch, rubbing against the cloth with each thrust from the rear. His cries would be spiraling up toward the shrill keen of release. I rolled the dial up to four.
Shawn's monitor showed only pleasure. The penile circumference read eight inches. He must be packing a monster down in those boardies. The camera zoomed in for a close up of the dark haired boy's dick, still trapped pointing down against the couch. The fat cock head danced on the screen, the piss slit gaping open. In the viewing room his breathless cries of animal heat would be reverberating through the panels of hidden speakers, vibrating Shawn's body at a primal level. A sudden spike of alarm on the monitor as the toyboy's cock finally blew, wave after wave of thick white cream blasting down the back of the couch. The camera pulled back to show the dark haired boy up on his toes, grinding his ass back onto the redhead's pole. Shawn's heart was pounding and the line measuring activity in the pleasure center was a blur of jagged spikes.
The dial clicked to a stop at five, just as the redhead's butt thrust back at the camera. Cut to a side view of his enormous, juicy pole jetting streams of cum all over the other boy's back and ass. Thick splats of jizz fired between his spread cheeks, one scoring a perfect bull's eye through the gaping wide love tunnel. Then, just as that mouth watering fountain was trickling down to empty, the orgasm alarm flashed on Shawn's monitor. The sensors recorded massive surges in his pleasure center, heart rate, and penis girth as his cock let fly. The experience must have been one of the most intense in his life. The machine recorded eight major ejaculations and a long string of aftershocks, in total lasting almost two minutes. I powered down the machine.
The movie ended and I switched off Shawn's screen from my workstation. I let him have a full five minutes alone in the darkened viewing room, leaving him alone to come down from his post-orgasmic high. I walked out to the hall and knocked lightly.
"Ya, uhm, yeah," asked a testosterone choked voice. I walked in to stand by the machine, carrying a clipboard. His face was flushed and sweaty, and his eyes were a little wild. All of the wires were piled on top of the machine, and his shorts were rumpled but dry. I went through the ten standard questions that we ask all of our reviewers, and his answers were all over the place. He was clearly unsettled, and I took pity.
"Well, thank you very much, Shawn. Your responses to our movie will be very helpful. I believe I owe you this," I asked lightly, setting a pile of fifties on the table. He snatched them up and stood, hurrying toward the door.
"Oh, Shawn?" He hesitated. "You're more than welcome to come back anytime. We find repeat viewership helps us focus our questions." He fled.
I started to tidy up the viewing room, readying for our next guest. As I swabbed the sensor pads with disinfectant, I noticed a huge wad of sodden tissues hidden under the chair. I smiled. He'll be back.
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