Guinea Pig -- In Spandex

Today I was examined, poked, and tested in almost every way shape or form.

I volunteered for experiments in a university database and was called in for a sports medicine study.

The pay was outrageously good, so I called in sick at work and, well, sort of 'went to the doctor', right?

The last e-mail I got from them warned me about having to wear spandex the whole time. Hah!

I didn't know what to think but I figured I would just deal with it on the spot.

I sort of figured it'd just be me and a nerdy research assistant anyway.

Shit was I wrong. The complex was insanely high tech filled with athletic and scientific memorobilia.

I signed my life away as usual, and was then greeted by a freakin team of 6 research scientists. They were waiting for one last peice of equipment before I could get started.

As they were waiting, one of them sort of jokingly asked as she pulled something out of a bag--"You think you could fit extra-small spandex?"

My eyes just sort of became instantly taller with surprise and some fear. "Ugh... sure, I guess".

She smiled big and looked back into the bag.

I looked around the lab. The place could easily have been a sci-fi set. Eight cameras lined the perimeter of the room. They had several types of sensory functions including a regular lens, flourescent panels, and reflective strips. Each had a timer.

The woman stepped up to me and handed me a small wad of clothing. I looked at it as she pushed it into my arms. I was like, WTF?

She just smiled as she turned away. One of the guys gruffly said, "the mens room is that away."

Oh fuck, I looked at the clothes. I was basically going to wear square cut speedos and a string top. The question was how sheer and how tight would the outfit be.

I tried it on--and to my enormous relief--the cut was flattering and I looked better than I expected. Much better. I wasn't embarassed to go out at all.

As soon as I got out onto the floor, they weighed me and measured me. They asked about my workouts, what I did, and if I had any pain anywhere. The girl who handed me the clothes said, "They fit, huh?"

"I'm basically naked," I said in a hushed voice as I looked down and adjusted the bottom of the shorts. They laughed.

Then a guy came at me with an the insane amount of electrodes. I asked--"how many of those will I be wearing???"

"32" altogether said a different dude. I looked up at him, and noticed, shit, that one's hott. He's one of those former athlete types who stayed in shape. His face was totally square from any angle you looked at it. He was really tall. Like several inches taller than me, and as he twisted and turned (he was working the main console), I could tell, he didn't have any fat--just muscle and bone. He wore short dirty blonde hair, and had really big and deeply set blue eyes. His eye brows were also large, thick, expressive, and darker than the rest of his hair. Boing. As I looked at him, he gave me a big broad smile--which wasn't cocky at all. His smiled was just a nice guy smile, like someone who was trying to relate to you when you're in a bad situation.

I figured out eventually why he looked at me that way. Three other people approached me with extra stick pads for the electrodes and razors. The girl with the shaver razor, saw my expression, smiled, and as she looked away from me and down at my legs said, "Just in case we can't get them to stick."

Oh fuck.

I had hands being shoved up in my shorts putting electrodes all over my ass, the front of my hips, my obliques, and legs. I was there afterall because I was a runner.

Then they started testing each of them out by grabbing my legs and making me flex out of different holds. Hilarious.

The guy at the console was shouting out all the different muscles that were working well and the ones from which they couldn't yet get readings. They had to adjust the ones on the gluteus medius (I think).

This took forever, like 45mins. The cute guy looked at me, and said in a deep and smooth voice, "This is the longest part. We have to make sure we have clear signals for everything. The rest of the experiment goes by fairly quickly." He looked at me with caution.

I smiled, and said, "It's aight." He smiled back, and so I looked down quick--lest he catch me melting in puppy lust. He was just so fucken nice--and well, all nurturing in this hyper-masculine way. Like your best friend prepping your gear before your launch into space. Like your life depends on it. I think I was waay too into this guy;)

Anyway, after they had all the electrodes properly placed, they started sticking these interesting silver spheres on all my joints. The cameras were working. They asked me to move my limbs in all these funny ways, and then the dude at the console asked me to walk towards him. I was thinking, hmm... I like this part of the study.

He just had me come over and look at his console. He pointed, and started showing me how they were turning me into a computer model. There I was, a generic computer version of me, moving around--which according to them, was accurate both dimensionally and kinesthetically. Nuts.

I was instructed to step over a sensor plate. Then some chick came over, got in my face, and started reading me directions on what to do.

I did two practice runs, and then they started the trials.

I did like 5 exercises for each side of my body for multiple trials. It took forever. There were other studies going on in adjacent labs. People would just come over and stare at me. It could've been really awkward, but I was just going with the flow. At times, they would just come in and readjust an electrode or sphere.

When they finished, I realized that one of the dudes there was this guy who I see at the gym all the time. He just always looks like he has a stick up his ass. I think I look the same way. He smiled at me too. He was nice.

One of the women asked, What sports do you do?

I told her. She said, "Your left quad is bigger than your right."

Everyone stared at her disapprovingly, as if you're not supposed to say that.

I smiled, and looked down curiously at my legs, hmmm... I never noticed.

At one point, my hair blocked one of the spheres, so they tried to get a hair clip for me.

I said, "Ooops... that's later today."

They all laughed, and one of them said, "A hair cut?"

"Yea," I said.

Then the hot one said, "So tonight must be the big date," as he smiled and looked down at the console.

Fuck, I got suddenly aware that my crotch was in spandex.

"Hell the fuck yea," I thought to myself, "I only wish that the date were YOU hotness."

No one said anything after that for a while.

Two hours later, the whole thing finished up, and they were all thanking me for doing the study.

They were all over me trying to get the electrodes off of me as soon as possible without ripping off too much of my hair or skin cells.

6 people all at once---aaaaaah, so much for having body image issues.

The hot one said, "Well, it's good that your donating your body to science."

Hah, I thought... not really, but I'm fuck am I into you.

Another one then reprised, "that or the nice check he'll be getting in the mail." They chuckled.

Then another said, "You know you don't walk out with that money, right?"

I nodded, and said, "Yea."

On my way out, they told me more about the study. I made sure to look last at the hot one. I gave him a smile. He smiled too, and as he did, he looked away towards his console. Boy I wish he were gay.

That was part one of my day.

Later, I had to go to my dental folk, to get fitted for a night gaurd and a new retainer.

The receptionist is really nice, and I got called in quick.

I sat back. My regular doc wasn't in so another dude was seeing me.

He didn't seem to be clued in so he asked me all these questions. I said I wanted the retainer more than the night guard if there were any doubts as to which to prioritize at the lab, or if they were to be combined. I said, I just needed to be certain that my teeth didn't move. I had already worn out my old retainer. He had some doubts but ultimately proceeded with the impressions.

As the assistant starting mixing shit, he struck up conversation.

He was middle eastern and seemed to be very affable. I don't know why I just got that impression. Everyone at my dental place is super friendly, so I just thought--wow, they're really like this through and through with all their people.

I asked when my 'appliances' would be ready. He told me the day. I said, "Good because I'll be moving shortly after then."

He asked where I was moving. He just moved from there. We talked a little more.

The assistant came over with an empty tray and had me open my mouth. "Whoa," she said, "I can see why you don't want your teeth to move." I just looked at her with big eyes. He looked at my mouth, and said to her, "He'll need the larger tray. He's got a wide arch."

She went over and got a larger one. She said, "Open really wide.... Yea... you have gorgeous teeth." I blushed.

I had to work my lips a lot to get that big ass tray in my mouth, althought it did somehow fit my teeth--I don't know how.

She yanked it out, and filled it with the clay. This time the doc took the tray, and without saying a word opened my mouth forcefully with one hand, and then shoved the tray up into my mouth hard.

I was surprised, and looked up at him. He was smiling. I looked away slightly to avoid prolonged eye contact.

He kept looking at me with a smile, and I kept looking at the spot right next to him--the fire alarm flasher in this case.

I started to drift off into thought, when I noticed his other hand was moving. I looked over as his hand came over. He put his thumb under my lower lip, and then moved onto my upper lip. I looked up and he was smiling still at me.

He firmly and gently plucked my upper lip with his thumb in a downward motion, as if taking something off of them, but I didn't feel anything on them. My eyes widened and I tried to look down onto my lip. Then I looked up and away.

He yanked it out of my mouth. Then came the next tray. This time he looked away for a bit, but then again, looked at me. I looked away and couldn't tell if he was smiling.

Again, he brought up his hand to my face. I felt weird, sort of locked down onto this chair, with this large man standing over me, holding something in my mouth.

His other hand came onto my face, and started wiping in a caressing motion stuff off of my upper cheeks, under my eyes. Again, I didn't think I had anything on there, but he rubbed them.

This time he yanked the tray out sooner. And walked out. The assistant said, One thing I hate about this material is how messy it can get. She handed me a wet wipy and a mirror to 'clean myself'.

The doc then came back. "Well, I'll talk this over with the doc, and make sure we get you what you want," he said.

"Thanks."

"Here," he said, as he a business card into my hands. If you have any other questions, call me. Then he flipped it over. You also have my home number. I looked down at it. He had hand written another phone number on the back. I took the card to see if it was a different doctor's card or something. But no, it was his card, with his personal business info on it. The home info I guess was just... nice of him.

I looked up kind of confused but in a hurry and said, "Thank you very much." He just smiled at me in that very affable way he had since I came in. I turned and walked out.