As well as one expected

Rebecca lay rigid on the examination table, the paper gown crinkling beneath her as George's hands rested on her shoulders. The van's interior felt increasingly warm and confining.

"First, we establish touch sensitivity baselines," George explained in his most professional tone. "Different individuals have different threshold responses. I need to map yours to calibrate the rest of the examination."

His hands began moving in slow circles on her shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there. Rebecca's eyes remained squeezed shut, her breathing deliberately measured.

"Just relax," George murmured. "Tension interferes with accurate readings."

Gradually, his hands worked their way down her arms, then back up to her collarbones. Each touch was clinical enough to maintain the charade but lingering enough to activate nerve endings. Rebecca's breathing changed subtly—not quite deepening, but becoming less rigid.

"Now I need to check tactile response on more sensitive areas," George announced, his fingers moving to the exposed portion of her upper chest just above the gown's edge. "This helps establish your vulnerability threshold."

"Is this really necessary?" Rebecca asked, her voice small but not resistant enough to stop him.

"Absolutely critical," George assured her. "The infidelity risk assessment depends on comprehensive data. Half the women who initially object thank me afterward for the thoroughness. Knowledge is power, Rebecca."

His fingers traced along her clavicle, then dipped slightly beneath the edge of the paper gown. Rebecca tensed but didn't stop him.

"I'm going to need to examine breast sensitivity now," George said matter-of-factly. "It's one of our primary indicators for physical susceptibility."

Before Rebecca could object, he gently pulled the gown down, exposing her breasts to the cool air of the van. They were fuller than he'd expected, with pale pink nipples that puckered immediately upon exposure.

"Oh!" Rebecca gasped, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself.

"Please keep your arms at your sides," George instructed firmly. "Interference compromises the results."

Reluctantly, Rebecca lowered her arms, her face burning with embarrassment as George's clinical gaze assessed her exposed chest.

"I'm going to apply graduated stimulus now," he explained, bringing his latex-covered hands to her breasts. "Your responses will be measured for comparison against our control data."

George cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. Despite her embarrassment, Rebecca's nipples hardened further at his touch—a physiological response she couldn't control.

"Interesting," George muttered, as if noting significant scientific data. "Your tactile sensitivity appears higher than average."

He began massaging her breasts with circular motions, occasionally brushing his thumbs across her nipples. Each time he did, Rebecca's breath hitched slightly.

"Are you experiencing arousal from this stimulus?" George asked directly, continuing his examination.

"N-no," Rebecca stammered unconvincingly. "It's just... cold in here."

"Hmm," George responded, pinching her nipples lightly between his fingers. Rebecca gasped involuntarily. "Your physiological responses suggest otherwise. Verbal denial with physical confirmation is actually one of our primary risk indicators."

Rebecca's eyes flew open, alarm crossing her features. "What does that mean?"

"It means you're showing classic signs of infidelity susceptibility," George explained gravely, continuing to fondle her breasts. "Your body responds to touch from a non-spouse while your conscious mind attempts to deny it. This creates the exact condition where infidelity typically occurs."

"But I would never cheat on my husband!" Rebecca protested, yet she made no move to stop George's hands as they worked her increasingly sensitive breasts.

"Consciously, perhaps not," George agreed. "But our assessment measures subconscious vulnerabilities. I need to continue the examination to determine the severity of your risk factor."

His hands moved down to her stomach, tracing circles on her soft skin. Rebecca's breathing had definitely deepened now, her chest rising and falling more prominently.

"I'm going to need to examine your lower response sensitivity now," George announced, his hand sliding down to rest on her thigh just below the hem of the paper gown.

Rebecca stiffened. "I don't think—"

"Rebecca," George interrupted firmly, "we've come this far. Don't you want complete results? A partial assessment is essentially worthless from a preventative standpoint."

His hand remained on her thigh, not moving higher until she consented. The manipulation was working—he could see the conflict in her eyes, the worry that refusing now would somehow confirm her guilt.

"Fine," she whispered after a long moment. "But just... be professional."

"Of course," George assured her, his cock throbbing painfully against his zipper as he slowly pushed the paper gown upward, exposing her panties—simple white cotton with a small bow at the waistband. "I'll need these removed for accurate readings."

Rebecca hesitated, then lifted her hips slightly, allowing George to slide the panties down her legs. He took his time, savoring the way her thighs trembled slightly as the fabric dragged against her skin. When the panties finally cleared her ankles, he made a show of placing them carefully on his desk "for later comparison."

Now exposed from the waist down, Rebecca instinctively pressed her thighs together, but George gently placed his hands on her knees.

"I need you to spread your legs for this part of the assessment," he instructed. "Resistance to examination is another risk indicator we measure."

Slowly, reluctantly, Rebecca allowed her legs to part. George's mouth went dry at the sight of her pussy—neatly trimmed with delicate pink folds partially visible between her outer labia.

"I'm going to perform a standard tactile assessment now," George announced, his clinical tone belied by the slight tremor of excitement in his voice. "Try to remain still and report any sensations honestly."

He placed his gloved hand on her inner thigh, just inches from her exposed sex, and began making small circular motions with his fingers. Rebecca's breathing quickened noticeably.

"Are you experiencing arousal from this touch?" George asked.

"No," Rebecca lied, her thighs tensing under his fingers.

"Remember, dishonesty compromises the assessment," George admonished, his hand moving higher until his thumb just barely grazed the outer edge of her labia. "Standard procedure requires honest reporting."

"Maybe... a little," Rebecca admitted reluctantly.

"That's better," George approved, his thumb now deliberately tracing along her outer lips. "Arousal response to non-spouse touch is our primary measurement criteria."

As his thumb continued its exploration, George noted with satisfaction that Rebecca's pussy was beginning to glisten with moisture. Her body was responding despite her conscious resistance.

"I need to check your lubrication response now," George explained, his finger dipping slightly between her folds. "This is a critical indicator of physical readiness for infidelity."

Rebecca gasped as his finger made contact with her slick entrance. "Oh!"

"Significant pre-lubrication detected," George announced, as if dictating notes to himself. "This is concerning, Rebecca. Your body is displaying high receptivity to non-spouse stimulation."

His finger pressed slightly into her opening, just enough to gather her natural moisture before drawing it upward to circle her clit. Rebecca's hips jerked in response.

"S-stop," she breathed, but without conviction. "This doesn't feel right."

"That's precisely what we're measuring," George explained, continuing his ministrations. "Whether your body responds 'rightly' to someone other than your husband. I'm afraid your physiological responses are indicating significant vulnerability."

His finger continued circling her clit, which had begun to swell beneath his touch. Rebecca's breathing grew increasingly ragged, her internal conflict visible on her flushed face.

"I'm going to need to perform a penetration response test now," George announced, positioning two fingers at her entrance. "This determines how readily your body accepts intrusion from a non-spouse."

"Wait," Rebecca protested, but her objection lacked ****. "Is that really necessary?"

"It's the most critical measurement in our assessment," George assured her solemnly. "Without it, I can't provide conclusive results about your infidelity risk."

Before she could object further, George slowly pushed two fingers into her wet channel. Rebecca's back arched slightly as she released a shuddering breath.

"Ohh," she moaned softly, then immediately bit her lip as if embarrassed by her vocal response.

"Vocalization during penetration testing," George noted clinically, even as he began pumping his fingers in and out of her increasingly wet pussy. "Another high-risk indicator."

Rebecca's internal muscles clenched around his probing fingers, her body betraying her despite her mental resistance. George curved his fingers upward, searching for her G-spot with practiced precision.

"I'm going to test your orgasmic threshold now," he explained, increasing the pace of his fingers while his thumb resumed its circles on her clit. "Low orgasmic threshold with non-spouse stimulation correlates strongly with infidelity probability."

"No, I shouldn't—" Rebecca began, but her protest dissolved into a moan as George's fingers found their target within her. Her hips began moving subtly, unconsciously seeking more stimulation.

"Your body is responding very readily," George observed, his free hand moving to pinch one of her nipples while his other hand continued its relentless attention between her legs. "This is a severe risk indicator, Rebecca."

Rebecca's breathing had become shallow and rapid, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around George's fingers. He could tell she was approaching orgasm despite her best efforts to resist.

"I need to measure your orgasmic response intensity," George said, increasing the pressure and speed of his ministrations. "Don't fight it—resistance skews the results."

"I can't—with someone who's not—" Rebecca gasped, her thighs beginning to tremble.

"This is exactly why you're high-risk," George explained, his voice taking on an urgent quality. "Your body is ready to climax for someone who isn't your husband. In an uncontrolled environment, this would likely result in infidelity."

As if his words had broken the last of her resistance, Rebecca's back suddenly arched and she cried out, her pussy contracting powerfully around George's fingers as orgasm swept through her. George continued his stimulation throughout her climax, drawing out her pleasure while maintaining his clinical observation.

"Significant orgasmic response," he noted as Rebecca's body gradually relaxed, her chest heaving. "I'm afraid this confirms my suspicions, Rebecca. You're in the highest risk category for infidelity."

Rebecca's eyes, which had been closed during her orgasm, opened to stare at him in alarm. "What? What does that mean?"

"It means we need to conduct the full physical assessment protocol," George explained gravely, beginning to unbutton his shirt. "Your responses indicate critical vulnerability that requires comprehensive intervention."