Maybe Sperm Donation Has Some Other Compensation

I decided to see about the sperm donation. After all, blood donation usually earned people a little bit of cash. Being paid to pull myself off was worth the story, at the very least...

When I called the place, I was given an address and told to come in whenever it was convenient, so I went in right away, having nothing else better to do.

The building was in a larger commercial campus, pretty unassuming. But the suite number in the 'C' building wasn't in the 100s, 200s or 300s...it was SB01, which made me a little claustrophobic when I got into the elevator and went down from the ground floor.

B, MB, SB.

Sub-basement? I'd never been in an elevator with three basement levels. I didn't like it. I never like being underground, and three floors down, there wasn't going to be any window pits. No natural light at all.

What was weirder was that after the second *ding*, it seemed like a longer than usual gap before I hit my destination floor. My nerves were getting to me a little until the door opened up, revealing a warmly decorated reception office. I was a little relieved by the lighting, even though I knew I was probably about 10 meters underground.

"Good morning, sir." There was an attractive brunette behind a reception window. It seemed thicker than the usual plexiglass, and instead of a cutout at the bottom, there was a legitimate security drawer to pass papers through. She apparently noticed that I seemed a little lost. "You're here to be a donor, yes?"

"Uh, yeah--yes, I am," I told her, approaching the window. "Do you need me to fill anything out?" The security drawer slid out to me, and the woman behind the glass smiled. "No, sir. Just a photocopy of your license. Would you prefer your remuneration in cash, or check?" I placed my license in the box, and she pulled the shelf back.

"Uh, cash, please."

"Great. I'll have this for you here along with your payment once you've completed your donation," She smiled. It was a nice smile, too. Her auburn hair was done up in a bun, and her uniform was a tight enough fit that I noticed it. She smirked a little, and I wondered if she noticed me noticing it. "You can proceed to room two, through the door." There was a buzzer, and the heavy door next to her opened.

"The ad said something about typing, too, right? Like telling me if my, uh--if I'm healthy, I mean?"

"Yes. Once we have your results, details will be mailed to you at the address on your license. This is your current address, correct?" I nodded.

"Absolutely. Thanks!"

I made my way into a hallway where there were nine doors, apparent exam rooms on the left and right numbered one through eight, and a door at the very end with a RESTRICTED AREA placard on it. I headed to room two.

When the door shut behind me, I took a look around at the room. It was well designed, if nothing else. The led light strip near the ceiling was an indirect glow, and the color seemed to gently shift from a daylight to a reddish hue. I don't know why it seemed to put me at ease, but it did.

There was a large screen that took up a good part of the narrower wall, and some kind of headset on the table in front of it. The couch in front of it looked like it was upholstered in a very plush off-white vinyl. There was a knock at the door.

"Uh, come in?" I said, turning back to it. When it clicked open wide, the woman on the other side was preceded by a cart. Wow--automated doors, too. I guess I hadn't noticed the button outside when I opened it by hand.

And then I noticed the woman. Wow.

Jet black hair, tied in a bun. Eyes that flashed color, though I couldn't tell if it was blue, sea green, or near-violet from behind her glasses. Crimson lips, a buttoned-up body-hugging white jacket, and a skirt that seemed shorter than a professional setting would allow for. She was wearing dark glossy stockings and low block heels.

"Mister Henry?" She asked.

"Uh...yuh--yeah, that's me," I said. In addition to a couple things that looked like common plastic collection jars, she had a couple of other instruments that looked...interesting?

"I'm here to assist you," she said. If that was a joke, she didn't wear any indication on her face. She said the words about his clinically as she could.

"Uh — assist?" I wasn't trying to be immature, or creepy or anything...though it probably came off as both.

"Well, we're unique to other clinics of this kind in that we have a proprietary way of...maximizing our clients' potential." She motioned to the headset and the screen. "Some find it intrusive or off-putting, so we can always go the classic route and simply let you complete the task. However, I can offer you between double to fifty times your compensation depending on your results, if you allow us to do a rigorous analysis using our proprietary equipment."

"Fifty times?" I asked.

"That is, of course, an exceptional example. This figure isn't typical, but your compensation will be doubled no matter your results, and I've had a handful of subjects who have received five times the normal compensation just this past week."

"Can you maybe, give me a clue as to what's intrusive about it before I decide?" She nods and holds up a device that looks like a high-tech cock sleeve.

"You would recline in our couch, and this auto-stimulation receptacle would be placed over your penis," She said. "You'd be wearing our neural headset while being shown a series of images, videos, and keywords on the screen. As our system correlates data and basic eeg readings from the headset, your ekg electrodes, and the auto stimulation receptacle, you will be drawn down a path of increasingly captivating stimuli according to the stochastic readings." I do my best to translate this to caveman...

"So basically, you're going to suss out what turns me on and show me more of it." A smile. She gave me a tiny little smile!

"Precisely. It's understandable that some subjects would be more sensitive than others in revealing their...particular attractions to a clinical staff, but rest assured that this information is 100 percent confidential. As I said, our equipment is proprietary, and we intend on protecting it to the full extent of intellectual property law."

I'm into some slightly kinky things, but nothing that I'm too ashamed of, in this setting. Beside the prospect of doubling my money or more makes this a no-brainer.

"I mean, that sounds fine to me, but...can I ask the purpose of that?"

"We find that better physiological preparation produces better sperm. Without getting into too many clinical details, suffice it to say that a sufficiently sexually stimulated mind and body results in a more biologically resilient, higher quality seminal discharge." They picked the right woman for this job. I was mostly following the terminology without a problem, but her moist red lips were making even the driest jargon a lot more exciting. "So if you're certain you'd like to proceed, would you read through this as you like and simply sign with your finger when you're finished, please?" She held out a tablet, and I took it.

There were pages and pages of nondisclosure language regarding their equipment and methods, but also a pledge on their side protecting a subject's privacy, results, identity, etc. Like any other long-winded document when money is at stake, I glanced through it at the very minimum and signed the screen.

"All set," I said.

"Excellent," she said. "You can remove your pants and have a seat on the couch."

I know better than to make any stupid jokes, even though I think of some. This woman is incredibly attractive, which means that day after day, one appointment after the next, she has a thousand idiots just like me in these rooms making the same lame comments. I just take my pants off and sit on the couch, trying to relax.

"There's no time limit, and with the exception of your heart monitor data, you'll have total privacy. Just try and relax, do your best not to disturb the headset, and let the equipment do the rest." She placed the headset on my crown and adjusted it a little. It wasn't too intrusive with my short hair. "Any questions?"

"Uh, not that I can think of," I said. I looked down between my legs and quietly praised the Lord for my half-chub. It wasn't an embarrassingly raging boner, but it also wasn't totally flaccid. It was exactly as I'd want to present if this were anything but a clinical setting.

Of course the staffer doesn't react (like I said before, she seen a lot of guys, thus a lot of penises), and she simply takes me in one hand and slides me into the sleeve, resting it between my legs. It's not cold and not warm--as if its ambient temperature is self-regulating.

"When you're finished, please don't get up," She said. "Just relax, and we'll come and get you based on your readings."

"S-sounds good," You said. The screen turned on, the room darkened, and she left, shutting the door behind her.