Livestock

Apparently when my semen was analyzed, the results came back quite favorable. So favorable in fact, I was too important to simply be pumped by a machine. My cum was too valuable. I was taken to the Salon to be milked by hand.

This, if anything, was more excruciating in its way. The Salon almost lived up to its name. The furniture was cushy and the equipment was of a finer quality. Instead of a tube this time, I was given a special tub. And a partner. She was fresh like me, as far as I could tell. And the made us take turns. I think we were on hour shifts.

A cut above the others, we had the privilege of standing over our own basin to keep our samples pure. One was made to stand by special elastic restraint straps in the floor, cock over the basin, while the other was seated beneath her, tasked with eating her cunt. Each pair was between two basins, so when we were made to switch I was simply moved to sit with my back against hers while she was stood up over my face. I didn't get bondage stiffness, but standing like that for an hour is hard. When standing (and being licked), we would periodically be seen to by live handlers, who would expertly masturbate me into the basin in front of me, filling it with my cum over the course of the day. I don't know how that much fluid came out of my body, although we were actually given breaks to recharge, fed a paste through tubes inserted in our ring gags of a substance that tasted like it included fruit of some kind. This seemed to allow us to continue producing cum when we were strapped back into position.

It was more like actual work than just being an object. I couldn't tell which was worse, but the feeling of watching helplessly as another woman's hand, whose job is to make you cum for a living, moves over your cock while another slave's face is buried in your vagina is possibly more humiliating than surrendering to a machine.

Our handlers worked in pairs, one would release my cock, the others would tease my breasts from behind, or insert things into my anus to speed the process. The women were naked, and used no lubricant beyond my own pre-cum and no tools to rub the head of my penis but their own soft hands, as any clothing or lubricants or masturbators would compromise the purity. Also, notably, our hands were cuffed behind our heads in this place, not behind our backs. I may never know why.

After my second day of this, I heard them discussing my suitability for use as breeding stock.

It was even worse than it sounds.

Specimens like us cannot impregnate one another. But new hermaphrodite girls have to come somewhere.

I've come to understand (and not because they sit me down and teach me, I have to overhear and guess it all, it takes while) that our deformity is due to a genetic mutation, a dominant gene that can only be passed on to "normal" females. As such, my captors have a breeding program in place to birth new futa women, and place them in society to be recovered later. When selecting carriers they seem to recruit from within. In fact, my first was Dr. Bell.

Apparently they found proof she was sampling the product somehow.

It was insidious. The chamber they led me into was supplied with numerous sinister instruments, some of which were attached to a familiar woman on the rack in the middle. It held her on her back, legs spread straight out and wide open, bound to the apparatus with numerous black straps, including one around her forehead. Her head was held up so she could see her own body, and the monitors around the room showing the feed from the cameras recording the procedure. She was being made an example of. This is what happens to employees who steal.

She was already half unhinged, there were chrome attachments affixed to her nipples and clitoris buzzing away, her eyes rolled back from being overstimulated for however long brought her to optimum fertility, her gaping pussy shiny with lubricant, needles in her arms probably drugging her out of her mind and causing the rosy flush in her skin. No gag, just an oxygen mask. She was twitching a little when the two doctors brought me in. One held me while the other removed Bell's vibrators, letting her breathe again and her eyes focus on me. I could see it. She remembered. They led me between her legs. One held the head of my cock to her lips, and the other pushed me in. She was hot and wet inside. Some kind of restraining belt was put around me to keep me in line, and something hard and slippery was inserted into my asshole. With a warning nudge from one of the control prods, the process began.

I didn't even fit in all the way. Her eyes rolled back and she grunted into the oxygen mask keeping her conscious as I stretched her open. She was the first vagina I've ever felt. And she felt good. I didn't take any prompting or education after that. I fucked her. I hadn't learned to control myself yet, and soon I screamed out and felt my cum fill her up, overflow and squirt out, trickling down my shaft.

I stood there a moment, breathing, both of us recovering. Bell couldn't look at me, eyes squeezed shut, panting, now even below the cattle she'd herded up until today. It wasn't even over. The plug in my ass started vibrating. I hadn't even gotten flaccid yet, so I was fully hard very soon after. And I was ready again. One of the attending doctors moved forward to "encourage" me, but I was already back at work. I didn't need help. I was enjoying this. I started thrusting deeper this time, harder, eliciting a high-pitched squeak with each push from my former tormentor. I was moaning differently this time. Like I wanted it. I came inside her again. It was getting all over the place now.

This continued for a while, but by about the fourth time I'd decided to take my time, and by the sixth time I'd figured out how.

Floating in my tank that night, before I passed out like I always do, I realized two things. The first was that I had just raped one of my tormentors until her toes curled and her eyelids started drooping. The second was that I'd impregnated her, and the child she had would be born into a life...like this one.

It was the first time I remember really crying.