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Hard Rain

      CyberCzar - CyberCzar@HushMail.com mailto:CyberCzar@HushMail.com

Legal Notices

This document contains frank discussions of a sexually-explicit nature, and
is intended for mature audiences only.

The persons depicted in this story are entirely fictional.

Any similarities are completely coincidental.

References to actual places, companies, or organizations are used strictly
for artistic reference to provide realism.

In other words, none of this is true.

This document should not be construed to provide any relation between the
author and such places or organizations.

Copyright

Copyright (c) 2001 by CyberCzar - CyberCzar@HushMail.com. This material may
be distributed only subject to the terms and conditions set forth in the
Open Publication License, v1.0 or later (the latest version is presently
available at http://www.opencontent.org/openpub/).

Commercial redistribution of Open Publication-licensed material is
permitted.

Distribution of substantively modified versions of this document is
prohibited without the explicit permission of the copyright holder.

Distribution of the work or derivative of the work in any standard (paper)
book form is prohibited unless prior permission is obtained from the
copyright holder.

Preface

Stories

     From: "**********" <**********@hotmail.com>

     To: CyberCzar@HushMail.com

     Date: Thu, 17 May 2001 11:22:00 -0700

     I noticed your author bio on asstr and was very interested by it.
     You mentioned a desire to have people pass on requests. I have
     talked to many different people over the last year about my own
     desires and a few people said they were very interested in my
     ideas, some even said they might develop my ideas into a story,
     but these people have all disappeared, never to be heard from
     again. I know my fantasies are a tad - weird, but I don't think
     they are anything totally bizarre or really honestly freaky. So if
     your interested in what I'm about to say, keep reading, if not,
     well thanks and PLEASE keep writing :)

     Okay, well the thing is, I like women to be dominate, really
     powerful.

     Total power over me. It thrills me to be totally dominated, with
     no control, no hope, just living a life of servitude and slavery
     to a woman, women, either one powerful women or a whole WORLD
     filled with dominate women. But what do these women want? I mean
     if they are going to all that trouble to dominate me, taking all
     that effort and time to even acknowledge my existence...there must
     be something I can provide them.

     So in my fantasies, that is cum. My semen.

     That is the only thing they care about. I'm not a man to them, I'm
     just a cock. They milk me, they have me, I'm their play thing that
     gives them fresh cum to drink and play with. They have no concern
     for me as a person, they just love that cum. When I imagine a
     whole world of dominate women, I have strict quotas, I have to
     produce cum for their business or their schemes, and I'm treated
     like you'd treat any business resource. when I'm dealing with the
     idea of one powerful woman, it's just her thing. Maybe she likes
     to bath in cum, or loves the taste. Whatever it is, I'm under her
     power and I need to make cum for her.

     That's the basic idea. I don't know how that sounds to you or
     anything, probably nuts, but I'm curious. What do you think? If
     you're still reading, thanks again, and have a great day! :)

Prologue

A lot of men can't get enough sex. The burning, yearning, desire in their
loins to procreate. The sexual drive is probably the most basic of urges
throughout the known Universe. When some men can't seem to get enough sex,
they resort to other outlets and means to obtain that longing climax.

But too much of a good thing can also have disastrous results. What happens
when a society builds up their entire civilization around sex, or the
byproducts thereof? Will it survive?

1. SoS

     ``Captain's Log, StarDate .... who the fuck knows. I just left
     Orpheus Prime where I dropped off a load of Ketallian Brandy. The
     bartender at the depot mentioned that Keltic Four is looking for
     some cargo ships to haul some weapons from there to the Inubrian
     Outpost.

     Risky job, I know, because of the inherent risks of pirates and
     marauders, but the pay is good.

     Since my landlord said she's going to evict me if I don't have my
     full rent come the end of this month, I really don't have a
     choice. Maxwell, out.''

John Maxwell was an average Joe trying to make living. Torn over the loss of
his last girlfriend, when he found out she was really a Heletic Daemon
camouflaged to appear humanoid (hey, she almost bit off his head during an
argument ... literally) he was love-lost and heart-broken.

The job at the Inubrian Outpost seemed like a dream come true. By hauling
one load for these guys, he'd make enough money in two weeks than he'd make
in an entire trimester.

John decided to take it easy for the ride across the sector, he wouldn't be
expected for another 48 hours, and he took this time to run diagnostics and
make minor repairs on his ship's defense systems. The threat of pirates and
marauders was all too real, as he'd only narrowly escaped a brush with both
only once before each time.

While listening to some MP32s, piped through his ship's comm system, his
melodic journey soon became interrupted when the all-too-familiar wail of a
distress call beamed out of the speakers.

Scurrying back to his cockpit, he flipped the switches which piped the call
through the speakers.

``Hello? Is anybody out there?'' a female voice could be heard through his
ship's speakers. ``This is Captain Fern Viger of the Ule Marou, I'm in need
of help and assistance. Can anybody hear me?''

Intrigued as to what could be the matter, Johm answered the distress call
using the sub-space antenna to broadcast his reply across the vastness of
space. ``This is John Maxwell of the ... well ... This is John, how can I
help you?''

Scratchy and with a lot of static, the woman sounded relieved as she began
her reply. ``John ... Maxwell ... My name is Fern Viger. My ship is
immobile, and I'm adrift. Can you give me a tow?''

``What class is your ship?'' he replied. If her ship was too large, his
tractor beam wouldn't be able to tow it and he'd have to radio AAAAA.

``Class 4 cruiser,'' she replied.

He couldn't help but chuckle when he heard this. ``Ma'am, that's not a ship,
that's an escape pod,'' he said, muting the mic so he could laugh some more.
``Transmit your coordinates and I'll see what I can do.''

Seconds later, he received the coordinates on his screen and noticed she was
only three parsecs away from his current position. ``I can be there in a
half-hour, sit tight.''

Altering course, he headed to her coordinates. He wasn't worried about
helping her, since he had plenty of time to kill before having to be at his
destination. In fact, he purposely chose to drive there at impulse speeds
only so it would take him longer.

He slowly made it into the sector where she had given him and quickly
scanned for ships and vessels. Immediately, his ship detected her vessel,
1/10th of a light-year from where she had originally given him,

``You're drifting awfully fast,'' he radioed to her as he headed to her next
destination. ``I should catch up to you in about five minutes.''

``Thank you, John. Hurry! I'm scared.''

Speeding to her destination, he engaged his ship's grappling beam which
stabilized her ship and brought it under his hull. Once her ship was docked,
and secured, he opened up the airlock and climbed down the rungs into her
vessel.

As he entered her vessel, he noticed her black hair flowing long past her
shoulders as her back was facing him. ``Hello?'' he said as he reached the
floor.

Smoothly, she turned around in her cabin to face him.

She was a thing of beauty he thought to himself. Long, flowing, black hair;
deep brown eyes, smooth olive skin, and a well endowed chest which didn't
quite fit her flight suit.

``Terran-system?'' he asked her.

``Excuse me?''

``Are you from the Terran system? Earth?''

``No, I'm afraid not. Why do you ask?''

``Your appearance. You resemble a race of people from Earth. Northeastern
quadrant... Asia, I think it's called.''

``I'm from Jalapillia.''

John just stood there for a moment, his eyes fixated on her bosom.

``I'm sorry,'' he said, becoming self-conscious of his gazing. ``I'm John.''

``Fern Viger.''

``Well, let's see if we can't get you underway, shall we?'' he said, turning
about to head to her engine compartment.

Inside the rear of her ship lay the machinery which propelled Fern's ship
across the Galaxy. With a Class 4 Cruiser, John knew her main propulsion
would be impulse drives, since she was only capable of Warp 1.

Looking around, it was quite obvious to him what her problem was; one of the
distributor wires leading to the impulse spark plugs was removed so her
impulse engine couldn't fire normally. Repairing the problem, he left the
engine compartment, and walked back up to the front to find the myserious
woman sitting at the table in the back portion of her cab.

``Well, I found your problem.'' he said gleefully. ``Try to start her up.''

Fern walked to the pilot area and turned the key. After several violent
shakes, her engines emitted a very smooth, and low hum.

She jumped up, ran over to him, and gave him a big hug. ``Thank you very
much!'' she said. ``How can I repay you?''

``Ma'am, it was nothing.''

``I think I have a way,'' she said to him, running her fingers down his
shirt.

``What are you doing?'' he asked, as she was unbuttoning his shirt.

John offered little resistance as the woman pushed him down onto the couch.
As she reached her hand into his pants, she was pleasantly surprised to find
out John was a Stolac.

``Wonderful! Two for the price of one,'' she said. Stolacs are a race of
humanoids with two genital appendages, formed in a Y shape from between
their legs. Fern undid his pants, and took both of his appendages in her
hands. She could feel a warmth and stiffness come over them as his blood
slowly flowed deeper within them.

Like two hands on a yoke, she knelt in front of him and gently massaged the
head of each one with her thumbs.

John couldn't help but let out a pleasurable moan, still not fully believing
this was happening to him. ``Fuck, I need to answer more distress calls in
the future!'' he said to himself.

Taking one of his appendages in her mouth, she used her other hand to gently
stroke his other.

Down, she went onto him, taking it's full length in her mouth. As she lifted
her head up, she moved her hand down his other shaft. When her head reached
the divide of his shafts, she gently stroked the main shaft.

All this pleasure was proving too much for John to handle; and as his three
gonads retreated into his pelvis, he let out an eruptive burst shooting his
hot jism deep into her mouth, and onto her back.

This, of course, was what Fern was waiting for, and as she tasted the warm,
milky-blue, substance which continued to pour out of him, she knew he would
be perfect for what she had in mind.

``Mmmm,'' she let out, as she rolled her tongue through the jism in her
mouth. To her, John's jism tasted like hiloberry wine.

She got up, and wiped some of the blue jism which was running down her
cheek, savoring it by licking her fingers and hand. A slow stream of blue
aftercum was still gently flowing down the undersides of John's genital
appendages.

``I've never given a blowjob to a stolac before,'' she said. ``That was
wonderful!''

Messy, his species was. In order to help ensure their survival, stolac males
had evolved to produce an exhorbitant amount of semen each time they
climaxed. This was the reason, geneticists hypothesized, why they had two
genital appendages; to handle the volume and pressure of their climactic
eruptions.

John waited, in a blissful state, for his climax to end when he saw Fern
point a weapon towards him.

``What's going on?'' he said, as he struggled to get his pants on. But,
before John realized what was happening, Fern fired her weapon rendering him
unconscious.

2. Prisoner

When John awoke and opened his eyes, he found himself in a long, narrow
room. He was naked, and bound, to a table which was slightly reclined. He
could see about twenty women walking about the room, all naked, wearing
nothing but white lab coats.

Then he noticed something sinister! To his left, his right, and lining the
opposite wall, were hundreds of other men. They were naked, as he, and all
bound.

John looked across the room at two women hovering over a human male. He was
young, probably not more than 21, and the women were placing electrodes on
the man's head and chest. That didn't shock him nearly as much as what he
saw the women do next.

A woman placed her gloved hand onto the man's penis, and gently rolled her
thumb over its head. The man's penis soon became engorged and stiff. With
the man's cock lying flat against his stomach, another woman gently grabbed
it and inserted a long catheter deep inside.

Next to the man, he could see another which was undergoing surgery. Women
doctors had operated on the other man, and inserted valves and tubes inside
him. One was thin, and the other much thicker.

As John followed the tubes to see where they led, he read two signs above
the table. The thin tube led to a valve maked, Urine Collection and the
thicker tube to a valve marked, Solid Waste Collection.

John was becoming horrified at witnessing all this take place and he called
out to his captors. ``What's going on here?'' he said.

Immediately, and upon hearing his voice, all the women in the room stopped
what they were doing and rushed over to him.

``How is he awake?'' one woman said.

``I don't know, zap him again.'' said another.

John couldn't help but become scared at the frenzy which was happening to
him. ``Wait! What's going on?'' he said, but the women ignored him.

One woman came over with a device which loosely resembled a gun.

``Stop!'' he cried out, but his words were being ignored.

As the woman with the gun aimed it at his head, he saw a brief flash of
light, and went to sleep.

When he awoke, he found himself on a beach, with waves gently rolling into
the shore. Wearing nothing but shorts, he got up quickly and examined his
body for scars or other markings.

Exhausted, and tired from the heat of the pounding sun, he couldn't stay
conscious, and collapsed.

Suddenly, he felt cold water dripping onto his forehead and face which
startled him. He awoke to find himself inside a room made entirely of
vegetation; straw, bamboo, thatch.

Focusing his eyes, he saw a beautiful woman peering over him.

``He's awake!'' she called out, as two more women rushed into the hut.

``Where am I?'' he asked, groggy and tired.

``You're on Reesa,'' the woman smiled and said.

``How did I get here?'' he started to say, before he was interrupted.

``Shhh,'' another woman said. ``We need to get you cleaned up.''

The three women escorted him out of bed, and over to a make-shift shower.
One of the women undid the button to his shorts, and gently pulled them
down. Stepping out, he stood naked, in the middle of the sqaure, as the last
woman began using a pump which poured warm water which came from a sistern
on the room, onto his head.

The two other women used large leaves and spread berries onto his body as
they joined him in the shower and started to wash him.

Warm water flowed steadily from above as it rained down on the three. Beads
of water glistened down the women's chest and drip off their erect nipples.

He couldn't help but become aroused at the sensuous beauty which surrounded
him which the women were quick to notice.

With the two women taking an appendage in each of their hands, they smeared
berry juice all over his long, thick, shafts; massaging them, and getting
him clean.

John started to feel a tingle build up inside of him, as his two prostates
started to get engorged and without restraint, he couldn't help it as his
knees buckled and he exploded yet again.

This time however, nothing came out of him. No forceful jets of milky-blue
jism spraying his female caretakers on their faces. No steady stream
afterwards.

John blacked out for just a moment, and when he awoke he discovered why.

He was in a cool room, illuminated only by monitoring displays and guages,
and a single light peering down onto him. A loud hum could be heard coming
from afar.

He struggled to focus his eyes as he looked down at his torso and saw the
catheters in his genitals.

He could see air bubbles intermixed with the thick blue fluid his body
produced from pleasure as they traveled up the tubes. His hips were spasming
uncontrollably as he felt vibrations coming from within him; a long wire
coming from between his legs.

He wasn't in any pain, in fact, he was having a rather long orgasm. As the
vibrations inside his rectum altered in intensity, he could feel the muscles
in his groin push even more jism out of him, and up the tube.

His eyes followed the tubes up to the ceiling where he found a rather thick,
and clear, tube running along the length of the room. Red, white, blue, and
green fluid was intermixed in this tube as the fluids flowed steadily along
the tube's path.

Nervous, he let his eyes wander around the room, and as far as he could see
there were literally thousands, if not tens of thousands, of other men like
him, stapped in, naked, their hips gyrating, and coming.

John tried to speak, to call out, but couldn't as he realized yet another
tube was forced down his throat.

Just then, he heard a loud buzz, looked up, and saw a brown liquid being
forced down his, and all the other captives, throats. Suddenly, an intense
wave came over him, and he blacked out.

3. The Stage

He awoke to find himself on a stage, surrounded by at least a hundred Earth
women.

Loud music was playing, and a spotlight was shining on him. The women were
chanting, ``Take it off! Take it off!'' and they seemed to be yelling at
him.

Dazed, and confused, he looked at himself, and found he was wearing some
type of uniform. It was completely white, with black and gold emblems on the
cuffs and shoulders.

``Take it off! Take it off!'' the women continued to chant, and John started
to make out the words to the music.

``In the Navy, where you can sail the seven-seas. In the Navy, where you can
put your mind at ease...'' he heard the performers sing.

Not knowing what to do, John started to unbutton his shirt, revealing a
firm, muscled chest.

The women in the audience started to go wild with his actions, and John was
starting to enjoy the attention.

Taking his shirt completely off, he threw it into the audience and couldn't
help but find it humorous as several women fought to obtain it.

He writhed his hips to the beat of the music, as one woman jumped on the
stage to join him.

She knelt down in front of him, and ripped his pants off.

He noticed he wasn't wearing any underwear, and he also noticed he only had
one penis this time.

Suddenly, the room he was in started to spin, and flashes of blue and red
light filled his entire field of view. He couldn't keep his balance, and as
he fell, he landed onto soft pillows, in a room lit only by candlelight.

Eight women converged on him immediately, running the fingers and hands
across his body. He wasn't sure which one it was, but he felt two distinct
hands on his genitals.

Getting up, he pushed some of the women aside and looked down between his
legs to see the familiar Y shape of his sexual organs.

The women didn't say anything, as one woman pushed him back down onto the
pillows.

He felt two distinct lips and tongues on his organs, as each one was sucking
and licking them.

One woman even positioned herself under the other two and began to lick the
base half of his shaft.

Again, John couldn't control it, as his body tensed up and he felt like he
erupted. However, the women continued with their pleasures, still licking
and sucking him, even after his violent shakes stopped.

Confused, he pulled his sex organs out of their mouth and again, as before,
nothing came out.

Several women pinned him down as they resumed thier touch onto his body.

Another woman stuck her long finger up his ass as she gently massaged his
prostates.

This brought him into a sexual fury as he could distinctly feel his muscles
forcing vast amounts of cum out of him.

The women's mouths were still wrapped around his shafts, and as he pulled
his organs out, again he noticed nothing came out.

Tired, he offered up little resistance as the women continued their sexual
foray on him.

He awoke to find a beautiful young woman standing at the head of the table
which he was bound to reading the guages which were above his head. Unable
to speak, he let out a soft moan which startled her.

``Uh oh,'' she said. ``You're not supposed to be conscious. I better call
for help.''

Violently, he shook his head, tears flowing out the corners of his eyes.

He closed his eyes and grimaced as the devices he was attached to forced yet
another orgasm out of him, and several milky-blue loads of jism up the
tubes.

He tried to ask her for help, but could only grunt since the tube down his
throat was preventing any speech.

``Are you trying to say something?'' the woman asked.

He nodded.

Just then an alarm sounded, and a red light started flashing over one of the
other prisoners. ``Hold that thought,'' the woman said as she ran to where
the problem was.

John turned his head and could see Kitarin male thrashing violently on his
table. Kitarin men had the largest sex organs of any humanoids in the galaxy
which were a full one meter long, and two meters in circumference. Standing
completely perpendicular to their bodies when erect, apparently the cathode
which was inserted in this specimen had fallen out.

Unfortunately, the woman was a second or two too late before inserting it
back in when the subject erupted, dousing her with about two liters worth of
his jism with each eruption.

Just then, he heard a loud bang as all the lights where he was being kept
came on. Temporarily blinded, he closed his eyes.

He could hear a woman off in the distance, followed by many, many footsteps.

``Right this way, ladies! Single file. That's it. Ok, can everyone hear me?
Good! We are now standing on one of the floors here at Processing Facility
Three. On this floor, and the other 24 in this building, lie one-thousand
male volunteers. Follow me, girls.''

He heard a shuffle of footsteps which came closer to him. ``We're walking!
We're walking!'' the first woman said. ``And now we're stopping. Okay girls,
if you look on both sides of you you'll have a better look at our male
volunteers. Our volunteers reside here, in this state-of-the-art
climate-controlled facility where they receive constant stimulation to
produce the raw materials for our society. Are there any questions?''

``I have one!'' a woman off in the distance yelled. ``How are they
stimulated?''

``Good question!'' the first woman replied. ``If you look on their heads,
you'll see eight electrodes. Our mainframe computers send special signals to
their brains which create a stimulating and arousal experience for our
volunteers. Ok, now, let's walk. We're walking, we're walking. Watch where
you step, please! It appears we've had an accident.''

``Excuse me, miss!'' another woman cried out.

``Go ahead.''

``Can we touch them?''

``Just be careful not to pull on any wires.''

John could hear footsteps scatter about the room and felt two sets of hands
on his body.

``I've never seen a man before,'' whispered one girl who was standing over
him.

``Look here!'' cried out another, grasping onto the base of his sex organ.
``He's got two!''

Without warning, the vibrator inside his anus kicked in, and his brain
received the necessary impulses. John kept his eyes closed as a wave of
pleasure overtook him, and he erupted again.

``Oh my!'' the first one cried out. ``Something's wrong!''

He could hear footsteps running towards him. ``What seems to be the
problem?''

``He's shaking!'' the other woman said.

Laughing, the guide replied, ``There's nothing wrong with him, he's
producing more juice.''

``Most humanoid men can only produce about 25 ml each day, but with our
advanced technology, they're all able to produce, at a minimum, 1 liter. Of
course, some species produce more than others.''

He heard footsteps walking away from him as he reopened his eyes. The next
sounds he heard were those of running water and a mop.

He could see the same woman from before mopping up the mess caused by the
Kitarian's climax. He grunted again to try to get the woman's attention.

She walked over to him, but not before the building's machinery forced him
to orgasm again.

Letting out a moan as the orgasms were intensifying, his gonads again
retracted into him, as he arched his back up, and forced more fluid out of
him.

When his orgasm finished, he relaxed and saw the woman standing over him.

``You know, you really should be unconscious.''

He tried to maneuver his fingers and pointed to his head. His wrists were
restrained, but the woman manged to understand what he was trying to do.

She pulled his head back and gently pulled out the tube which was inserted
all the way down his esophagus.

His throat sore, he could only muster a whisper as he asked her, ``Why are
you doing this to me?''

``It's the law,'' she replied. ``All men must produce. You help provide
electricity, and raw materials for our society.''

She spent the next hour talking with him about how their civilization,
stripped of natural resources, turned to technology to sustain them.
Scientists had devised a way of splitting the nucleus of the male sperm to
create an extreme energy source. The process was clean, and efficient,
producing protein as a byproduct which could either be consumed, or was
naturally biodegradable.

But John learned that their society became increasinly more dependent on
this sperm-fision energy as more and more plants were created across their
globe. They needed more and more sperm to provide enough fuel to sustain
their civilization's growing energy demands. That's when they started
bringing men from across the galaxy in, to help them with their supply.

After generations, their society became matriarchical, and most of the
inhabitants turned into lesbians since there were no male influences on
their lives.

Fertilized by artificial insemination, all women were requried to produce at
least two young, and if they had boys, they were to be enturned and trained
to be added to the supply stream.

She finished with her explanation, and tried to put the feed tube back in
him. He was scared, and outraged at what was happening to him, and all the
other men in his company; but his resistance was futile. She grabbed a stun
gun and zapped him, rendering him again, unconscious.

4. Purgatory

John spent the next several weeks confined, stimulated, dazed, and
exhausted.

Sexual climaxes take a lot out of a man, and being forced to orgasm four
times each hour for weeks on end was draining him physically, emotionally,
and sexually.

His alien captors had to remix the nutrient supply they were feeding him so
his body could keep up with their demand. He was ingesting pure protein,
vitamins, and minerals at this point. His body concerned them in only one
regard: the production of semen.

He was also no longer having fantasies. His body, immune to the psychiatric
effects of the alien's computers which tried to force him into several
various fantasies was having no effect any more. He just layed on his table,
restrained, and in a state of pleasurable orgasmic consciousness.

One day, red lights and a siren flashed around him as workers rushed to his
floor. The pipe which ran down the length of the corridor ruptured due to
the increasing pressure and volume of semen which it was now carrying.

On the floor lay gallons and gallons of sticky juice from he, and his other
male captive counterparts as the women tried desperately to patch and clean
it up. John wondered if any of his fellow captives were aware of what was
happening like he was.

Another day, a female worker accidentally brushed the underside of the
Kitarian man who was also on the same floor with him, sending him into
another sexual frenzied eruption. The build up of semenic pressure inside
his loins forced out the cathode which was only reinserted into his genitals
two weeks prior, causing him to shoot his load clear across the room,
hitting another man. He couldn't help but smile at the predicament the
Kitarian was in, and how humorous he found it. Later on that week, two
female workers approached his bed.

``Remove the cathode from his left appendage,'' one worker said.

``What are you going to do, Tera?'' said another.

``I need to sample his output to make sure the quality is holding up.''

He felt a burning sensation in his left organ as he felt the woman grab his
shaft and pull out the catheter. ``He's not due for another ejection for 5
minutes.'' said the first.

The two women spent the next several minutes chatting about their work, and
lovers.

``I can't believe how much semen prices are rising,'' said Tera.

``What do you mean, Hela?''

``I bought a new cruiser, when I went to fill it up at the fuel station,
semen prices were 25 credits per liter!''

``Look, he's twitching.''

``Good, he must almost be ready for his ejection.'' Hela said as she placed
her lips around the head of his shaft.

Like clockwork, John felt a buildup of sexual tension in his loins as his
three gonads again retracted into his pelvis. Arching his hips, and tensing
up, he was powerless to prevent the release of his sexual juices as they
were expelled, with great force, out of his organs.

Hela wasn't quite prepared for the voracity and amount of fluid which was
expelled from him, and tried desperately to ingest it as fast as it was
coming but was having little luck. As large amounts of John's semen flowed
out of him, into her mouth, blue milky juice spilled out and ran down her
cheek.

``Mmmmm,'' Hela said. ``Perfect!''

``How come I never get to do any quality control?'' asked Tera.

``Rank does have its privileges, my dear,'' she said, as she was wiping off
the excess with her fingers. ``Go ahead and reinsert the cathode, I'll be in
my office masturbating.''

A slow stream of John's love juice was still coming out from his left shaft.
``Rank my ass,'' Tera said. ``She's only got her rank because she's rug
munching with her boss.''

John was startled next when he felt a wet tongue on his shaft.

``Better get you cleaned up,'' she said as she started to lick him.

This was a sensation he hadn't felt in a very long time, and couldn't help
but moan in response to the pleasures he was feeling.

``You obviously like this,'' she said. Running her tongue through his
pee-hole she couldn't help but exclaim, ``God, you taste so good!''

She positioned herself so she could rest her chin on his stomach, and gently
take his shaft into her mouth. Like a baby suckling on a mother's nipple,
the sucked on his hard flesh, drawing the last remaining drops of his blue
juice from deep inside him. Satisfied he was milked dry, she reinserted the
cathode deep within his shaft, patted him on his chest, and walked away.

5. Climax

The next several days were uneventful.

He lay on his table, mostly with his eyes closed, and wondered if he'd ever
get out of his hell-hole, and wished he was dead.

He had no life left in him. No home to go back to, no job, and no love.

Steady streams of tears were now a regular occurance with him as his
emotions were getting the best of him.

He learned to not fight anything anymore. Resistance, in this case, was
futile.

Like clockwork, he began to feel a tingling sensation in his loins, as his
body was unnaturally forced to generate more semen. Only this time, the
tingling felt different.

It was stronger, more intense.

Higher and higher his hips arched up uncontrollably.

Alarms sounded all over the place.

Lights turned on.

All around he could see his fellow captives experiencing the same thing as
he. Dull moans coming from thousands of men.

Stronger, the sensations became.

His cock was even more stiff than before, pressing hard against his stomach.

The Kitarian's cock was even forced closer to his body; unnatural for a
Kitarian, definitely. He could see visible throbbing of the man's 3 foot
organ throbbing up and down with each of his heart-beats.

Louder and louder the moans were heard.

The human male across from his was starting to shake violently on his table.

The Nechian male's cock was actually growing larger.

Still, there was no climax yet.

Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

He couldn't stand the pleasure anymore, his balls were aching.

Yearning for their release.

His heart raced, his breathing became fast and shallow.

Pleasure turning into pain.

His cock was turning blue, his blood pressure rising.

A loud vibration could be heard as the prostate stimulators on all the men
kicked in simultaneously.

Loud cries, grunts, and moans coming from him, and everybody.

Suddenly, they all erupted.

Liters, and gallons of semen expelled from their bodies simultaneously.

Thrashing.

Bucking.

Kicking.

More and more alarms sounded. The flow of running fluid could be heard as
pipes began to burst under their extreme pressure.

Struggling, he managed to break free from his reins. Ripping out the tube
which was inserted down his throat, he was able to swallow for the first
time in over a month.

He also ripped out the cathodes which were inserted into his penises.
Streams of jism shot out of him from both of his shafts, spraying him, and
the floor.

He managed to unbuckle his feet restraints. When he got on the floor, he
found massive puddles of his, and his patriot's jism.

Buckling under the sensations he was still feeling, he almost collapsed. His
legs extremely weak.

Several other men had managed to free themselves from their binds and like
him, were helping other men to escape.

They all were still orgasming, spraying their hot, sticky juices all over
the place.

The Kitarian man was quick to run out of the room, which none of the other
captives minded. His jets were so powerful, and he was ejecting so much cum,
he was getting everybody wet.

Just then, the overhead pipe burst, releasing even more jism as it got the
thousand men drenched.

They found a staircase, where they were met with thousands of other men, all
hard, and all climaxing, as they rushed to find an exit. The stairs were so
slippery from the volume of jism being expelled by all these men that they
were tripping all over each other on their way down.

John was relieved to find he was only on the second floor of the building.

He ran into a field which was behind the building and joined several
thousand other men who had created a group. Looking back, he was stunned at
the sheer mass and size of the building he was once in. It stood over 25
stories tall, and each floor was the size of three football fields.

More and more men followed after him, all naked, all continously climaxing.

The ground was becoming saturated with semen. Sticky mud was forming. Word
began to spread throughout the group that someone found a stream and
waterfall not far from where the men stood, and they all followed eachother
towards the woods.

Ten men at a time jumped into the stream and under the waterfall to shower
for the first time in months. Downstream, the water became polluted as
male's juices were washed off and flushed away.

John stayed under the cold water for several minutes, and he found it
refreshing and invigorating.

Surprisingly, the water had an unexpected effect on him and the rest of the
men. It's coldness diminshed their libidos, stopped them all from orgasming,
and cause all of their cocks to return to normal.

Groups of fifty started to form in the water as they all bathed and washed.
Retreating to the shore across the stream, the men gathered to relax and
regain their strength.

John noticed the Kitarian off in the distance, alone. He was amazed at how
small his cock was now that it wasn't aroused.

For once, in many many months, their dreams were not sexual, as night befell
upon them and they had a restful sleep.

Epilogue

A society that bases itself on one resource to sustain itself is doomed to
fail.

Without raw materials to generate electricity, factories and industries were
destroyed. Markets crumbled.

In fact, it was this society's own greed for more energy which proved to be
their eventual undoing.

All the power plants had shut down, devoid now of fuel to sustain them.

What the men didn't realize was that the stream they bathed in, the cold
fluid which brought back their manhood, was the central water supply for the
City.

Polluted now with thousands of gallons of semen, now washed off the men's
bodies, there was no more potable water.

Their one resource which probably could have saved them, was now milked dry.
Because of months; and for some, years, of abuse and mistreatment, even
their own male citizens were now infertile.

A society full of women with no men to pregnate them. No way to continue on.

Can it be of no surprise that in only 100 years the entire civilization died
off?

But what happened to our men?

Fortunately for them, some had overpowered a subspace transmission station
and had radioed the Federation for help.

Aware now of the atrocities which took place on their planet, the Federation
was not very inclined to help the female citizens of this world.

The men slowly regained their lives. Most got married and adopted children
which were in need of homes.

Every once in awhile someone, somewhere, walks into a bar and recognizes one
of their comrades. Nothing is said between them as the two share a drink,
for they have shared something together most people in this galaxy can only
have nightmares if they discover, and their bonds are now more stronger than
words.

Credits

Special thanks to one man, somewhere, who wrote me last week suggesting this
story.

Concerned that perhaps he might be the only one out here who shared his
views, I assured him he wasn't. Finding others, he said, was extremely
difficult.

I've included his original Email to me in the preface of this story (with
his address masked out for privacy reasons.) If you share some of the same
fantasies as this young writer does, feel free to contact me, and I'll
forward your note to him.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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