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HARD RAIN cum for their business their


Adult Fiction

Hard Rain

CyberCzar -

June 2, 2001

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 (c) 2001 by CyberCzar -

See for the latest license



From: `\"{}**********`\"{} <**********>


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! :)


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?


"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

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.


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.

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.


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

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.


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




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.


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.


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.


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