Ever since the Castration Pogroms of the late '30s, there has been a shortage of healthy males willing to mate and reproduce. You would think that would make the ideal situation for a guy like me-- healthy, virile, reasonably young, big cock, ready and willing to mate.
Nope. The ruling Feminine Coalition basically outlawed sex between men and women (though not between women and women, oddly enough). Unless you are an indentured slave certified specifically for mating, then its like, no way. Something about maintaining the purity of the Female race and proper ratios of male to female. So... guys like I was are out of luck. No wonder there has been such an upswing in gays recently.
That's how sperm production came into being. Girls not having sex with guys much any more... well, it leads to a drop in the birth rate. Boys and girls. While the Coalition might not care too much about the baby boys, they still need babies. Perpetuate the species and all, especially the female species.
I was in prison serving a two year stretch for hoarding (I used to buy more than my share of twinkies). One day I was called in to the warden's office.
"Sit down, Silas," she said without looking up. I sat, and metal wrist restraints automatically snapped over my wrists, securing me to the chair arms. The chair was bolted to the floor. Typical... though I had a bad feeling.
"Silas, you are a lucky man. Your blood and semen tests came back, and you are extremely high on the Potentiality Scale. This means that you are going to be assigned to the sperm production facility in Edgewood, New Mexico, for the rest of your sentence. I know you have run afoul of some of the gay gangs here, and I think this is a good move for you. You might actually survive to see the end of your sentence."
I looked at the warden with a skeptical eye. "Do I have a choice?"
"No. Congratulations on your new occupation. Tasha will take you down to your transport." The warden picked up a file from her desk. I glimpsed my name on it. She proceeded to feed the file into a shredder, and little pieces of confetti came shooting out.
Tasha, a rather muscular Bulldyke, unsnapped the wrist restraints, slapped me in a waist chain and cuffed my wrists to my waist. "You going to be a good little boy now, or is Tasha going to hobble you?"
"No, I know the score. You don't have to hobble me." I did know the score too, I had seen the lingering effects of hobbling. Like... a few weeks in the hospital wing. She clipped a chain to my neck and led me out of the office, down two flights of stairs and out to a waiting van.
"Hey, don't I get to take my stuff?" I didn't have much, but it was all I had.
"You won't need your 'stuff' where you are going," Tasha snickered, shoved me in the back of the van and then slammed the door shut.
The SCF at Edgewood turned out to be a set of one story brick buildings, painted white. The few windows that could be seen were high up, long and only about a foot high, more like vents than windows. Heavy wire over these openings announced that someone was concerned about things getting in or out.
Tasha the guard dragged me by my neck chain to a metal door in the back of one of the buildings and buzzed for admittance. I was beginning to get a crush on that bulldyke, in spite of the fact she was half strangling me with the chain. The door opened and I was dragged inside, down a corridor and finally into a small white room that contained little but a chair and exam table. The exam table had an unnerving number of leather straps on it, as if patients here commonly put up a pretty big struggle.
Tasha the guard locked my neck chain to a eyelet in the floor, patted me goodbye, and left.
The chain was too short to stand up all the way, so I sat on the floor and waited. Maybe 15 minutes later a tall, thin woman in a white coat came into the room, accompanied by a cute younger girl in a short white dress. The woman didn't speak to me, instead she lectured the girl as she began preparations with me.
"This is a fairly good specimen. Let's get him on the table and strapped down," here she unlocked my chain and pushed me onto the table. Both the woman and the girl quickly buckled me in place. I was laying down, arms strapped in place below my body, legs up slightly and spread. Movement was next to impossible.
"First, do a visual check." The woman took hold of my scrotum and massaged it, my testicles sliding back and forth underneath her thumb. It hurt a little, but I didn't show it. "Remember, these are quite sensitive. Treat them well, as they are the main reason it is here. These produce the sperm that we need and will milk from it later."
The younger girl took hold of my testicles roughly, and performed the same examination routine, but this time I winced. The twinge of pain shot through my groin and lower abdomen.
The women completed a basic but invasive health examination, spreading my anus and viewing inside, locking my jaw open for a visual inspection, drawing blood, and the like. When it was done, the older woman gave me an injection. "OK, this will take about 10 minutes to have its affect. The drug will be fed to him continuously, of course, but this jolt with get him going for us relatively quickly."
The woman began showing the younger girl a device I had never seen before. It looked like a couple of small straps with wires running out of it. "Let's show you how to fit this in place. There are some more modern methods of doing this, but we can't get the funding right now, so this will do. It works pretty well, but one disadvantage is that it requires that its penis must already be erect. Newer methods don't need that. So... we will wait until the drug... ah... I see it is taking hold."
I could feel it taking hold. The base of my penis felt swollen and ached slightly. Looking down, I could see my cock rising and becoming harder with each beat of my heart. Soon, it was rock hard, harder than it had ever been before. So hard, it felt uncomfortable.
I decided I wanted to get involved and see what was happening. "Mistresses," I addressed them in terms of formal respect designated by the state (they had my testicles in their hands, after all). "Can you please tell me what is happening? I think I may be having a bad reaction to that drug. What is it--"
The woman pulled her hair back as I spoke, and tied it into a pony tail with a small bungy. She looked at me with disdain, but spoke to the girl.
"Sometimes they try to speak. This one is new, and so isn't aware that spermies don't speak. If they do, they have their vocal cords cut. That usually takes care of it."
I got the idea and immediately shut my mouth.
The woman took my rock hard penis in her hand, and showed the trainee how to put the electrical equipment on. One strap at the head of my penis, just below the glans. One strap at the base. A ring cinched tight at the base of my penis and circling my scrotum prevented accidental removal. Wires hung down.
My cock was now wired. I was beginning to sweat. I knew better than to speak, but I couldn't help it. "Uh... please, don't hurt me. I haven't--"
The woman nodded to the cute girl, who took a small needle and shoved it under one of my finger nails. My speech cut off and became a cry of pain, and I struggled in the straps. A second needle was inserted, and my struggles became more panicked, but to no avail. I could move no part of my body more than an inch in any direction.
As the pain in my fingers subsided to a mild throb, I clamped my mouth shut. Lesson learned.
The wires connected to my penis were plugged in to a small device with electronic readouts.
"OK, Cecile, this unit is designed to provide optimum results but does require a bit of tuning at first. Lets turn it on."
With the flip of a switch, I felt a slight painful snap in my hardened member. A small electrical jolt of current was running through my cock. "Now, try adjusting the pulse. You will be able to tell when you reach the right frequency. Just play with it for a bit."
The sensation in my cock changed, becoming more painful and I gasp; my hips jerked from side to side and I cried out. It hurt.
"The other way, Cecile, don't ruin him. That's it..."
The pain subsided and morphed into a slightly pleasant sensation. My cock began to throb, bouncing slightly. The pleasure increased as the electrostim began to massage it. Running up and down, the pleasure washed over me suddenly. It felt nothing like sex, but was incredibly pleasurable regardless. I moaned, and closed my eyes.
"There, you see? You almost have it. Adjust the Fourier... yes!" And with that announcement, I lost control of myself. My hips jerked against the straps, I struggled, but not with pain. The electric sensations were probing deep inside me, getting fluids to move, gather and then surge toward my cock. I was going to ejaculate, and it felt like a big one.
"Watch now. Quick, get the receptacle. Place it under the end... ooops there it goes!" A massive orgasm rattled through my body. I jerked and convulsed, spewing 3, 4, 5 times. The electrical current seemed to be dipping deep inside me, pulling more and more semen through my inner tubes and out. Each convulsion brought new waves of pleasure; 6, 7, 8 ejaculations, and I felt like I had no more to give. But the electrical waves kept coming, and so did my contractions. The muscles kept pushing, 9, 10, 11 squirts. The liquid was mostly gone now, but the machine was making me squeeze harder, harder, trying to get every last drop out. I began to cry, the pleasure was still there but I was straining harder and harder. The pleasure was being forced on me, wrung out of me like a washrag.
"Cecile! Turn it off, that's enough. He is dry now, it won't do any good!" Cecile flipped the switch, and the sensations suddenly stopped. My contractions slowed quickly, and I relaxed. My body was covered with sweat, and I was panting from exertion. The whole process had taken perhaps 3 or 4 of the most intense minutes in my life.
Laying collapsed and exhausted on the table I observed the two women as they examined a glass container. It held a fair amount of white viscous fluid, and it slowly dawned on me that this was the sperm they had just forced out of me. There was a huge amount of it.
The brief process had broken me, completely. I started to cry, tears running down the sides of my face. The two women ignored me until Cecile unbuckled me from the table and helped me sit up. I got control of myself as she wrapped a belt-like strap through one elbow, across my back, and then through the other elbow. With a practiced yank, my elbows shifted behind my back, sliding together until they touched painfully. She locked the restraint in place.
Hands free but unable to reach in front of me because my elbows were tightly bound behind my back, I was guided out of the room and to a long hallway with many doors. Each door had a small one-way mirror in it, though we walked by too quickly for me to see inside. My legs were still shaking a little from the experience in the operating room, and I had difficulty moving as quickly as Cecile wished.
When we reached an open door, she pushed me inside. I fell to the floor. Rolling over I could see I was in a very small room that had a narrow cot, a basin for water, and simple toilet. The room was perhaps 3 feet wide and 7 feet long and painted white.
The door clanged shut behind me, a lock sliding into place. I was in what would be my new home for the next 18 months.
The next morning I awoke to the sound of a metal dish pushed through an opening at the bottom of the door. It was a dog dish with food. My arms were still bound behind my back, so I knelt and ate the mush eagerly directly from the bowl. It tasted like dog food as well as looking like it, but I was starved.
The incredibly hard erection I had from the day before had become softer during the night, but my cock was still turgid and erect. It felt unusual with a soreness that extended deep inside me and into my testicles. I didn't know if it was from the process of milking the day before, or because of the drug they had given me.
It was impossible to do anything, or even track time in the tiny cell. My hands could not reach to the front of my body, though with practice I could use them to turn the sink faucet on and off, and flush the toilet. I suppose that's what they had in mind - able to take care of the basics for myself, but unable to touch what my hands most wanted to care for - my cock and balls.
The door opened and Cecile came in. It was like seeing her for the first time. She wore a short dress that was white with pale pink stripes. Her honey blond hair flowed over her shoulders, and the dress showed curves that hinted at large breasts and a small waist. She was barely 20.
My cock grew hard again at the site of her.
Cecile clipped a slave chain on my neck and guided me from the room and down the hall. Several other naked men, all with their arms secured behind their backs and being led by young women by their chains, were emerging and being led down the same hall to a large room at the end. This room was equipped with a series of tables along one side of the room. They all angled slightly slightly up on the side away from the wall. Each male was placed on a table with their head away from the wall, in the slightly raised position.
In the lower center of the table was a hole. My genitals were fed through this hole so they protruded below the table. A couple of straps buckled in place were sufficient to keep me from sliding or moving. I was secured and stuck.
I watched the other men as they had harnesses attached to their cocks. For the first time, I truly noticed that every male there had a huge, rock hard erection, just as I did. Harnesses were also fitted on my cock, and I could feel the same procedures being applied to my genitals as the others. Electrodes were greased and contacts strapped in place, secured and connected to sockets nearby.
The last step in our preparation was a head harness. Cecile took a leather strap assembly and slipped it over my head, buckling it in place. A bit gag fit into my mouth; it tasted bad, of vomit and Clorox. I didn't quite understand why it was needed. The straps were pulled tight, and the bit gag pulled well back in my mouth so that the straps pulled my mouth into a parody of a grin.
All was complete in less than 10 minutes. The girls were efficient, the males compliant. When the prep work was done, I lay on my table, waiting, wondering what would happen next. Cecile was walking up and down the center aisle, between the males, observing, when the first evidence of the daily cycle occurred.
The male across from me, a strong, dark haired young man of 18 or so, suddenly started to moan. The moans increased and became frantic as his body began to convulse. His cock was throbbing below the table, and as his moans transformed to cries, his cock strained for a moment and then began spurting semen. The semen squirted down below the table and was collected in a funnel that led to a glass container below.
The male's orgasm continued to squirt sperm when my own cock began reacting to electrical stimulation. The stim felt like it flowed through my whole groin area, urging the sperm to flood out of my testicles, gather together with semen and begin building pressure. It was making me groan and seconds later I began to scream in a combination of pleasure and pain. The massive orgasm was building, I could feel the fluid building and flowing quickly. The electrical cycles were like a jackhammer, pressing and sucking the sperm from my body in a horrible mockery of orgasm.
As the climax finally hit me and my cock spit body fluid out at high pressure, I screamed and gurgled, unable to control my reactions to the rippling waves of pleasure that ran up and down my body. Semen ejaculated hard, I bit down on my bit gag and let my body take over, temporarily losing consciousness of anything but the intense pleasure that was flooding my brain.
I slowly came back to my senses but realized the electrical impulses were still going on, urging every bit of semen from my body. I was sure there was nothing left, but the shocks kept rippling up and down my cock and balls, and my penis pulsed and convulsed, squeezing out every last drop. My balls were hurting and my entire groin aching when the electrostim finally stopped.
Collapsing in place, I concentrated on recovering... and noticed Cecile standing in front of me, looking at my face with curiosity. She then knelt and checked my genitals where they protruded below the table, touching them slightly and making sure all the electrodes were in place. She then touched my face with her fingers, a surprising and unexpected action, and then moved on to check others.
The room was full of noise. The sound of men in the agony of orgasm rippled and echoed, strangled cries heard through teeth clenched on bit gags. The male across from me had finished his ejaculation and was resting, recovering as I was. We lay on out tables, unable to move significantly, waiting. My arms ached from where they were strapped behind my back. The other straps kept me on the table, unmoving.
Activity in the milking room calmed after a bit, as all the men had their sperm forced from their bodies. We lay in place for an hour or so, when suddenly one of the other males began to moan again, and then writhe and scream in place.
The cycle had begun again, and I watched as one after another of the other males had massive orgasms, ejaculated sperm in huge quantities into collection funnels below the tables, and struggled against their bonds uselessly as the demanding electrical pulses pushed their bodies well beyond their normal capabilities in order to obtain a larger quantity of their seed. I found myself looking at the rows of cocks on either side of me, and the pulsing ejaculations of sperm.
It hit me again, at last... the electrostim dragging my body through the cycle of pleasure, ejaculation and orgasm, followed by increasingly intense pain as the machine demanded more and more sperm. This continued for the entire day, with long periods of boredom broken by moments of decreasing pleasure and increasingly intense pain. The last cycle of the day lasted the longest and there was nothing pleasant about it. My muscles contracted in an attempt to ejaculate body fluid, but my body was out of semen and all that was left was pain. My testicles ached and my penis throbbed horribly.
Finally, we were released, one at a time, and dragged back to our cells, where we collapsed on our cots. I hardly had strength to eat the dog food that was shoved through the door before falling asleep.
This was the first day at the sperm production facility in New Mexico. Each day after was much the same, though as my body adapted and began producing more semen to meet the machine's demands, the pain was mostly replaced with pleasure. Boredom ruled most of the time.
Until, that is, Cecile revealed another side of herself.