THE DONOR
In a large room in a large building in the remote Washington State countryside Tom looked through his hood at the bowl and hungrily buried his face in a dish of rice and green veg. The floor beneath him was thickly padded and from all around him came the sound of ID tags clinking against metal bowls. Despite the variety of body shapes and abilities all of the men here were well-built, just like him. They were on their hands and knees eating their meal, just like him. They were all naked. Just like him.
In addition to being well-built, eating from bowls on the floor and naked, the other feature which tied these men together was their intellectual abilities. Here there were brilliant scientists, accomplished writers, incredible dancers. In fact the careers these men had chosen were both diverse and yet very similar: they did not pay well. And that's why they were here.
In this state the payout from a sperm donation is $150. In this facility the payout is $750, with customers paying double that, and some a little extra. But more on that later. Let's peek into Tom's thoughts on how he ended up in a large room in a large building in a remote part of Washington State with his bare butt pointing up and his head down in a food bowl.
Tom is a biologist. He enjoys yoga, bicycling and rock climbing. He has long legs and a short torso formed of a slightly protruding belly and two very protruding pectoral muscles. His upper arms go from flabby to very firm in the flex of a large muscle. He's 38 years old and particularly good at his job. But not very well paid which, again, is why he's here.
A poster in the reception of Tom's yoga studio was headed with that eye-catching cliché: 'Easy way to earn money!' and, but for the text underneath, Tom would have walked on by. 'We're looking for accomplished men. All ranges of body shapes sought. $750 paid per visit (up to ten visits), with additional income possible. Contact apply@maltheuserclinic.org for your FREE application kit.'
Keen to receive anything for free Tom duly applied. One week later a box arrived in the post containing:
- A survey about Tom's health and career that took 30 minutes to complete
- A device for drawing blood and a pot into which the sample was deposited
- A tape measure for recording waist size, bicep size, thigh size etc.
- A booklet explaining everything about the clinic
- A small plastic device with a flared base and instructions on how to use it
The last item was a vibrating butt plug. The Maltheuser Clinic was keen to know if applicants' prostates could be sufficiently stimulated, with applicants warned that any dishonesty would immediately be discovered at the clinic. Tom had been successful and was invited to an orientation day, all travel expenses and accommodation provided for - and here's that magic word again - free.
At the orientation the 20 or so men present were told that this was a state-registered clinic with three of the best sexual health doctors in the United States. The Maltheuser Clinic was recognised as being the very best sexual health clinic in the country and it focused on just one thing: sperm donation and insemination. Its tried-and-tested methods were highly unconventional, yet proven to be far more successful than standard alternatives.
THE RECIPIENT
Marla had made it, professionally anyway. There was no echelon higher that she could achieve. If she climbed any more then there would be no competition (she'd tried that, the government said "no"). Now she wanted an heir and, thanks to the circles she moved in, she knew that there was no finer place to obtain one than at the Maltheuser Clinic. Plus, she had been told, it could be a most enjoyable experience, especially if she paid for an extra service.
What she had been told was accurate. Here she stood behind a large mirrored glass window looking upon a room of fine-looking men, all gloriously naked, on their knees and on display for her discerning gaze.
"Why the hoods?" Marla asked a nurse.
"The men's anonymity is as important to us as your own."
"And they eat from the floor because...?"
"Because it allows our customers to fully inspect them."
Sure enough every inch of the men was exposed. Marla was mesmerised by cocks swinging side to side as the kneeling men ate their meals. Tom was in the middle of the room, his bowl placed so that Marla could thoroughly look him over. He had a lovely, smooth dick which swayed in unison with that of the man's next to him.
Marla asked for Tom's profile, the nurse handed her a tablet with the donor's page open. Tom ticked a lot of boxes.
"Dr Russell looked Tom over only yesterday," said the nurse. "She said that he's in fine form and responds well to stimulation."
Marla had read about the stimulation. The though of it caused in her underwear a flood large enough to make the Red Cross declare immediate action. Regaining her composure she glanced once again at Tom.
"I'll take the Platinum package, please."
THE MILKING
"Shame I can't just fuck him and avoid all this clinical shit," Marla commented the next morning.
"Unfortunately that would change our business from clinic to brothel," replied the nurse.
"Ugh. goddamn puritans."
"I can assure you that every single one of our customers who paid for it has highly recommended the Platinum package"
They were sat in what looked like an ordinary doctor's room, except there was a massage table with a hole for faces to be placed above. And a screen underneath the hole in the table that was prepped to show Tom's choice of pornography. And a medium-sized butt plug placed on the table.
"How many times has he done this?" Marla asked.
"This is actually his first time."
"Huh, lucky me."
"Yes, we milk our studs ten times before retiring them."
"Ha, I like that you call them studs. Why only ten times?"
"To keep the stock fresh and to keep their seed exclusive. Ah, here he is."
The door opened and through it walked a tall lady with a badge reading "Doctor Russell" pinned to her lab coat. She lead Tom - still naked - into the room. Around the man's neck was a thick metal collar, attached to which was a leash being held by the doctor. With the hood removed Marla could at last see Tom's face. She liked it, so much in fact that she could feel herself blushing. Tom, however, was even more embarrassed. He hadn't expected to be chosen for a special milking session straight away. He kept his eyes on the ground, not wanting to meet the eyes of the recipient and thinking instead of the extra $750 he would earn. The customer, who must be the middle-aged redhead, would have paid a considerable sum for him.
"I'm going to enjoy this," Marla said, attempting to overcome her characterful shyness.
"I hope you do," Doctor Russell replied, "but remember, also, that there are clinical reasons for you to do this. We've proven that the donor is more productive when directly milked by the recipient and while under the pretence of bondage."
"Oh yes, of course."
"We will leave you two to get acquainted and then return in five minutes to begin."
Doctor Russell handed Marla the leash before leaving the room with the nurse. Holding the long leather strap in her left hand she held up her right hand to shake Tom's. Surprised, he took it.
