The Harvest

Her-licopters thundered overhead; in the distance, dogs barked and sirens wailed in the darkness.

John jumped over the wire fence and dropped into a rubbish-strewn ally.

He leaned against the wall, hands on knees, trying to catch his breath.

He'd outrun them; he'd left the hunters behind.

How long he could stay out of their clutches he didn't know. He'd escaped the last four hunts he was eligible for, but how long could he expect his luck to last?

Since the plague, there were perhaps only a hundred thousand men left on the planet and free-range roamers like himself. Maybe less than twenty thousand.

They were permitted to live outside the breeding camps on the whim of the empress, for sport and entertainment only.

The waiting list to join the hunting parties was long, and the desire to run the free men down was strong.

Then every six months, the Harvest would begin.

The barking of dogs got closer; John turned to go, but two shadows walked into the light at the end of the alley, ominously outlining their stun guns in silhouette. He looked behind him at the fence he had just scaled, but it was useless. The chase was over.

"Stay there, Penis!" The taller of the two shadows called.

"Give it up, Cumbag, it's time!" The other yelled happily, pointing her weapon at him.

A knot formed in John's stomach. Fear.

Or was it something else?

He'd heard varying tales from the few other males he'd met, some alluding to the pleasure that was to be had by being harvested.

The pair strode closer, the clomping of their knee-high leather boots echoing in the alley.

"Going to make this easy cowboy? Or you want it the hard way?" The taller one said.

As her silhouettes resolved themselves, he noticed only the taller one wore the uniform visor fronted helmet, so the only feature he could see was her red lipped mouth.

The shorter of the two was bare faced and wearing an excited, wild expression.

The knot in John's stomach grew tighter.

"You can't do this!" John pleaded plaintively, "I am a human being; I have the same rights as you; this is a crime against humanity the way you treat us men.

"There will come a time, maybe not today, nor tomorrow, but there'll be a time you regret your actions here and see them as the cruel abuse that they are!

There will come a time where men will be recognised as equals, and the reckoning will fall on your heads!"

The two women slowed and turned to each other, indecision in their body language.

*Shit!* John thought, *shit, are they going to change their mind? Fuck!*

"I mean, of course this is the system I live in, and I will let myself be used by the regime, but know this, I object fully," he continued insincerely.

Helmet strode up to him and pushed her pistol up under his chin. "Listen to me, pal. I don't give a fuck what you're objecting to, or whatever the fuck you think about the 'regime', but you are going to give us what we came for.

"Trousers off!" She commanded.

Bareface had already sat on the floor, back to the alley wall.

John obeyed and semi reluctantly dropped his pants and stood, now naked from the waist down.

Helmet grabbed him roughly, dragged him towards Bareface, and thrust him against the wall, hands spread wide, bent at the waist, and with his dick swinging scarily close to Bareface's bare face.

"I don't see a mark, so this is your first time?" Helmet's words were more a statement than a question.

She jabbed a hypodermic into John's neck.

"That'll get you in the right mindset," she said.

John felt the burn of the drug through his system, culminating at his groin, immediately sending his cock from half mast to straining fullness.

His dick pointed just inches from Bareface's lips.

John looked down and saw hungry blue eyes staring back, and he watched as her lips parted and she took his tip into her hot mouth.

The feeling was nothing to that he had ever felt before. Her warm mouth spread sensations to every part of his body.

*Is this what the camps were like all the time?

Who were the unlucky ones here exactly?*

Helmet pulled something from her belt, and brought it up into John's face to see.

He saw a slender rod of steel with a bulbous ball end. She flicked a switch, and the ball crackled and vibrated.

"Time to collect what we came for, Cumbag."

John's eyes grew wide as he felt a slippery finger massage his asshole. The cold leather of her glove coated in slick jelly she had squirted from a container on her belt.

Her finger circled and shallowly probed him, sending exciting thrills through his core.

He'd heard about this, but he thought it was a joke, something to scare the un-harvested.

He felt the cold steel ball nudge at him.

He took a sharp intake of breath as helmet slowly but relentlessly pushed her baton into him.

As she rocked it back and forth, John felt a commotion at the heart of him that was at once painful, urgent, and on the edge of losing control.

Bareface increased her speed, bobbing on his shaft, and amongst the agony of sensation, he felt her tongue sliding around his tip.

His mind began to shut down.

"He's ready," said bareface, disengaging from his cock and reaching into her belt to retrieve a plastic beaker.

Helmet put her lips close to John's ear.

"Cum for me!" She whispered and flicked the switch on her baton.

John's brain played static. The pulse of the baton against his prostate superseded all conscious input, and his cock began to pump out jet after jet of his semen. The accompanying wash of his orgasm was beyond anything he had felt on his own. Every nerve and sinew stretched taut as spurt after impossible spurt filled her jar.

Once milked to her satisfaction, Helmet unceremoniously pulled her baton from him, giving John yet another quake of excitation.

He spun and put his back to the wall, head and body still disconnected from reality.

Helmet kissed his cheek and used her specially designed ring to brand a small 'x' on his neck.

"I'll be looking for you in six months." she promised.