The following story is entirely fictitious. Any similarity to any persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional. All characters depicted in sexual acts and scenarios are at least eighteen years of age or older. The following story contains aspects of BDSM, CBT (cock and ball torture), femdom, forced orgasms, tease and denial, prostate stimulation, anal sex, ass worship, sex with machines, and much more. If any of these categories don't appeal to you then I strongly suggest you don't read the following story and find something else more suited to your tastes. You have been warned!
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The Y-Virus
Chapter Six: Doing My Part
I stood from my bed and stretched. The morning sun's golden rays poured in from my window and fell over my naked body. I didn't care much about my nudity, especially in front of the women I was scheduled to impregnate. They had seen my valuables before when I was thawed from stasis, and they would see them again many times over.
I felt fantastic and looked forward to meeting up with Akira. I had been counting the days leading up to this one in my mind; the day I'd be allowed to have sex with her. I could only assume that Akira was more anxious than I was, seeing as how men had only recently been reintroduced into the world of women. I imagined she was also the subject of much envy from some of the other women who still had to wait their turn to have sex with a male.
Before I made the decision to freeze myself, I never entertained the thought of becoming a father. Having children required a sacrifice of time and money. I don't have a problem with kids; I just never really wanted any of my own. The global situation being what it was demanded a reevaluation of this. The thought of becoming a father, and not just once, but many times over, was a little daunting. I was informed earlier that my sperm samples would be taken to various parts of the world; parts I would probably never visit. This meant I would never have the chance to meet most of my future children. Thoughts of this sort would race across my mind whenever I was tied down to an Orgasmanatrix 8000. I felt a tremendous amount of sadness for these soon-to-be children of mine because they would never know their father.
These sad feelings aside, I knew I was going to enjoy doing my part for humanity. Fucking women like Akira, Alexis, and Mary would have been a dream come true for any heterosexual man. But when it came to the children that I would father within the walls of the CDC, I resolved to do the right thing: I would be there for them as much as possible. Plenty of young men from my time period had gone out of their way to avoid their children, their flesh and blood. A cousin of mine had a situation like this happen to her. When she found out she was pregnant with her boyfriend's child, he made every effort to avoid her and his unborn son. Thinking of all the hardships my cousin went through was more than enough to inspire me to want to do right by my future children. I wanted (and needed) to set an example and standard for the other guys in quarantine. Lead by example, my father would always tell me.
After finishing my morning stretches, I went to the small dresser in the corner of my ward (which was brought in two days earlier and retrieved by some of Dr. Miller's scouts) and grabbed a set of clothes. Naturally, I wanted to look my best for Akira, but I didn't have anything that looked as sharp as I wanted. I did have a shirt in one of the drawers that looked as if it could've been something business casual, at least in my opinion. The fashions of the twenty-fourth century were a bit different than those of my time period, although not drastically different. I grabbed the shirt with a pair of boxers and blue jeans. It would look good; not great, but good. The clothes were only one part of what I had in mind for making this day count. The next step was a shower.
I grabbed a towel from the bottom drawer and wrapped it around my waist as I carried the clothes I picked out under my arm. Dr. Miller took the liberty of leading the way down the corridor to the shower stalls with her head held high. The stalls used by the men were located at the end of the hall from our wards. We passed a few other men as we made our way there. They smiled and one told me that I was "a lucky bastard." Both of these guys patted me on the shoulder as we passed. They were both in good spirits, like myself, and I understood why. From earlier conversations I had with these guys I learned that they were also scheduled to impregnate a few female scientists, doctors, and staff members; however, they still needed to meet their quota before being granted that pleasure.
When I reached the shower stalls, I opened the locker in the corner of the room that was designated for me (my name was printed on a white label and taped three or four inches below the top of the small metal door). It was stocked with various soaps, shampoos, and what-have-you. When I walked into my usual stall, Alexis Miller restrained my wrists into cuffs that were installed shortly after the men had been brought out of stasis. I knew the general procedure for the women's safety protocol, also the safety protocol for the men (the TestiTrackers were electrical devices and being in a shower would create certain safety issues). I let Alexis do her thing by shackling me in the stall. I had no intention of refusing her or her instated protocol, especially with her remote still locked around her wrist. I also felt it was important to demonstrate my patience to Alexis Miller by doing what she asked. I figured it was the best thing to do considering that she was a woman of procedure and formalities. I could at least show her through my cooperation that I understood why she did certain things.
She finished locking my second wrist into the overhead cuff and stood back to admire her handiwork. After deciding that she was pleased with the fact that I couldn't use my hands for anything she turned to the faucet handles and set the water loose on my naked body. I shuddered and drew in deep, sharp breaths when I felt the torrent of water crash over me. The water was very cold at first but steadily became warm as it ran over my shoulders and down the rest of my body. The initial coldness of the water forced my cock to shrink back in size. Dr. Miller suppressed what I thought was a chuckle or giggle when she noticed this. It was a quick sound; barely audible. She forced herself to stop abruptly when my eyes moved to hers.
Alexis stepped forward with a thin metal stick. I knew from our earlier bathing sessions that it was the magnetic key for my TestiTracker. She brought it to my balls and soon I was freed from the evil device. She put the TestiTracker and its key into the breast pocket of her lab coat. She pressed a couple buttons on her wrist remote, and the device opened itself on an unseen hinge and she took it off. She put it on a shelf outside the shower stall and hung her lab coat on a hook next to it.
"After your shower you'll have to come with me and submit to a brief medical exam. I trust you remember, Mr. Barber." Alexis reminded me.
She had a slight gleam in her eye that was something other than her usual formal demeanor. Lately she started to act a little more . . . human when she was alone with me. Before, she seemed more like an automaton in the way she followed her own rules and protocol, but I had recently begun to see trace amounts of something resembling normal human responses in her overall behavior. Her suppressed chuckle/giggle at the shrinking of my penis in the cold water was the final clue I needed to confirm this.
"Yes doctor, I remember." I said as I felt the water start to warm up. My penis slowly returned to its normal length and my balls began to hang lower in my scrotum. I knew that Alexis, as well as Mary McFlarghan, enjoyed scrubbing my naked body (they were the only two women that had the job of bathing me). Mary, however, was not afraid to comment on how much she liked it.
For reasons I don't know, I started to think about the women out in the real world; the world outside the CDC. I suddenly felt bad for these women. I couldn't really explain why thoughts about them cropped up in my mind at this time, but they did. The minor luxury of a shower was undoubtedly taken for granted and wasn't available to most of them anymore. This also made me think of other luxuries that were lost to them.
Dr. Miller soon broke my train of thought as she usually did at this stage of my showers.
She began to take her clothes off, though not all of them. Like all women assigned to bathe the men, she wore a bathing suit when entering the stalls with me. This was the first time that she bathed me in a few days, but I knew her bathing suit well: a black two piece with a top that had a clasp in the front. I assumed she chose a black suit to emulate her conservative side, but the suit itself revealed a little more of her personality—and her body—than she would have revealed to others. The lower portion of her suit was a thong and I always enjoyed the great view I had of her amazing ass during my showers with her.
