[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!]
Chapter Eight: Eureka!
I never considered myself claustrophobic, but being forced to remain within the same rooms and hallways of the CDC was beginning to take its toll on me and the other men. I was glad there weren't any claustrophobic men here, otherwise the situation would be terrifying for him and annoying for the rest of us who would have to deal with his fits of anxiety. But on second thought, not many claustrophobic people would've been able to handle getting into the confined space of a cryogenic chamber in the first place, so I suppose the notion is a moot point. I didn't need so-called "people skills" to understand that the other men were feeling the same way I was. We wanted fresh air, but wanted to live a normal life more than anything else. Even the sex we were having could only distract us from this general depression on a temporary basis.
The general ambiance of the CDC was starting to grow somewhat stale for us men and even for a few of the women who spent most of their time inside the building. Things were becoming repetitious as we all endured pretty much the same schedules. The Orgasmanatrix machines milked us dry nearly every other day. Most of the food we ate either came out of cans, was frozen, or was dehydrated at some point. Tabby Cat was really the only one creative enough in her cooking to make the food any good, and soon the men were only wanting food that was prepared by her, though the choice wasn't really ours to make.
The day after I impregnated Dr. Miller, Amy Hock was in the cafeteria with her assigned team. They each went around saying their goodbyes to friends and surviving family. Amy's team consisted of three scientists, two medical doctors, a young woman that Amy had sort of taken under her wing as her apprentice, and as well as a dozen women who were former soldiers in the military. Dr. Miller wasn't entirely keen on the idea of sending away more of the guards and soldiers from their posts in the CDC, but she knew, in the end, this had to be done. Besides, there weren't any direct or imminent threats to the building as of late. They would serve a better purpose helping Amy with her mission than they would be marching along the corridors here.
Amy approached me after saying goodbye to a small group of girls and their caregiver/teacher.
"Hey, Ryan. I guess you've heard that I'm being sent out on a mission?" Amy said.
"Yeah, I heard. I hope everything goes well and I hope you keep each other safe."
"Thanks, we'll do our best. Dr. Miller doesn't want us sharing the details of our mission with anybody, so, I'm sorry if I seem a bit distant about why we're leaving. I wish I could tell you."
I fought the urge to smile. I already knew all the details and purpose of the mission, and I promised Alexis I wouldn't reveal them or the fact that I knew. I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Ah, it's okay Amy. I understand."
"I hate saying it, but you're also going to have to take a rain check on those hover vessel lessons we talked about. I promise I'll teach you as much as I can when I get back. It shouldn't be more than a couple weeks . . . based on our mission parameters."
"Hey, don't worry about it. I have a book on the subject I can flip through in the meantime. Just take care of yourself when you're out there. Who knows? Maybe I'll be outside with you someday soon working on those vehicles." I tilted my head a little with a sad sort of smile.
"Maybe," Amy said before bringing her hand up for me to shake, "take care of yourself too."
I shook her hand and said, "I will."
There was an awkward moment of silence between us, and then, quiet suddenly, she threw her arms around me in a fierce hug. Being a close friend of mine, I returned the gesture with the same intensity.
There were a few other women I was acquainted with who were saying goodbye. I would wait for them to say their farewells to their much closer friends before I approached them, shook hands, and wished them the best of luck on their mission. Some women only shook my hand; others hugged me. But all the women who were mere minutes away from leaving the CDC to go on this mission were a little sad, yet noticeably proud. Proud to be a part of something Dr. Miller deemed necessary.
When Amy and her team left the quarantined section of the CDC, I returned to my ward. I pressed the "up" button next to the lone window in my room. The metal sheet covering the outside of my window lifted and I soon saw the eerily still Georgia morning. I noticed there weren't any hover vehicles of any kind moving in the distance that morning, until I saw the three large hover vehicles Amy and her team were travelling in and were going to use to bring more men from other cryogenic facilities.
I couldn't fight the depressing thought that I now had one less friend within the walls of this prison of pleasure.
I was fortunate enough to have been spared any appointments with the Orgasmanatrix machines during this time. I was scheduled to impregnate Dr. McFlarghan in two days, so it was necessary that my testicles be given time to produce an adequate amount of healthy sperm. Dr. Miller trusted the men who were freed from the TestiTrackers to refrain from masturbating. For the first time in my young life I had little desire to do so.
During the time that led up to my sexual encounter with Mary, I spent most of the time reading the book I had on hover vehicles and teaching Hanna how to play better chess (mostly consisting of endgame lessons). Cabin fever was admittedly making me and most of the other men more irritable. I never took out my frustrations on anybody in a harmful way, but I did make a few comments that were deeply sarcastic.
I didn't see much of Dr. Miller or Dr. Weller on the days leading up to my appointment with Mary. I was told by a couple of the other scientists that both women were hard at work in the lab. Every time I thought about my own boredom, I couldn't help but feel a deep pang of guilt. Alexis and Nancy were working hard all day, every day, trying to right the wrong done to the world by Dr. Mirinda Freeborne and her ilk.
This thought kept my outward bursts of irritation and annoyance to a minimum.
One day slowly bled into the next, until finally the day had come when I was to impregnate Dr. McFlarghan.
The usual procedures and protocol were adhered to. Dr. Weller checked my body for any ailments or STDs. But since I no longer wore the TestiTracker, I could shower on my own. I was glad when Dr. Miller informed me that I didn't need to wait for an escort for the shower stalls anymore, but I also really liked it when Mary or Alexis scrubbed me clean. Nobody else was around when Alexis told me this, and so I took a slight risk in asking her if she would still like to join me in the shower stall. I even took the risk of calling her by name.
I was surprised when she said, "I'd love to, but I'm afraid that Dr. Weller, Dr. Stills, and I have a lot of work ahead of us. I know you and the other men don't want to be confined indoors any longer than what is necessary. But I will say that things are looking better from a research perspective."
I forced a smile, shrugged my shoulders, and thanked her for the efforts she and the other scientists were putting forth in helping us men to overcome the dreaded Y-Virus.
My shower was nothing special without female hands to lather me up. I took a few minutes longer in the shower than I normally did in my pre-cryogenic days. I heard the voices of my long dead friends making jokes about "jerking it" in the shower a minute too long. Aside from using soap to clean my genitals, I didn't touch myself in that way. Despite the fact that I was due to have sex with an attractive and intelligent Scottish woman, I wasn't thinking much about sex. I found myself thinking about the people in my past and trying my damnedest to remember what fresh air smelled like. The sterile smell of the facility had filled my nostrils long enough that I almost didn't smell it anymore. I actually had to empty my mind in meditation to notice it at times.
After my shower, and after Dr. Gorzinski gave me the standard pre-sex checkup, I went into Mary McFlarghan's private quarters.
Mary knew what turned me on just as well as any other doctor or scientist who saw the material displayed on the Orgasmanatrix, but I found it very amusing that she didn't try to use my kinks and desires to get me excited. She had always been somewhat playful in the way she "handled" me. I never forgot the way she giggled and the way she lubricated my asshole when I was first examined by the XTC Internal Scanner. I knew she enjoyed that sort of thing, but she didn't seem to want anything too kinky when it came time for us to have sex.
Mary wore a very, very short plaid skirt with a matching plaid thong underneath. The delightful curve of the lower half of her ass was easily seen as she strutted around the room. Sometimes she would turn around and pretend to pick something up to tease me. Normally it would've excited me, but being cooped up in the quarantine started to have an effect on my libido.
Mary could tell, rather quickly, that something wasn't right with me. The most obvious thing that gave it all away was the fact that my cock would only grow semi-erect.
She gave me a long, heart-felt speech about how it wasn't my fault. She knew I had a lot on my mind.
"Sit tight," She said with a curled lip, "I have just the thing to help."
