A new lethal disease affects a large proportion of the men in their early twenties. Thankfully, the authorities have finally found a cure: ingesting good old spunk! And those young beta males are going to need to swallow A LOT of it if they want to survive.
The story, names, and places are entirely fictional. All characters featured in the story are above 18. This story is only meant to be read by a mature audience, and in any case, by people over the age of 18.
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THE CURE
Chapter 4: The CuM Centre
I was late, it had been tough to fall asleep the previous night.
I hurried up and I hopped into the shower.
I made sure not to spend too much time washing my cock as it was quite sensitive already. I would have normally jerked off before going to bed, - and most likely once again in my morning shower -, but stroking myself was definitely off the table now. It was literally a matter of survival.
The slightest breeze would get me hard that day.
My dick eventually got flaccid and I was ready to go to the CuM Centre, I mean, the "Cure Municipal Centre", set up near the campus.
I walked there with the entire frat house.
Nine guys horsing around, seven of them were Alphas ready to empty their balls, two of them were Betas, fully aware that they would have no choice but to drink a few loads of fresh cum that morning.
A big space which was normally used for concerts had been pre-empted by the municipality. Hundreds of cars were parked there when we arrived.
Several signs were now saying: "Cure - Municipal Centre".
Only men were there. We could identify the medical staff wearing white blouse, the rest of us were either there to provide cum or to ingest it.
Buckle up, this was the world we were living in now.
All males between the age of 26 and 50, as well as all males between 18 and 25 who had been tested healthy (the Alphas), were now required to provide semen each morning, unless they were exempted for a duly justified reason, mainly, if they could prove that they were in the process of procreating.
According to the latest stats, roughly 36% of the 18 to 25 male age group were affected with the lack of the B19 Protein and needed the Cure.
This represented less than 7% of the total U.S. male adult population eligible to give out their sperm. Consequently, at least 90% of the men in the Centre were Alphas and requested to provide their sperm, and only a small minorly of us were in the "Beta line", waiting to get our daily dose of treatment.
As the Authorities needed roughly six to seven men to produce a single ounce of cum, - the minimum advised daily dose -, the math worked quite well, leaving a good amount of additional spunk to be stored by the Government for future use.
The State had guaranteed that every Beta male would get his ounce of medicine per day, the rest was left into the merciless hands of capitalism. But more on that later.
Lines were so long that they were starting from outside of the Centre.
Inside, it looked pretty much like our gymnasium, the benches and chairs used during concerts and other events had been removed, replaced by cubicles.
They were roughly a hundred of them on all sides of the Centre.
Alpha males had to stand in line and hurried into a cubicle to donate as soon as it got available.
Inside of each cubicle, Gino explained to me later that there was an iPad with an internet connexion and a pair of earphones. He said that the guy who used the cubicle right before him was looking at some fetish porn involving very overweight women.
Alongside the other Betas, I was standing in one corner dedicated to "our kind".
All of us were looking at our classmates, teachers, friends, neighbours, sometimes brothers and fathers, in line to go deposit their loads.
They were looking back at us.
Some seemed to be thinking: "hold on in there, I'm doing this for you" (Gino, my roommate's state of mind); others looked at us with despise and seemed to be thinking: "I can't believe I have to jerk off here and waste my cum on you" (Jason, the coxswain's state of mind); while others were feeling like they were God, providing their miracle juice to the needy (Franck, the team captain's state of mind).
The whole thing had a strong industrial farm vibe to it.
The Authorities needed, quite literally, "a ton" of cum. The organic Cure needed to be produced and extracted fast, and delivered to the ones in need at the end of the supply chain.
The Alphas were cows to be milked and the Betas were animals to be fed.
Laboratory workers were pouring the small samples collected from each Alpha into larger translucent bottles made of glass which, to an innocent eye, might have looked like milk bottles.
Once those were filled up with sperm from dozens of guys, the staff workers would shake the bottles to mix the good healthy semen, and in the end, pour their content into shot glasses for us Beta males to drink.
Some extra bottles were stored in freezers or coolers for later use. But there was no cooler for us that morning. The sperm would be served fresh. The State did not have time to make any reserve...
I was nervously waiting in my line for my "treatment".
From afar, I saw my housemates meeting with some of their friends, Big D., the exhibitionist, was there. He was a good friend of Diego, as Diego was part of both the rowing and the wrestling team and Darius was undoubtfully the star of the wrestling team.
They seemed to have some laugh as they were waiting for their turn.
Good for them...
They were probably anxious too; Making fun of the Beta crowd was a way like any other to release some of the tension.
Closer to me, Jason was waiting for his turn to get into a cubicle and jerk off.
I waved at him but the coxswain pretended not to see me. It was not smart associating with a Beta... I mean, we were drinking their cum after all. We were freaks!
Jason was discussing with someone from the water-polo team, a friend of Steven, but that dude also ignored Steven who was waiting for his drink a few rows in front of me.
I got chills down my spine thinking back of the moment Steven had been forced to lick my coated with sperm face in class the day before.
In my line, there were a few guys from that class but also other guys who had been sorted as "Betas" in different assemblies.
I was standing between Simon and Gregory. The gay dude seemed way more comfortable than us. Would I dare say that he even seemed excited looking at the shot glasses coming in? God, part of me wished I could have been that hungry...
The scale of the whole operation was quite impressive and it was running pretty smoothly considering that the Centre had to be fully set up and running in less than forty-eight hours.
Of course, President Harrison had made sure to communicate about the Cure and the Protocol only once everything had been ready but still, they had really achieved something there.
Simon told me in the line that his father had known about this for an entire month but that he had been sworn to secrecy. It was a matter of "National Security" as they say.
Also, the U.S. Government wanted to keep the advantage compared to the other Nations which were only discovering the "miracle" Cure now, through the American press releases.
Word on the streets was that the U.S. Authorities were already negotiating potential shipping of the surplus of jizz harvested to foreign territories, while those foreign countries were struggling to implement a similar Protocol in such a short notice.
Although I was impressed by the operation overall, there were some unavoidable mishaps: Men entering in a cubicle while it was still busy (quite awkward when you run into your Law Professor in the middle of ejaculation); Alphas being unable to cum under the pressure and being scolded by the doctors; Betas being unable to drink the jizz offered to us (those generated the most tensions as nobody respects an ungrateful brat).
But the biggest incident occurred when one guy from our Beta line, one of the older ones, probably approaching 25, suddenly ran to a cooler, pushed aside a doctor violently, and tried to drink a whole bottle of warm cum!
It happened so quickly that everyone was stunned for a few seconds.
The guy was trying to ingest as much spunk as possible but half of it was running down his chin to his shirt. He was soaked.
Swallowing seemed difficult and the rogue Beta was making tons of bubbles in his mouth, but he persisted. As people were coming to stop him (I said, coming, not "cumming", you perv), he even poured a second bottle of fresh milk right onto his eager face.
What a waste!
Finally, he was escorted out by security but he had already ruined at least a gallon (around 4 litres) of healthy cum.
This was not an isolated incident. That day, hundreds of videos of Beta males fighting to get more of the "Cure" all across the country became viral on social medias.
This did not help improve our already scorned image.
See, I was seeing myself as part of this "community" now.
Some guys were already selling their used condoms online at a crazy high prince: "100% alpha male cum, 5 ounces! Buy now, drink it tomorrow!"
I assumed most of those were scams but I could not tell for sure.
Every Alpha male had to deposit their first loads of the day at the CuM Centre, this was the new mandatory law, but they were free to sell the remaining of their batch to the best buyers.
Rumours had it that before announcing the measures to the whole nation, the President's son, who had been tested Beta himself, was already bathed three times a day with cum from various sources, and extreme measures had been taken so he would be healed as quickly as possible.
Apparently, the Government officials had their own channel of supplies.
I must say that, at times, I was tempted myself.
As much as the whole process disgusted me, - I was very nervous about drinking my portion of sperm -, I knew that I could get done with it much faster if I drank more than one ounce of cum a day. At least, that was what the experts were telling on television.
But even if I had wanted to, I had no idea how I would go about finding more cum. I was broke as fuck so I could not pay for some extra batches online... This whole Protocol really had a way to make you insane and consider the most outrageous solutions.
After the incident with the "starving man" -- as he would be nicknamed later that day -, more security guys came and things got a little stricter regarding sticking to our lines and following the process.
After more than an hour there, I still had not received my sample but I was getting close. Gino was still waiting to be called-in for the harvesting part as well.
We would be both late for class but the university had already made some adjustments while the male students were attending the Centre. In any case, we were fully authorized to miss a class or two to complete our task.
As if it was not clear enough: the CuM Centre had to become our number one priority.
