Haly woke up to a hard prodding in her left buttock. Yawning, she looked at the chron, and saw she'd been asleep precisely 1.7 hours. Turning her head carefully to either side, she saw Alex and Gene were both fast asleep, squeezing her between them. She didn't want to turn up the lights, so she just rolled her hip a little, seeing if it was her imagination.
It wasn't. Gene had recovered, or at least his dreaming brain had. How, though? Before collapsing in exhaustion, he'd delivered up a quantity of semen that her husband couldn't have given her without draining his testicles dry and leaving his cock limp for a day or more. She couldn't know what was in Gene's testicles right now, but his cock felt fully recharged.
Whatever the docents had dosed him with, she hoped hadn't done permanent damage. Should she just leave him be? An hour later would he be humping her leg in his sleep? Should she -- again -- try to relieve the stress the poor boy was under? Her mouth watered at the thought of another round of drinks: big warm swallows of teenage semen. If he could come back that fast (and wasn't that the whole point of the milking barn treatments?) in a day he could feed a whole dormitory full of women hungry for protein shakes!
No, no, no. What if he woke up in panic again? Closing her eyes, she shifted into a more comfortable position, her breasts against her husband's back, Gene's warm, stiff cock between her thighs, only thin fabric between it and her smooth-shaven labia.
In the morning his erection was still waiting. At least his dreams hadn't squirted boyjuice all over the sheets and her panties. She stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. "Alex," she said to her husband, "I may have to relieve our boy's pressure again, or he'll be going around poking things with that!" Her husband chuckled and stretched, swinging his legs out of the bed and sitting up.
"Gene," he said, "Are the dreams still bad?" He stood and looked down at the two of them, "You know you can stay with us as long as you need to fully recover!"
Gene thought, then looked at Haly, "Truthfully," he said, "I feel pretty good after a night's sleep."
"Dreams?" she prompted him again.
His body jerked, then he took a deep breath, "You were in the dream," he said, "I -- I don't want to offend you, but --"
"You can tell us!"
"Yes," Alex said, starting to dress for work, "Maybe it will help with your recovery, to talk?"
"All right. In the dream I was furious with you for stealing my sperm."
"But I didn't -- oh!" She caught herself, "Sorry," she kissed him on the forehead again, "I know."
"Yeah, it was in the dream. You were wearing one of those white docent uniforms."
"They're pretty hot!" Alex interjected. He'd been in the same dormitory as Gene had, years earlier, gave them what they wanted, and eventually aged out. He once tried to calculate how many hundreds of litres of semen the women in tight blouses and skimpy white cotton panties had "stolen" from him.
"Let him tell the story!" She shushed him. "So, I was dressed in a --"
"White uniform, yes." He rubbed his eyes, as if comparing her in her thin, translucent knickers with his nightmare, "I was back in my old dorm, expecting the docent to wake me up and try to get me to... you know, participate." Haly was surprised to see him blushing. "I looked up and it was you! All I could think of was you spitting into an insulated cup and hiding it from me! I was so furious, I reached up and grabbed you by the tits. You screamed, then, and I realized that all the other beds in the dorm were empty. I knew nobody was going to come and help you, so I rolled off my bed and forced you down on it." He paused, suddenly unsure.
"Let it out," she said simply.
"I pushed your face into the pillow and held you there, my hand on your neck. You couldn't breathe, but that only made you struggle more desperately. I pushed up your skirt and ripped off your panties." He looked down at her thighs, "I had to pull so hard it tore deep red welts in the skin. I wanted to hurt you with my cock, so I forced your legs open. But I knew, I just knew, if I let myself get inside your cunt that was just what you wanted if I came inside you. I slapped you, hard, then -- because you were on your stomach -- I saw your other hole." He thought of Vesse, so long ago, when his head had been clear and his anger had been real. "A dirty hole, a tight hole. I forced myself in, heard you whimper, knew you were crying, knew I'd broken you, won at least one battle against you and the other docents."
He paused, looking into her eyes, amazed that he'd had such hatred for her. She only nodded, understanding.
