This one (and Everything Under The Sun) have been sitting on my hard drive for two years. Don't ask me where this one came from. But you may be able to help me decide where it's going. Just remember one thing: if you don't know what "futa" is, back away slowly. If you DO like this stuff (you fucking pervert), I recommend "The Sex Star" by Pinata.
*
I don't know how I came to be here. I barely remember who I was. I'm sure I had a name once. They're doing something to me. Arriving here is the first thing I remember. Ever.
I don't even remember waking up. I remember being naked, standing with my arms very securely secured behind my back, ankles shackled together. I can't even remember what my hands look like. That's when Dr. Bell slipped the hood off my head.
I was a place I would come to know simply as The Lab. The light was dim but hurt my eyes anyway. Blue mostly, coming from a few soft lights and a lot of instrument panels. I was shaking. I remember thinking, "this isn't college!"
Dr. Bell stood before me. A woman in a lab coat, talking into a recording device like I wasn't there.
"Specimen 44168, Dr. Bell. Specimen is 18 years of age, 5'4" tall, 115 pounds," she recited. I protested, but ended up just making a squawking noise through the ring gag in my teeth. "Flaccid length of five inches."
I was shaking. I remember having been very self-conscious about my deformity prior to that. I can't recall the specifics, no images or sounds, but I remember being taught that I had something extra down there, something other little girls don't have. It was perfectly manageable, disappearing under normal clothing until I was about 14. Then I started to develop as a young woman. It had developed with me. I remember it must have had me running to various bathrooms or other places because I was feeling "sick" throughout puberty. I had no idea what I was going to do when I got to college. But I never got there. Instead I woke up here. And after concealing it all my life--somehow--here I was, bound and naked, with a doctor looking right at my nude body, and very obviously taking notes on my penis. So you can imagine how I felt when she reached out and took it in her hand.
I stiffened and squealed, tears in my eyes now. I don't remember why I didn't just turn away. I think there might have been some "conditioning" before that, or maybe I was just paralyzed with fear, but I watched, looking past my breasts as she cradled it at first, palm up, looking it over. With a squeak I blinked in shock and when my vision cleared of tears, I realized she was masturbating me! As I whined in protest, struggling to stay on my feet, I helplessly watched myself get hard. Soon my body had taken over and my hips were thrust stiffly forward, surrendering to her ministrations, having dripped enough pre-cum to wet the head and her hand. She then frustrated me by stopping. I remember looking alarmed and offended as she then measured it with a ruler.
"...specimen's erect length, fifteen inches." My hips twitched a little, trying to catch up to the pleasure that had gone away. She went on, ignoring my distress completely. "Specimen is prepped for preliminary sample."
She then started to lead me--by my cock!--to the other end of the room, slowly as I awkwardly dealt with the sensations she was using to control me and unsteadily walked with the hobbles on my feet. I'd certainly never be running in these. She was leading me to a machine, a cylindrical appliance about as big around as a large tree trunk that went all the way from ceiling to floor, standing me right up to an aperture about waist level. It was a vertical slot about a foot long, probably so people of any height could use it, right in line with my penis. It was then she produced what I thought at first was a pen, but extended into a metal antenna, with which she shocked my buttocks with rather than instruct me in English...I lurched forward, lodging the head of my cock into the slot. It was lined with latex and some kind of lubricant. She then "encouraged" me forward until I was fully inserted. She then urged me some more until I was forced to fuck this receptacle. I had already been bothered by her hand, even my pussy was really wet now, and I was already crying from the shocks, so before long I was thrusting my hips on my own and moaning in anguished embarrassment at myself. Finally I threw myself against the console, my body tensing, my voice catching in my throat as I gushed semen into the machine.
My breasts heaving, I caught my breath as a green light flashed on the machine, and it beeped happily.
"Preliminary sample complete, results pending upload. Specimen to be prepped for extraction immediately."
I was still reeling and dizzy when she pulled me out of the machine by my cuffs and turned me around. And then she began jerking me again. I wailed in protest as she teased me right back to attention, then began to lead me by my cock through the door of the room into the lab.
I was rubbernecking in the corridor. The left side of the hallway was glass, looking out on the facility's containment cells. And as I walked, I began to see. Others like me were being led around, women with twelve to twenty inch cocks, bound and ring-gagged, led around by women in lab coats or scrubs. I was led around the occasional drops or small puddle of semen. Apparently accidents happened on occasion.
I must not have had any lovers up until this point. I had a penis for god's sake, fifteen inches erect, no boy would have touched me, no boy with a smaller cock than mine anyway and some seriously kinky taste. Erections like mine would have been hard to hide, too, I must have seemed unreachable, running off whenever a boy hit on me. So you can imagine how I felt being seen completely naked and bound helplessly in front of strange women, one of which was holding me by my aberrant cock...needless to say I was terrified. But I walked. I walked painfully slowly, Dr. Bell teasing me along by my head. I saw that there must have been hundreds there like me, thousands in containment. Apparently my "type" all have the obnoxiously large genitalia and slavishly-responsive sex drives in common, and we all ejaculate about a cup or more of fluid with each emission. What exactly I am or how we come to be I've never been sure. They just call us "specimens."
"Oo, that's a fine one you have there," said another doctor, sliding in beside Dr. Bell. "Is she fresh?" This action put me shoulder to shoulder with another hermaphrodite woman like myself, this one with a bit gag. She looked back at me briefly, eyes lidded with the fatigue of constant arousal, a feeling I was starting to get what with being kept constantly erect.
"Just delivered, taking her in for milking!" said Dr. Bell brightly. "This one's really well behaved." She gave me a friendly jerk that nearly finished me, a maneuver she must have mastered after years of practice. I squeaked and stumbled, neither doctor seeming to take this as anything other than business as usual. My pussy clenched and I remember that being when the first drop of lubricant leaked out of my pussy onto my thigh.
The two doctors talked as if neither me nor the other girl were there. Then they bid their farewells, and I was taken out of the main corridor to a side passage. Dr. Bell slid a keycard in a door panel, and the metal door slid open. It looked like a small closet, it was the home of some metal crates. Was this my room? She led me inside, pushed the button that closed the door, and locked it.