The Facility Tour

Note: This is an edit of one of my older stories. I've placed it in a different category, added more description, and edited it for grammar.

*

The facility was round. A gigantic, gray half-globe of concrete and stone on the top of the hill, almost looking like a second sunrise. The building was surrounded by grass and, slightly lower, a partially electric fence. Ten scientists stood on the other side of the fence, gazing at the dome ahead of them.

"Welcome to Pine Mountain Center," a man in gray said from the other side of the gate as the door swung open. "Please enter quickly and follow me."

The scientists hurried in as the gate slammed behind them.

"Sorry about that," the man in gray quipped. "We have to be careful about who we let in and, more importantly, who we let out."

"Didn't you say these humans aren't sentient?" one of the scientists questioned.

"Well, they aren't sentient the way you and I are," the man in gray clarified. "Of course, all breathing creatures retain some semblance of a mind, or else they would not be able to function. And I'm sure they think to themselves, on some level- after all, look at how much they had accomplished for their species before we got here- but to be sure, they hardly retain the ability to reason and understand their world to the same extent that we can."

"But they would still try to run away?"

"Well, if you let any wild organism run free, it would surely move wherever it could go, wouldn't it? I doubt our girls are unhappy, but even the happiest one might lose her wits, bless them. Now, if you'll follow me..."

The man in gray pressed a button on the side of the dome. Several guards stood at attention next to a steel door, which slid open and slammed shut as soon as everyone was inside.

"Before we begin, I will take you into our lecture room," the man in gray explained. "Unfortunately, you do not have time to tour the entire facility, but you will get to see one of our processing and gathering rooms, and of course, the gift shop."

The scientists chuckled.

"You will only see a small sampling of our present stock," he continued. "The facility is run on a 24 hour basis, with our staff working in eight hour shifts. We maintain one of the largest facilities on the planet, with somewhere around 5,000 human females and employing nearly 500 of our people. The humans sleep in small cells on the third level, and our employees have their dormitories on the second level."

"How do you avoid running out of females?" one of the scientists asked.

"Well, that's simple," the man in gray began. "We have designated a special portion of the fourth level for breeding. There are generally between fifty and one-hundred human males living in cells on the fourth and fifth level. Every couple of months, we select anywhere from ten to fifty females and bring them along with an appropriate number of males to the breeding area.

"Once the female gives birth to her infant, generally nine Earth months later (though we are currently researching methods of speeding up the incubation process), we raise the child in our nursery. Once he or she reaches his or her age of maturity (usually between eighteen and twenty Earth years), the male infant is sent to live with the males, and the female infant is sent to the female dorm, soon to join the others in the processing and gathering department.

"Now, if you'll follow me," the man in gray finished, ushering the scientists into the small lecture hall. There were seats down in front, and a table with multiple straps and attachments in the middle of the floor. The scientists each grabbed a seat in the front row.

"The best part of any factory tour is getting to experience the freshest, rawest form of the product. Naturally, you will get to taste fresh human jam right here. But first, a demonstration." The man in gray motioned to the guard at the back of the lecture stage, who opened a door behind him and brought in a female prisoner.

The girl was entirely naked and shaved from the waist down. She had a wild look in her eyes and stood trembling in front of the scientists. She looked no older than eighteen.

"Is she all right?" one scientist asked.

"She's one of our newest subjects," the man in gray answered. "We find that the youngest and least experienced females tend to produce the most jam, which is why we tend to select them for our tour demonstrations. Now, if you'll please." He gestured to the guard, who lifted the girl and placed her on the table. The man in gray walked towards the guard and helped him pull the girl's legs apart at the knee, lift her arms above her head, and tighten bonds around her knees, ankles, wrists, elbows, waist, hips, and around her head. By the time they had finished, she was rendered quite motionless, but the scientists could still see her shaking.

"Oh, almost forgot," the man in gray chuckled, producing a gag. He placed the gag inside the girl's mouth and fastened the sides of it to a couple of buckles adjacent to her head on the table. "Sometimes the females, especially the new ones, can get a little loud during the jam-making process. We like to keep them quiet. It makes the demonstration easier. Now, then."

The man in gray walked to a smaller table next to the girl, whose breathing quickened. There, he pulled a couple of latex gloves out of a box and picked up a small metal vibrator.

"When we first landed on Earth, we found these little things everywhere," he explained. "We soon learned that the humans had invented them for the sheer purpose of stimulating their sexual organs. Naturally, they were quite useful, but we've developed some slight alterations to make them even more effective."

"What sort of alterations?" one of the scientists in the audience asked. The man in gray smiled.

"The vibrator's maximum speed on their planet was around 3000 to 3600 vibrations per minute. We've doubled that speed as well as the intensity."

"Is that even safe?"

"Usually."

The vibrator began to hum. The man in gray stepped towards the girl on the table, whose breath began to quicken again as her eyes peered down as far as they could at the latex-covered hands between her legs. Those hands felt around the girl's cunt lips until they found the hood of her clitoris, lifted said hood, and pressed the vibrator onto the now-exposed clit.

The girl started howling and bucking her hips- or, that's what she would have been doing if she could have made a sound or moved her body in any way. The bonds had rendered her quite motionless, and her gag kept her from making any sort of sound outside of a faint mewing noise that the scientists could barely hear. She was clearly trying to resist, but she could not get away from the vibrator, and the man in gray continued to massage her gently but clinically from the inside.

The girl began to cum after approximately 30 seconds, but the man in gray refused to let up. She screamed into her gag, or at least appeared to be doing so, as her face began to contort, wrinkles and stress marks appearing. After a few minutes, her face began to loosen and her eyes started to close. After six intense orgasms, some three minutes later, she began to pass out. Just before reaching unconsciousness, the man in gray removed his hands and the vibrator and motioned to the guard, who injected the girl with an adrenaline substance. She awoke immediately, jumping as high as she could within her bonds (which was no more than an inch), and the guard removed a small bowl from under the table. The exhausted but wired female flooded the bowl with her juices immediately.

"There we go," the man in gray murmured, feeling the last of the girl's contractions as she slumped back down onto the table, her limbs twitching slightly.

"When the females spasm like that, it's called an orgasm," he explained to the scientists. "Their bodies become hot, their vaginal cavities begin to contract, and finally, they produce lovely jam for us. This female has just had six orgasms, but see how strong those few orgasms were! This is why we use the younger, less experienced females for our demonstrations."

The scientists started to murmur as the man in gray removed his gloves and produced a small butter knife and a few crackers.

"Now, then," he smiled. "There's some for everyone. Line up, and be careful not to scratch her- we don't need any damaged livestock."

The scientists began to scoop little helpings of the girl's juices onto the crackers. When the bowl was empty, the remaining scientists dipped the knife straight into her exposed cunt, producing faint moans and new samples for their crackers. When the room was filled with satisfied grunts and chewing sounds, the man in gray motioned for the guard to unbind the girl and usher her back through the door. The scientists followed him through the door on the other side into the processing and gathering room.

The new room was huge. There were guards everywhere. Every surface was covered in steel or chrome, and the floors gleamed. But what made every scientist gasp was what aligned the walls of the facility.

The walls were divided into several hundred small, glass-covered cells. Inside each of these cells was a bound female.

These females were not gagged, and the scientists could see them clearly screaming or moaning, though the sound proofed glass prevented the scientists from hearing them. Their breasts were covered by pumps, and their lower areas were completely encased in clear bowls fastened around their waists and upper thighs. The women sat in chairs with their legs spread and their backs straight, their arms and legs bound to the sides of the chairs as they bucked back and forth inside of the bowls.

"Inside of each of those bowls are three vibrators," the man in gray explained. "One sits directly on top of the female's clitoris, acting as a sort of stable version of the vibrator I showed you before, and the other two pump in and out of the female's vaginal and rectal cavities. They move around and vibrate and are generally there to stimulate every portion of the female's sexual organs.

"Now, the human female is unique to her species in that she is capable of producing multiple orgasms, as we saw before. We try not to wear our women out- after all, we need them to continue producing jam for years on end- but we do like to get as much out of them as possible. After all, there has been an increasingly high demand for our product since we first discovered Earth. To insure that we gain as much as possible without damaging our females, we generally have them produce as many orgasms per session, each session lasting an hour. Due to the intensity of our stimulations, the average number of orgasms in this time period tends to be somewhere between twenty-five and two hundred, varying by age and sensitivity. There are around three hundred cells in this room alone, so this allows us to rotate the number of women as frequently as possible. You can do the math to figure out how many sessions a woman can have in a week."

The scientists laughed and continued staring in awe at the human females as they bucked and moaned in their little glass cells, each wearing a mask of fear, pain, or, most frequently, lust. As the scientists watched, the girls came again and again in turn around the facility, and the glass bowls were splattered with their juices, all to have it disappear almost immediately into the pipes below the chairs.

"Inside this facility, we produce enough jam every day to accommodate nearly every person on our planet," the man in gray smiled.

"Now, then. Let's head for the gift shop."