The FSRA

Sperm Amok

  Megan, my Mint Striper (so called because of the short dress with light green stripes she wore each day), was cute, kind, and treated me like a loved pet. She had the loveliest sandy hair, cut short but fluffy and a little curly. Her freckle sprinkled face made her look a little younger than she was. I figured she was about 18 or 19. A fully developed figure was clearly visible beneath her uniform. Most of the time I saw her I was at the level of her legs and knees, and I became familiar with them in detail. Sometimes I was lucky enough to see her legs up to the point they connected with her body.

  She was so lovely, so sexy, it was all I could do to keep from trying to satisfy my chemically induced lust on her young body. Once or twice I actually tried. Not even thinking about it I attempted to climb up her leg and hump her like a dog. I didn't do this too many times, as it resulted in a stunning jolt from a cattle prod. She was kind, but she had her limits.

  One evening, Megan came in to the milking room a little early, and unhooked me. Any change in routine was eagerly accepted, so boring was life in that clean white hell. My leash replaced on my collar I was lead back to my room, and my urethral drain was unclamped, allowing me to evacuate the urine that inevitably built up painfully during the day. She reclamped it, provided some food and water, and left, locking the door behind her.

  About an hour later, she returned. This was also unusual, and I padded over to her on my stumps, looking up curiously, making a small whining sound. It looked like something was wrong with her. She was distracted, upset, or something. Maybe a little flushed. I couldn't tell. I wanted to make her feel better, she was my owner, the only good thing in my life, the only thing of color... but all I could do was sit on my haunches and whine.

  She looked down at me, and kindly stroked my hair and face, a strange sad smile on her face. Unexpectedly she sat down, with her back against the opposite wall, facing me. She seemed to be thinking hard, and her left hand slowly reached under her dress and pulled it up, exposing herself to me. Her hand then traveled between her legs and pulled her panties to the side. She started rubbing herself gently.

  My eyes were huge, my erection as hard as ever, and I almost went forward to her, to take her and enter her. How could I resist? But the feeling of the debilitating cattle prod was still in my memory, and I held back. She seemed to be thinking as she self-stimulated, slowly and thoughtfully rubbing. I stared, seeing every bit of her wetness spreading around her genitalia, I could hardly control myself.

  It must have been obvious the mental anguish I was in, wanting her but afraid to approach. She suddenly looked at me with a new look, as if a decision had been made. She stood, reached behind her and unzipped the back of her dress. It fell to the floor, revealing an incredible, youthful, muscular body of perfection. Fear struck me, the fear of not being able to control myself with her in this state and then being shocked with the prod. I ran to the corner and whimpered as she undid her bra, revealing perfect breasts and erect nipples. I hid my face as her panties came off, and she was naked in front of me.

  My erection throbbed all the way in to my testicles, pounding with the desire for release. She softly padded over to me on bare feet, took my collar, and guided me to the bed where she thrust me on my back. Thus exposed in front of her, she climbed up, straddled me, took my rock hard penis, and slid it slowly but steadily in to her.

  As many orgasms as I had experienced in the past weeks being milked, nothing could compare with the real, live, soft, wet, wonderful woman that enveloped me at that moment. A few thrusts, met by her grinding on my pelvis as she moaned, and I climaxed hard, spurting a huge amount of semen in to her. I grunted, moaned, pushing, emptying myself. It was amazing. Incredible. And it didn't stop.

  Once I climaxed, I should have tired and withdrawn, but the drugs kept me going. She continued to grind on top of me, running her hips up and down, sideways, every way to create every sensation possible, and I remained rock hard and as eager to continue as ever. She had an orgasm, I could see the flush on her chest and neck, and then I climaxed again.

  This went on, and on... neither of us stopping, neither wanting it to stop until we collapsed from exhaustion. She lay next to me on the bed, panting, gasping for air, as did I. Sweat covered both our bodies, making them shiny. I could not hold her, as my stubs could not reach around her, but I nuzzled her neck and cheek affectionately.

  After recovering sufficiently, Megan rose and moved to put on her clothes. As she walked over to them, she discovered an interesting side effect of our session. I had produced so much semen; it had filled her to overflowing. It drained down her leg like a small river now that she was standing.

  She went to the toilet to let some of it drain, and then wiped herself clean with the sheets from the bed. It took longer than she expected. Just as she thought the last had come out, more leaked down in small rivulets, the evidence of my massive ability to orgasm repeatedly, and ejaculate semen each time. I was a sperm producer, after all.

  Finally cleaned and dressed, she opened the door, looked back at me once with a strange look of thoughtfulness and worry, and then left. I lay on my bed, wondering what this meant, but glad it had happened.

  I loved her. I wasn't <em><strong>in </strong></em>love with her, I don't think I could have been. But I loved her as a dog loves his master, willing to do anything for her. She was my life, my focus. She had complete control over me, my body, and my emotions.

  The next few days were as normal, up in the morning, eat and drink, out to the milking room, lay on the bed and produce sperm all day, back to the room, eat, drink, sleep. Megan gave no recognition or hint of what had passed between us that night.

  Then one day as I was laying on my platform waiting for the next round of stimulation which would coax more sperm from my body, the door opened from the end of the long room and a number of people entered. All the Stubbies looked down, this was the most unusual event that had occured in some time. Led by the tall austere doctor that had originally greeted me, were about 8 or 10 visitors in suits or casual business clothes, including three women. They were receiving a tour, being shown the operations and having the process of milking sperm explained to them.

  "The Stubbies are provided with solid nutrition and plenty of fluids. They need this in order to replace the fluids lost during the milking process, of course. The direct catheterization you see below their scrotum allows us to drain their bladders without contaminating the semen.

  "Mixed in their food and water are a variety of chemicals designed to increase sperm and semen production. As you can see these have the effect of swelling their testicles. The increased sperm production also increases their sex drive significantly, so much so that they must be kept restrained at all times, or they would become quite dangerous."

  One of the women in the back of the group was staring at my swollen penis, and asked tentatively, "They seem quite... well endowed. Have any of the staff... well... tried them out personally?"

  The doctor laughed disdainfully, "No... I don't think so. Not only is it against the rules to intentionally remove and waste their sperm, its simply... well, they aren't really human after all. They are more like...animals. I don't think anyone here would have sex with one of these any more than they would with a dog!"

  They filed past, and in the back of the group I saw several Mint Stripers, including Megan, who was looking at the floor and whose face had turned bright red. As she passed, another series of impulses hit me and I began sliding in to yet another orgasm...

  Seven days later, Megan again came to me in the evening. I could tell she was drunk this time. She undressed herself quickly, and this time seemed angry. I cowered in the corner, and she grabbed me roughly, pulled me to the bed, and lay naked with her legs spread wide. There was really no way for me to suppress my urges. I mounted her, and we cycled through orgasm after orgasm together for what seemed like hours. I could have gone on forever, but she became worn out (something I had never experienced in my life).

  After cleaning herself of the copious amounts of my semen draining from inside of her, she dressed, kissed me once, and left.  Semen from the whole experience covered the sheets of the bed. I lay in a pool of my own ejaculate, and dreamed of Megan as I slept that night.

  Life continued predictable over the next few weeks, though several of the other sperm producers left during this time. There was no indication what had happened. One day they simply were not there. Two new ones were added, and it was strange watching them adapt and transform themselves in the docile Stubbies we were destined to become.

  Then one morning, I was awakened at the usual time, but not by Megan. Another Mint Striper, one that I had seen tending to other Stubbies, was there. She hooked the leash to my collar and we stumped down the hall. But we went the other direction.  Something was wrong, very wrong. I started whining and making query noises. She ignored me.

  After a long walk we stumped through a door in to a new room that looked much like the milking room in which I had spent so much time. But this time, instead of platforms with Stubbies lying comfortably with their genitalia hanging down, there were several things that looked like form fitting beds with straps hanging down. On two of the beds lay strange figures that I could not understand.

  I was seated and strapped to a metal chair facing the wall. The doctor came in, and did a quick exam of my nose, eyes, mouth and ears. All appeared well and she inserted a feeding tube up my nose and in to my stomach. Bad memories of being force fed by Vicki at the prison rushed back to my mind and I began squealing and struggling. The result was an injection and moments later I felt a flood of relaxation. I ceased to be afraid and simply dosed as they worked on me.

  After preparations were complete, I was led over to one of the empty beds. As I obediently climbed on, I was able to see the figures in the other beds were also Stubbies, like me. They were laying on their backs, but they didn't seem to have heads. This worried me a little, but I was floating pretty high by then and didn't really care too much. I lay down on my back, and was strapped down at my chest and waist. With my arms and legs still strapped back on themselves in my Stubby restraints, I was helpless to move much at all.

  My head lay in a strange form fitted cradle. It was hard, but not uncomfortable. My view of the ceiling above was suddenly obscured by an object which was brought above my head, and then lowered on to my face.

  With a rush of panic, I understood. My head was being placed in a metal tight form-fitting helmet, with no openings except for the feeding tube which was threaded through one of two small holes positioned at the nostrils. My body was exposed, but my head was encapsulated, entombed as it were, in a padded metal helmet that was bolted to the bed and allowed for no movement, no vision, no hearing, no talking or noises to escape....

  My stubby arms and legs flailed, I screamed repeatedly, jerking and thrashing against the restraints, regardless of the relaxant drugs I was on. Being mummified was enough to panic anyone at any level of consciousness. After a bit, I had no strength left, and stopped struggling, simply laying on the form fitting bed, my arm and leg stubs splayed out to the sides obscenely.

  After a while, I felt a slow flow of liquid through my feeding tube.

  A little while longer, and I felt some sort of equipment strapped to my genitals.

  It was dark, and quiet. I could not move. I could not hear or see or taste. I existed only in a floating darkness.

  A while later, the first electrical impulses rippled through my hardened penis and I orgasmed, ejaculating a huge load.

  Silence and darkness covered my world. My mind began filling the darkness with images. I heard small sounds, though I did not know whether they were real or not.

  The electrical impulses began again, small shocks which quickly brought me to orgasm, ejecting more semen.

  I began counting the orgasms, trying to see how long I had been there.  After I got to about 150, I lost count...  by then<em> </em>I was hallucinating and was seeing people, feeling their touch and even conversing with them.

  Sleep came and went, but I could not tell when.

  I screamed, again and again... or did I? Was that just another hallucination?

  I was no longer a sperm producing animal. My mind was no longer of value.

  I was a sperm producing machine, without a mind.