Contained Ch. 03

Two keepers guided me, number 9, number 12, and number 17 to the breeding area.

"Aren't you fellas lucky today huh!" One of them commented.

We all knew better than to respond in any way or form.

"Here I am working around the clock, while you get to fuck like bunnies. Talk about fair... Well, here we are, in you go." He said as he tapped the door with his baton.

The four of us silently shuffle through yet another transparent sliding door. Unfortunately, the whole breeding room is transparent. Imagine a big square glass room. Outside the room, is a secondary attached room. That's where the 'scientists' sit and analyze us. Their job is to pick slaves with maximum breeding potential and match them with the most ideal fertile females. They have studied our DNA, lineage, genetics, bloodwork, stamina, cognitive abilities, and any other information or traits that might help them make the perfect match. Once a female is bred, she carries the child to term, only to have it be taken away from her a few months later when the child is strong enough. We assume the children are sold to childless couples because the preferred slaves for this job seem to all be athletic or slim build with a good amount of intelligence, and no disorders or disabilities.

"Females, plank." A voice sounds through a speaker system.

The females slowly but dutifully lay down on the only devices present in the room.

The 'planks' that the scientist is referring to can be best described as immobilization benches with leather padding. Imagine a short leather bench with a hole cut out so that the female can lie face down. Their vagina and ass hang slightly off the edge on the other side. Their knees and arms can rest comfortably on lower-positioned sidepieces. The bench is slightly tilted downwards so that their pussy is positioned higher than their head. Apparently, that helps the semen to settle in better. The benches can be altered in height to fit the length of the 'suitor'. It basically keeps the females in a 'doggy-style' position.

One female, a young-looking girl, suppressed a sob as she slowly placed herself on the bench. From her behavior, I take it that this is all fairly new to her. From the corner of my eye, I peek and see that she's still wearing a voice collar.

As soon as the females have settled on the benches, our keepers start to fasten the restraints around their arms and legs.

"Number 17. Hole one."

"Number 9. Hole two."

"Number 7. Hole three."

"Number 12. Hole four."

I curse inwardly. The girl that is now full-on crying received number twelve. A large man, known for being relentlessly obedient. He carries a larger cage than most of us.

We position ourselves in front of our assigned female, or 'hole' as they are referred to here.

Once we are positioned, the keepers come to us one by one. First, they remove the chastity cage from around our dicks with a sort of 'one-size-fits-all' pass-key. The master keys always remain with the Mistress. Job functionality is just a temporary exception to the chastity rule.

Next, they'll give us an injection that generates a crazy high libido surge. I've seen it turn some of the men into animal-like beings that do nothing but thrust and grunt. It's hard to describe, but it feels like you're filled with very intense energy, and you can't think about anything else than fucking. It creates an urge so strong it's nearly maddening. Like an itch, you can't scratch. It makes our dicks so hard it hurts, and it lasts for a good two hours. It's some product that the scientists here came up with in their lab tests. I slightly wince as I feel the sharp pain of the needle in my left butt cheek.

Our job is simple... We have to fuck the slaves in front of us and shoot our load. Then we rotate to the next assigned hole. And again, and again, and again..., until they decide we can stop.

Sometimes, the job ends after two hours, sometimes after five hours. I haven't been able to figure out how they determine the time. There are always more injections in case dicks give out, or if males get too unenergetic.

"Begin."

I'm torn by inner conflicting feelings. I hate doing this to another slave, but it's impossible not to. I can almost smell the pussy before me, it's glistening with wetness, no doubt also the scientists' doing. My dick feels like it's about to explode. If I don't ram it in the hole in front of me right now, I'll go crazy.

I try to go as slow as my body will let me, but as soon as the tip of my dick touches her soft flesh, I can't hold back. I shove my whole length in and start pumping like a machine. The poor girl beneath me whimpers and grunts, her face is contorted in a painful scowl, but I can't help myself. Her pussy feels so nice..., warm,... tight,... and so wet... I can hear the sloppy sound of my balls beating up her wet lips. I start grunting as well, I want to shoot my load so badly.

My nails are digging into her hips, and I see a bit of spit fly out of my mouth and land on her back. I can't think of anything else but fucking. It feels so good after being deprived for three weeks in which I held other jobs. I see a tear rolling over the girl's cheek as I pick up the pace even more so. A barely-human grunt escapes my throat as I can't hold back anymore and shoot a large load of cum deep into her hole. My job is done.

Panting heavily, I take a step back.

"Well done number 7."

I place my arms back behind my back and wait for the others to finish. My penis still standing rock-hard, dripping with wetness and cum. I can almost see the veins pulsating, and I try my hardest not to submit to the urge of plowing into the hole before me once more.

"It's the injection..., I tell myself. The injection made you do that. Not you. It wasn't you...".

Anything to console my aching conscience.

When everyone has finished, the voice sounds once more.

"Rotating."

"Number 12. Hole one."

"Number 17. Hole two."

"Number 9. Hole three."

"Number 7. Hole four."

I curse inwardly as I look at my newest hole. It's the one number twelve finished up in. The poor girl's hole is simply gaping, and a small trickle of blood runs down her thigh. I can't see the girl's face, but I'm pretty sure she is crying.

"Fucking animals..." I curse inwardly as I position myself.

"Begin!"

And there I go again. Thrusting as if my life depended on it.