Life on Mars

But like most men, his will gave way as soon as he felt fingers curl around his cock.

The wipe-clean wall behind him lost its chill as his body heat seeped into it, and he gradually half-relaxed into it, was half pressed into it by Jann (and about four other hands, lest he wriggle free), and he closed his eyes as the delicious and illicit sensation of being forced to ejaculate washed over him, from his crotch, all the way up his taught belly, and his muscular chest flushed invisibly under his dark skin. It wasn't really like he had a choice, given that many strong men held him pressed back against the wall. There was a freedom in that. He had to let this happen, and so he did. He could feel the orgasm building (Jann really actually was quite good at wanking), and there was only one future, one where Jann made him cum. So he let him. Danti pressed his hips back into the cold wall, shuffled his feet apart to better free up his pelvic floor, and relaxed. If Jann, if everyone, wanted an orgasm, then they were going to have it. And it was going to be huge.

~#~#~

Before very long at all Jann could feel Danti's cock twitching in his hand. He could feel the familiar way the cock pulsed and stiffened even more, knew that Danti was close. It was such a sexy feeling, making somebody else cum, and making another man cum for the first time, under the gaze of so many other men... kinks were being layered upon kinks.

Jann was alive to everything. Could feel all those eyes on him, the clouds of steam, could hear the encouragement, but most of all could feel the semen coursing through Danti's urethra, could feel it pulse against his fingertips, feel Danti's whole body go rigid as he yielded to the orgasm. Jann felt Danti's cum land hot and wet on his belly, splashing his crotch and thigh. Hot, wet, electric. It was a feeling he'd remember for the rest of his life.

~#~#~

Colleen, freshly showered and pink from the heat, shrugged into the very short blue tunic that was waiting for her and then spent a minute looking for the bottom half of it which, eventually she realised, was omitted on purpose. She was ushered into a very sterile, austere room. A clinical grey, from the polished concrete floor to the crisp ceiling with its recessed squares of light which let in, albeit through UV screens, the sunlight from outside.

She was guided in by a polite attendant, a woman of about thirty years, who wore the dark blue scrubs of the medical ward. In the middle of the room was a chair, the kind that, thanks to the leather straps and brass buckles, wouldn't have been out of place in an old Earth mental hospital. But here it was, waiting for her.

~#~#~

At the genetics lab, which was between the Depository and the Court, the twenty vials of semen came in. Held in a temperature controlled rack, two technicians worked them one by one, removing a sample and analysing for sperm count and volume. Each sample took about a minute so within quarter of an hour the samples were all analysed, documented, and the vials emptied into one large stainless steel canister. The canister was sealed, taken over to a small machine which very gently shook the canister to disseminate its contents, homogenising the sample, and adding in a fluid designed to nourish the sperm, and hormones to help the womb lining accept a fertilized egg. In total, the fluid the Vessel was expected to receive amounted to about 200ml. The average amount ejaculated by a man was 5ml. The machine delivered forty times that.

~#~#~

Once Colleen was seated and as comfortable as could be expected, the attendant fastened her in, wrapping wide leather straps around her thighs, ankles and forearms, so that she would be fixed in place while the procedure took place. Once the Vessel was secured, the next step was to inject her with a cocktail of chemicals to induce wetness, encouraging the Bartholin gland to produce an abundance of moisture to deal with the robotic appendage that would not lubricate itself, so that artificial lubrication would not interfere with the process.

The attendant busied herself with a small vial of a clear liquid and a syringe, inverting the vial and piercing its foil top with the imperceptibly thin needle, drawing the liquid into it.

She wheeled the chair between Colleen's spread legs and looked up at her, her words billowing her mask. "You're going to feel two tiny scratches now, okay? Take a deep breath, count to ten, and it'll be done".

Leaning forward, close, the attendant reached towards Colleen, teased her vulva apart with her fingers, spreading her labia until the delicate and bright pink skin was exposed, into which she inserted the needle and injected a little of the fluid. This she did on both sides, and as she looked up Colleen let out a whoosh of air.

"Was that anaesthetic?" she asked.

"God no! No, you'll have to feel it. You will probably enjoy it, if you can relax enough. Some do. Some just can't. This is your first time, so I can understand your nerves, but really, try to relax."

"What was it then? What did you just inject into me?"

"It's a synthetic hormone, is all. Something to get your Bartholin glands going. To get you very wet. They don't want to use artificial lubrication, they want the biological experience to be as natural as possible."

And sure enough, the serum had already taken effect. Colleen felt instantly very wet, and had the curious feeling of being physically aroused while in her mind she was in a polar opposite mood.

She felt her wetness run down her ass, felt it practically running down. "Oh my god this feels insane! How long will this go on for?"

"Your body will metabolise it within an hour, but you'll be incredibly wet for about twenty minutes or so, before your glands slow down. You'll be okay. We won't turn you into a husk. We need you self-lubricating for the full length of the procedure, and naturally; even if you were really aroused, it wouldn't really be enough. The procedure will take just shy of fifteen minutes; the average time sex takes under normal circumstances." She moved then, and Colleen watch her move to the side of the room, and wheel something large back with her, something the size of a tall fridge, something draped in the same cloth as her scrubs. As they approached, the cloth slid off.

Between Colleen's legs the attendant wheeled forward a large silvery machine. It had a humanoid shape, for sure, although whether by accident or design it wasn't easy to say. It loomed over her as she lay prone, legs held wide apart, and strapped to the chair. The attendant wheeled the device in close, then locked the wheels to stop it rolling around. She then snapped it into place against the table and rattled it to see that it was secure. It wasn't going anywhere.

The metal thing in front of Colleen is humanoid, for sure, some kind of robot, perhaps. The attendant tells her it used to make human noises, but the speaker is broken because somebody squirted on it. The robot was predominantly shiny, with the odd patch of paint, but although it had originally been painted skin tone for realism, years of cleaning had worn it away, leaving a shiny, "muscular" metallic torso for Colleen to stare at.

At its crotch it had a hollow threaded rod, at a height that matched the chair, and it pointed straight out and menacingly at Colleen's exposed vagina. There was no way that was going anywhere near her, she thought!

On a stainless steel tray implement tray that the attendant then wheeled beside her, the sterile gauze whipped off, lay three realistic silicone facsimiles of penises, in three different sizes. The first, small, maybe a little thicker than a finger, lay parallel to another silicone penis, this one perhaps two fingers thick, and slightly longer. The third and largest was easily three big fingers thick, and impossibly long, longer than Colleen's whole hand.

Seeing as this was Colleen's first time, the attendant picked up the smallest and asked "is this okay?"

"That looks okay" Colleen squeaked in reply, then cleared her throat and said again, "that looks okay."

Small silicone penis in hand, the attendant rubbed the tip of it in the moisture that was now nearly pouring from Colleen's vagina, before screwing it onto the thread protruding from the robot. The machine was then adjusted for angle and depth, so that the vessel wasn't hurt in anyway. It was manually cranked and by watching the phallus slowly push its way into Colleen's vagina, reach the top of its push arc and then withdraw, glistening, the attendant knew where to set the guides and axis, so that the Vessel could safely be fucked senseless by this robot.

She guides the phallus inside, feeling the resistance as Colleen's perhaps naturally tight, perhaps just tight with nerves, vagina clenches around the intrusion. Within a few strokes, though, her vagina responded to the stimulation, and the phallus entered and withdrew with a slick sound and dripped cum on its return. Colleen's pale thighs, taught with nerves, tugged against the restraints. Her untanned skin giving way to natural dark blonde curls, framing her vulva. Her labia was light pink, plump, and glistened under the bright surgery lights above her, and it was clear the hormone injection had worked, as a long droplet of her crystal clear wetness stretched its way to join the pool on the floor.

"This isn't at all what I expected" Colleen said quietly. The attendant looked up from double checking the lock-nut on the realistic silicone phallus threaded onto the rod at crotch of the metallic humanoid fuck-robot, and smiled weakly.

"Nobody expects this" she said flatly as she turned on the machine, and the robot started to fuck her.

~#~#~

The boys, by now, were on their way slowly back to their rooms. Some of their dorm-mates were waiting in the corridor for news, for gossip, which they got aplenty. It wasn't every day that one of the Suitors wanked off another in the shower (although it happened way more often than people thought). Some of the newer Suitors went to lie down and assemble their thoughts, the more experienced went into their friend's rooms and carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. After all, until the DNA results came back in nearly a year's time, nothing special had.

~#~#~

Colleen, held back in her chair, craned her neck forward to watch, to see as best as possible what was happening, as if she didn't quite believe the messages her brain was being sent by her vagina. She wasn't a virgin, she'd had plenty of sex and masturbated often, but there was no human between her legs, and it simply did not compute.

Similarly, the intense wetness of her vagina didn't correlate to her mental arousal. How could she expect to orgasm like this? Was she even expected to; was it necessary?

Her hands gripped the arm rest and she gritted her teeth against the sensations. Nothing hurt, nothing was physically uncomfortable, but like being in a dentist chair, even completely numb, her body was on alert. She could feel the thrusting of the machine, feel the semi-soft silicone cock pushing in and sliding back out, could feel how wet she was, how impossibly wet, and yes, just at the fringes, hidden behind tension and nerves and alertness, there was the shadow of pleasure.

Once Colleen had noticed the pleasure lingering at the periphery, once her mind had allowed that it might be possible to feel that too, the feeling grew. The rhythmic thrusting was taking over her concentration, and the austere lights, the leather straps on her thighs, the quiet attendant at her side, all started to fade into the background of her consciousness. Her grip on the chair arms relaxed a little, blood flowing back into her whitened fingers. She shifted her hips so that the cock was rubbing in a much better spot. She sighed and rested her head back. Yes, this was almost pleasurable.

~#~#~

Striding out of the central laboratory is a young man in lab attendant white, a close fitting suit with a wide breasted jacket, and dull grey metal buttons down the front. His face and hair looked pasty, like he'd spent more time inside than out, even considering the elevated levels of radiation here.

Without knocking, the lab attendant pushes the door to the Court open, and walks purposefully over to the machine in the centre of the room. The room, as usual during his visits, smells powerfully of sex, of vagina. It fills the air densely, warmly, and his eyes close as he inhales deeply. It always took him by surprise just how nuanced and varied it could be, like every woman had a signature scent. He wondered if, given long enough, he could identify women from their scent. Science was good for that. Every hypothesis potentially provable through rigorous experimentation. He inhaled deeply again.

He sees the timer on the machine has a few minutes left to run. As he inserts the cylinder of semen into the side of the machine, pushing it until it pops like an ink cartridge in a fountain pen, he turns his head to see who is in the chair. He doesn't recognise the girl, but he finds her attractive. Her face is pale, but her cheeks flush as her eyes meet his. Her long reddish hair spills over her face, and she's craning her neck forwards to see better.

~#~#~

Colleen's mouth is a perfect circle of surprise and ecstasy as the fifteen minutes draws to a close. She cannot believe the extent of her arousal, how the physical sensations had overridden her initial fear and tension. Now she was trying not to shout at it to fuck her harder.

A male technician suddenly loomed at the side of the machine. Their eyes meet and lock, Colleen thrown by this sudden addition of another human. Her brain, continuing to process this entirely new experience, locks onto the technician as a human, as something familiar and possibly sympathetic. She holds his gaze, and smiles at him hopefully. But their stare breaks when the technician looks down, between Colleen's splayed legs, to watch the robotic cock fuck her absolutely drenched pussy. She blushes hard then, watching him greedily drink her in with his eyes, sees him lick his lips. Her wetness splashes around with every thrust, her pubic hair is beaded with it, her skin glistening under the austere lights. A steady drip of her cum pools on the floor beneath the restraining chair.

Colleen's vulva is pink and plump and glistening, her soft labia clinging to the wet inseminating phallus as it pushes in and withdraws mechanically. He notes that she picked the smallest, and guesses this must be only her first or second time in the chair.

While he watches, the machine starts to pick up pace and, sure enough, the clock indicates two minutes run time remaining. The poor girl in the chair, he thinks, doesn't know what's coming next. So to speak. He giggled at that. The attendant cleared her throat and he took that as his cue to leave, slowly, reluctantly, dragging his eyes away from the poor or lucky girl's pussy. He didn't know how they felt. They were kept apart afterwards, so he'd never had chance to find out.

With one last long look at Colleen's crotch, the attendant turns to leave the room, as the clock counts down beyond thirty seconds. His walk across the floor is stiff and hobbled, as his erection strains against his uniform. He cannot wait to finish work.

~#~#~

The machine fucks Colleen harder and faster, artificially introducing the erratic strokes of a lover that is close to climax, mimicking sex as accurately as possibly from numerous candid studies in the dormitories around the planet. Loud wet noises mingle with breathy pants and mechanical whirrings, and inside the machine the semen of Colleen's twenty Suitors is pumped into a chamber at the base of the pneumatic penis. The chamber is made from a flexible silicone that can be cleaned intensively, for one, and can also deliver the semen at approximately the speed that a human male ejaculates. The engineers had a particularly hard time getting the delivery method to accurately replicate that of a human, but in doing their best but to a budget and a deadline, they settled on delivering it in spurts, at pace, and their approximation meant that the machine delivered seven spurts (the average) over four seconds (the average) which meant that the nearly 200 millilitres of semen mixture had to be delivered at three times the speed of the average orgasm, and at six times the typical total volume. In short, the Vessel's vaginas were being blasted with a huge quantity of semen. Some Vessels enjoyed that sort of thing.

As the machine fucks her faster, the droplets of her juices spray further and further, and she can feel it splashing all down her thighs and lower legs. The room smells incredible, and alongside the well-oiled hum of the machine she can hear the repeated sucking sound as the cock is driven in and out of her pussy. Her hips buck as best they can to meet it, to welcome it now, to get the angle just right as she feels the whole experience build to a climax. She feels finally like she might orgasm. Just another few seconds maybe... and then a new sensation, as, at the top of its stroke, as deep as it gets, the silicone cock inside her swells a little and erupts with a huge jet of cum. It squirts strongly, deeply, and then withdraws, pushes back inside, swelling as it re-enters, disgorges another huge jet of semen, withdraws again, thrusts back in, more cum, out, in, another spurt of cum, the cum of the twenty young men who had watched her shower and ejaculated for her, and slowly, under the onslaught of the last few deep strokes of the machine, the last few pulses of fluid inside her, she finally did come. She tensed her whole body against the restraints, her pussy clenched hard, hard enough that the pitch of the machine changed as it worked a little harder to push in that one last time, to deliver that last huge jet of cum, and then withdrew, leaving Colleen's pussy gaping and dripping and swollen with arousal. Colleen lay back, expecting the cock again, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling, sucking in huge breaths, and watching the stars that danced in her eyes.

~#~#~

It took Colleen several minutes to get her breath back. The room was eerily quiet once the machine had stopped fucking her. Colleen lay still on her cushioned chair, the attendant sat on her stool, leaning forward, her hands clasped between her knees, waiting for Colleen to look at her. This was Colleen's first time, it was not the attendant's first time. She would wait as the Vessel slowly processed the last half an hour, and when she was ready, the attendant would help her off the bench and into a shower cubicle.

Colleen did eventually turn her head towards the attendant, who smiled and stood. Helping her from the restraints, the attendant helped Colleen to close her legs (they'd been held apart for almost forty minutes by now) and she rubbed a soothing lotion into the red marks where Colleen had strained against her binds.

The attendant, still with her blue nitrile gloves, softly massaged the lotion into Colleen's full, wet vulva, gently circling her opening with the tip of her gloved middle finger. Colleen winced, and the attendant apologised, continuing even more gently than before. Gradually the lotion worked to ease the sensitivity of her vulva and of the red rectangles on her skin.

Once her swollen vulva had been attended to, and the red marks on her legs where she'd been strapped to the chair, Colleen was helped upright, and guided bow-legged back towards the door she came in through. Together they retraced her movements back towards her room, taking the suite in reverse order: showering, dressing and back out. The attendant stayed with her throughout, helping her dry, helping her dress, and helping her into bed. She told Colleen that someone would bring up her dinner shortly, and after that she'd have a counselling session as part of her ongoing care. She was going to be a mother. Maybe not this time, but soon. If the test results were negative in three weeks time, then she'd be attending Court again. And again, and again, until she fell pregnant. The attendant squeezed her hand and made for the exit.