VY Ch. 08-11

"Why the curiosity, Beccy?" "It's that this is an unidentified enzyme, with an unknown effect on your body from it, and it is prevalent in relatively high concentration. I would like to run a full chem panel, protein analysis and a genetic sequencing on a fresh blood sample to determine just what exactly this stuff is and what it is doing to you.

"Okay, not a problem as long as you don't need a marrow sample again," Braedon jokes.

With multivitamin in hand and sample given, he is once again on his way to tour the remaining finished sections of the house with the next stop, the Parlor and adjoining Sports Bar. As he walked the property, many wives greeted him warmly, offering hugs or kisses. Occasionally, one of them would get feisty and pinch or smack his butt cheek before scampering off to escape retaliation. A few of the wives had even gone further, purposely grinding into him with their bountiful booty or reaching down to stroke him with one hand while hugging him with the other arm around his midsection.

Finally, half an hour later, Braedon reaches the garage, which was constructed with a special area reserved for his use since he had been approved, as his exception request, for a 4x4 with a roll cage and garage to store and maintain it. They had customized extensively the garage with a poly coated scuff-resistant marble floor, steel-punched peg board on the walls for tools they approved him to use, which almost entirely comprised non-powered tools with the exception of a buffing wheel.

On two walls sat three-tiered toolboxes, appropriately harnessed to the wall, of course, along another wall a long workbench complete with Tigerwood bench-top and the last wall had a tall door leading to the main garage and the outside grounds. That wasn't all his garage had to offer, though. Oh, no. Parked in the center was the pride and joy, his 4x4 dream machine.

His brand-new John Deere Gator XUV865R Signature Edition, all options and the parking spot emblazoned with the John Deere logo in big, bold Green and Yellow. He had always been a huge John Deere fan growing up, especially when his family lost their home to a tornado and the only thing holding up their garage roof was their John Deere tractor, which managed to only get a torn seat and a busted light fixture.

So, when he discovered they also sold Gator 4x4s, he knew one day he had to have one. He was itching to take this beauty out to the trail around the property, if only there weren't such high demands placed on him right now. "Soon beautiful," Braedon kissed the one beauty he could ride right now goodbye before heading out of the garage toward the theater.

A few minutes later, he walked up to the entrance to the theater. The construction boss, being notified of Braedon's planned visit, made plans to meet him on-site as the facility was still being completed.

"Good evening Mr. Owens. I trust you're enjoying yourself at your new home."

"Oh yes, definitely! Everything has been top notch, better than I even imagined it to be when it was being designed with the architect."

"That is great to hear. My team prides itself on our attention to detail, as well as our highly effective construction techniques. Based on our project manager's calculations, she has projected total construction completion within one year."

"Wow! Busy little worker bees! Well, I see you're working hard to finish the theater, so I'll get out of your hair and let you get back to your work. Thank you for everything again."

As the evening wound down, Braedon decided it was probably a better idea to get an early start to getting to sleep. It had already proved to be a busy, hectic first couple of days.

Approaching his Master Bedroom, a door to a nearby bedroom opened and several pairs of hands reached out to yank him from the hallway. Inside the bedroom were at least fifteen of his wives, kneeling facing a wide bed, resembling a long sectional. All of them prominently displaying their womanhood, like a trophy. Except, in this case, it would be Braedon mounting each of them to fill them with their reward.

The action started out pretty much as he had expected, at least until he had injected each of the kneeling wives with their prize. Then the wives parted from the middle of the bed and four other wives stepped forward to lift Braedon onto the bed. Then things got kinky as the wives each took a position with his limbs at the top and bottom of the bed.

They then each pulled forth a set of leather restraints, which they wrapped around and tightened on his wrists and ankles.

"Now it's our turn to ride you until the sun comes up," one of the four wives said. No breaks. No saying you're exhausted. You can sleep though, if you can manage it with the Viagra and a long line of wives waiting their turn to ride you all night long. This was what would become one of the longest, most intense, and deeply exhausting nights of his life here. Fifteen straight hours of being milked completely dry, many times experiencing what felt like dry orgasms from being drained of all his husbandry fluids. This would become a weekly ritual.

Chapter 9: Settling In And The Complete Story Is Revealed

Two years later and things were finally settling down into a more predictable pattern with Braedon, his wives, and his rapidly growing family from the first two years of pregnancies that had come to fruition. For Braedon, that first year had been a complete blur between finishing construction of the home, the constant demands placed on him to impregnate over 1,300 wives and ten months later being present in the meetings for confirming names of the children he had with the wives. There were more than a few times he found himself just wanting to end everything and give up. He had been so mentally and physically exhausted beyond belief.

Savannah might not have accepted it as a truth that he didn't know if he could keep up with the demands of the house, if it weren't for her husband appearing like a zombie on the precipice of passing out from lack of sleep. Dr. Beccy Owens had done everything within her authority to ease the burden on Braedon, requesting additional training for new reproductive medicine staff, many of which were wives of his, ordering mandatory rest periods for him where he wasn't to be disturbed, prescribing stimulants to make the most of when he was performing his duties, and sleep aids if he ever got a chance. It was all taking a toll on him, and it pained Savannah to see her husband becoming more emaciated as the first several months went by.

After the house construction had completed, Dr. Beccy had trained a minimal staff of about forty wives who could take semen deposits from Braedon, clean them, remove the immobile and poorly developed or immature sperm, and prepare them for implantation in wives awaiting impregnation. While the process was laborious and time-intensive, it seemed to provide enough of a reprieve to allow Braedon to begin recovering his health. Of course, if just having the stamina and fluids and sperm to impregnate all his wives was the only problem, things might be considered easy with the Reproductive Medicine Clinic, but there was still the matter of numerous wives who were simply physiologically incapable of mating with him.

For this, Dr. Beccy Owens re-assigned a few of her newer wife staff members to a new Vaginal Assessment and Acclimatization Program, or VAAP, proposal for which she also put in a requisition to the Family Directors and the ICPD administrator. It had taken about six months with all the red tape and more urgent matters they had to address, but she had finally gotten the approval, and they provided the funding in the following months. Contractors repurposed part of the Art Gallery for the new facility, which worked out well since they could just move some of the homemade artwork to the new room. After four months, Braedon and the Family Directors held the ribbon cutting ceremony for the VAAP facility.

Amaira followed the navigation lights to the door marked 'VAAP' as directed, then knocked softly. A woman's voice from within called to her to enter.

Opening the door, she entered the brightly lit medical room. Dr. Beccy looked up from her screen and surveyed the nubile young woman who had just nervously walked in. Given her light caramel color and features, she was obviously of Indian extraction, and was an undeniable vision of beauty. She was elegantly tall, probably around five-foot nine-inch, with long, shimmering black hair which flowed seemingly forever to just above her shapely rump.

Her selection had been a distinct departure from Braedon's 'usual type'--in his psychological workup at processing he had demonstrated a strong preference for mostly Caucasian and Asian women with very large breasts, but this young woman's slender frame suited her, and a perky chest that practically begged to be teased.

Though her breasts were small compared to his normal preference, they had the advantage of not being weighed down so mercilessly by gravity, and so were quite perky and were topped with the most beautiful, dark brown chocolate nipples, surrounded by the most lovely milk chocolate velvety smooth areolae.

Beccy's gaze traveled downward, to the juncture between Amaira's legs. Her sparse pubic hair had been precisely trimmed into an enticing landing strip above her mons, and a bright blue sapphire glinted in her belly button.

Beccy gulped and subconsciously licked her lips. "Please, take a seat here," she said, indicating a chair next to her by the desk.

"Thank you," Amaira replied. Her voice was like honey, with only a hint of an accent. She sat down and crossed her long, shapely legs.

Beccy turned to face her and smiled. "Well, hello Amaira. By the way, what does 'Amaira' mean?"

Amaira laughed. Her laughter was delightful. "It means 'The one who is forever beautiful'. I think my parents had hopes for me when I was born!"

Beccy's eyes widened. "I think they chose very well. You really are exquisite indeed.

"Anyway, let me explain what this is all about. We have something of... an issue. To put it plainly, as you may have heard, or maybe seen, Braedon, our husband has... how shall I put this, a cock endowed such that it would put a god to shame?"

"Yes, I have seen him walking around. He was certainly impressive in stature, even flaccid," Amaira confirmed.

"The issue we have had has been this. Nearly all of Braedon's new wives have had no sex for six to twelve months, or even longer, because of over-demand from having only one man with which to service over a thousand women. So, in the vast majority of cases, their vaginal openings and birth canal have closed up to a great extent, which means that full intercourse with Braedon will either be impossible, or very painful for both him and the wife.

With so many women to service, he doesn't have the luxury of being able to spend lots of time focusing on foreplay with each woman, getting her prepared, as might have happened in the past, Pre-VY. Obviously, we can't risk Braedon getting hurt in any way, or even sore, for that matter. We need him to be in 100% working order, all day, every day.

"May I please ask you a personal question, did you have many sexual partners, before virus?"

Amaira teared up slightly. "I only ever had coitus with my husband... who is now gone, of course... when we were trying for children, we were very traditional." She looked into the distance, a wistful expression on her face.

Beccy pressed on. "I'm so sorry to press you further on the topic, but I have to ask this... How big was he... down there?"

"Well, about... normal, I suppose," replied Amaira, stammering slightly.

Beccy swiveled in her chair and picked up a plastic case. She flicked the catch and opened the lid. Amaira did a double take when she saw the contents. For nestled inside, set into molded foam, were a set of five lifelike, penis-shaped dildos made from various colors of silicone. The one on the left, a pink finger vibe looking dildo, was quite small, maybe two inches long and half an inch in diameter. The next one, neon blue in color, was around four inches long and one inch in diameter, representing the smaller side of average.

The next one, commonly referred to as the green monster by the wives, was slightly longer at around six inches, but larger in diameter, around one and a half inches, she guessed. The second to last one, a black dildo was sized to be on the larger size of average--at least eight to nine inches long and probably two to two and a half inches in diameter. Then there was the final one which put all the rest to shame, a plasma purple behemoth by any stretch of the imagination, so long and thick that it actually had to be disassembled into two pieces to fit in the box and had the simple name of "OMG!" above it. It looked to be about a foot in length, an anal destroying three inches in diameter, bristling with rippling, throbbing veins, and a head that resembled a Portobello mushroom cap.

Proffering the case to Amaira, Beccy asked, "Can you tell me which one matches your late husband the best, please?"

Amaira studied the case for a moment, half drooling at the thought of being invaded by the largest of them, then pointed to the second one. "About that, I should think," she admitted. "Are you trying to tell me that Braedon is... like that?" she asked, pointing at the fifth fake cock.

"Well, don't let some of the women fool you with their bragging about him, but yes, he is generally between the fourth and fifth dildos in size," answered Beccy. When I was with him when he was fully erect, he was like this." She bent her arm at the elbow, made a fist, then put her elbow on the desk, fist upward. She indicated with the index finger of her other hand, tapping her knuckles, then the crook of her elbow. "There to there, and about the same thickness. That's what you need to accommodate when he is fully erect."

"Oh my!" was all Amaira could muster.

"Which is why," continued Beccy, "we have founded the VAAP initiative. It stands for 'Vaginal Assessment and Acclimatization Program'. Basically, we need to assess your vaginal tensile strength and plasticity, and based on a ranked level of unsuitability, train you to accept his penis. Otherwise, if you are too small, it will be impossible for you to get pregnant through traditional intercourse.

"Which would only leave us with one option, which is AI--artificial insemination, which, as you can probably imagine, has an exceedingly long wait time for appointments which can lead to having no children and hence debarment from the house. The choice really is yours. If you want to be included in the group of wives approved for having sex with him, are you willing to be examined, and if needs be, trained as required?"

Amaira thought for a few moments, blinked back a couple of tears, then nodded. "I don't want to face debarment and even if the sex was always supposed to be strictly for procreation... the thought of never being with a real man again is... quite depressing," she said sadly, looking at her hands in her lap. "So, I consent."

"That's a good start," said Beccy. "Please wave your wristband over the tablet, just here."

Amaira did as she was asked, and the band flashed green-green-green.

"Now, please come over to the couch here. Lay on your back with your bottom at the end, then insert your feet into the stirrups." Beccy guided Amaira, then secured her ankles into the stirrups with a set of velour lined straps. She then pressed a couple of buttons on a panel. Motors whirred quietly, and Amaira's ankles were pulled up backwards and wide apart. Her instinctive reaction was to lower her hand, to cover her flagrantly exposed pussy.

Beccy flicked on an overhead light and moved it to brightly illuminate Amaira's vagina. She eased her hand away, saying, "This is no time for modesty... I need to examine and assess you." Snapping on purple medical gloves, Beccy used her thumbs to part Amaira's outer lips as if spreading the petals of a blooming flower. She was delighted to see a tiny ring had been pierced through her clitoral hood and couldn't resist running a gloved finger over it.

"Oh, I do declare, that is so pretty," she exclaimed, as she continued gently rubbing. Amaira gasped lightly as Beccy's finger teased the little ring. It fascinated Beccy to see that Amaira's clit was engorging quickly and was soon protruding half an inch out of her hood. "Oh, you have a lovely big clit... that is, I mean to say... you have a very well-developed clitoris," in an attempt to return to medical parlance, as she gently rolled her swollen nub between her gloved finger and thumb.

Amaira gasped again, feeling very flustered and more than a little embarrassed, yet so incredibly turned on right now. One hand strayed to her breast and started squeezing it. The other traveled down to her mons, pressing her fingers just above her slit. Pulling upwards slightly stretched the skin and exposed her clit even more, to the wonderment of Beccy, who couldn't resist leaning forward and flicking the tip of her tongue over Amaira's swollen bud. Amaira's hips jolted upward, as if she had had an electric shock, and she groaned out loud.

Beccy pointed her tongue and ran the tip up and down Amaira's clit, flicking at the little ring at the top of each stroke. Amaira was soon writhing on the couch in response to Beccy's ministrations. Suddenly, Amaira grabbed the back of Beccy's head and pushed her mouth hard into contact with her clit. "Oh, for the love of Allah, suck it... hard! Please!" she urged, as she drove her hips up to meet Beccy's probing tongue.

Beccy was only too willing to oblige. She sucked Amaira's engorged clit in between her lips, then rasped her tongue up and down it, faster and faster. Amaira was viciously twisting both of her nipples as her passion rose. Moments later, her whole body went rigid as she cried out and lifted herself clean off the couch, shaking and quivering as her orgasm crashed through her. She finally flopped back down on the couch, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her face and chest covered in beads of sweat.

Beccy rocked back on her heels and gazed at Amaira's beautiful, open pussy. Her pussy hole was twitching, a small pool of white, creamy liquid gathering at the bottom of her opening.

"I normally have to use some lube for this next procedure," said Beccy. "But it looks like you might not need it. At least you're nice and relaxed now," she added with a smile.

With that, she put two fingers together and slid them gently, but firmly, into Amaira's luxuriously wet pussy. She could feel her vaginal muscles twitching and contracting with the aftershocks of her orgasm. After thrusting them in and out a few times, she slipped them out before adding a third finger. She felt more resistance this time, but succeeded in driving them into the knuckle.

"That's it... relax and open up your pelvis for me... welcome the intrusion," Beccy urged, as she pumped her fingers in and out, twisting and squirming them inside Amaira's slick cunt. Before long, three fingers were joined by a fourth, and Amaira cried out as Beccy forced them through the tight ring of muscle around her opening.

After giving her a moment to get accustomed to the feeling, Beccy started rhythmically pumping them in and out, faster and faster, all the while, making sure to apply pressure to Amaira's G-spot, whilst grazing her swollen clit with the pad of her thumb. Amaira was groaning and humping her hips against Beccy's hand, which was now disappearing in as far as her thumb joint. Beccy briefly thought about tucking her thumb in and forcing her entire hand inside Amaira, but then decided that might be too much for a first session. Besides, she savored the prospect of another appointment with Amaira and her delicious pussy.