Sex Zoo 2.2: Entry 04

I was walking down a bright white arc of corridor absent-mindedly fingering the scar on the back of my head. It had to have occurred since I arrived here, but my hair had been much longer and my memories of my past life were fuzzy. I was trying to recall whether it could have happened during that vaguely remembered period that I continued to think of as my real life - that is, back on Earth.

The halls were quiet and empty. Despite the lack of day and night cues, both kapos and the aliens seemed to fall into a regular routine. However, perhaps owing to being on a day that was much longer than 24 Earth hours, I was slow getting used to the schedule kept by the old hands.

"Stop!" The stern, but feminine, voice came from behind me.

I did as I was told automatically and unconsciously - as one does when one hears the word "stop" out of the blue

I turned to see that it was the female Korean kapo. She was about 15 feet behind me and continued to approach in a beeline. When she got to me, she put her hands on the outside of my shoulders and lightly pushed me back until my head touched the wall. It was not an intimate move as her arms stayed straight, but it seemed oddly familiar given our lack of interaction. She then turned to face the same direction as I, also with her back against the wall.

"It's the implant?" She said.

"Pardon?"

"The scar, it's from where they inserted your implant."

"What implant?"

"The one the Grokts put in your head so that they are able to read your thoughts, to make your head feel like it is about to explode, or to make you pass out."

"Grokts?"

"The aliens... it's what we call the aliens. I was told it's short for 'great octopi', but that could be bullshit. They've been called that since before I got here."

"How do you know about these implants?"

"We once had a kapo who was a neurosurgeon. He told us that brainwaves were extraordinarily weak and full of noise. He said that, unless the physical laws existing inside this ship were different from those in our known universe, they would have to amplify and broadcast the signals to be able to read them- at least if they were not in physical contact with our skulls." She explained.

"Where is this surgeon now?"

"Dead."

"How?"

"He engaged in subversive activities."

"What kind of subversive activities?"

"He tried to cut his implant out using a hand mirror and a scalpel that he had requested under the ruse that he needed them for an elaborate mind-fuck he was planning to perpetrate against one of the f-toys. He was a bright man, and knew how to control his thoughts and play the Grokts. They trusted him more than most. I think they even believed they could learn something the experiments he devised." She explained.

"Taking out the implant killed him, or they killed him for taking it out."

"Neither, they moved him into the SAW-BL and one of the Grokts butt-raped him every day until he died of a perforated colon."

"What's an f-toy?" I returned to a question passed over.

"Short for fuck-toy, it's every human here who isn't one of us - the SAW-BL cattle and the freezer-pops in stasis pods."

"How long have you been here?"

"How the fuck would I know?"

"Don't you worry about them reading your thoughts right now?"

"There are quite a few places throughout the ship, just like the bulkhead behind our skulls right now, where there is electrical interference. We may get brain cancer from hanging out here, but it doesn't seem they can read our minds in these places. That doctor built a makeshift compass. We are apparently within a magnetic field, and the compass is mostly stable. If the Grokts were telling the truth it is presumably Jupiter's field, but it may be the ship's, the Earth's, or who knows? Anyway, the doctor went around the Zoo and wherever the needle began to spin wildly, he noted it on a map as a 'thought-safe zone'. He made us memorize the zones, and then destroyed the map. It exists only in the minds of a few of us now."

"Could you make me a copy?" I asked, desperately hoping the answer would be "yes."

I sometimes thought I might lose my mind from the shear act of trying to control my thoughts. It was both exhausting and frustrating. Furthermore, I had begun to dream more vividly as my subconscious mind adjusted to having my conscious mind reigned in. I worried about whether the aliens could read my dreams, and, if so, whether they were better at interpreting them than I. While often my dreams made no sense, escape seemed a popular underlying current of my subconscious mind.

"Not until you've shown you're not a risk to the rest of us. We can't have such evidence lying around."

"How do I show that?"

"Never mind about that now. We can't loiter here long. For the time being, I suggest you think of nothing but screwing f-toys. I've got to go. We've been at this too long." She said and started off in the direction we had both been initially traveling.

"I have many questions."

"Believe me, there'll be plenty of time for them, but not now. My name is Sung-mi. I've got to go."

"My name is..." I started to say, but she was already around the bend.

I had a quick thought about what I had been told. It was like taking a deep breath before swimming under water, or, for a smoker, taking that last drag before you go into a hospital for visiting hours. Then I moved off honoring Sung-mi's demand that I not loiter.

I went to the SAW-BL. There was a monitor there where I could access my taskings for the day (if you wanted to call it a "day.") I didn't have any experiments to participate in until much later, but I had a few routine duties to carry out. I had an insemination to conduct on of one of the station 3 women. Insemination made it sound so clinical, like I would be using a big syringe rather than my cock for the procedure. I had to collect two more "samples" of ejaculate from the same transgender female I had seen being "milked" during my first visit to the SAW-BL. I wondered what the interest was in that particular individual's semen. Who knew what kind of voodoo "science" was that was being practiced here. Then there were a couple individuals, one male and one female, to be tormented for reasons also unbeknownst to me. Sometimes this meant sticking a dildo in various orifices for an amount of time required by the tasking order, but sometimes we were allowed to just be creative.

I decided to start at the top of the list. I found the woman in station three. Her knees pointed towards the ceiling and her legs were spread wide. I stroked myself to a state of erection. The woman had brown skin and dark areolas, and her hefty breasts spread out under gravity's force. There was no evidence of tensing or squirming as I worked my cock into her with several progressively deepening thrusts. She was either completely resigned to her fate, or she was dead inside.

I continued to thrust for several minutes until my nuts tightened and I squeezed out a couple shots of cum into her. It was such a sterile transaction. On some level it was pleasurable, but I could see how it could get insanely boring as well. I patted the woman's leg a couple times as I extracted myself from her and cleaned off. The patting was a little bit like something one would do to a pet. I understood the term "f-toy" now. I was dehumanizing the subjects as did the others. I turned the thoughts away, lest I begin to get too contemplative and empathize.

As I was moving over to station four, the male Indian kapo came into station three. I hadn't seen him recently.

"I don't think we've formally met. Sorry I didn't introduce myself sooner - and that I was a little cold - but many kapos don't make it more than a few days. It sucks getting to know someone and the next thing you know they are an f-toy in one of your experiments. Anyway, I'm Amal." He said extending his hand.

"No problem, I understand. My name is..." Just as I was introducing myself, the surly Grokt I had seen on my first day wheeled into the room.

"We'd better get to work." Amal said and went to the subject next to the one I had just screwed. He sank his fingers, squeezed tightly together, into the woman's vagina until his entire hand had disappeared into the woman's sex. He proceeded to scramble his arm around inside her like he was playing triangle in a punk rock band.

It was hard to reconcile the friendly likable young man with the vicious pussy-punching maniac. He was the friendliest Kapo I had met with respect to his interactions with other Kapo, but there was also no one meaner to the f-toys. I could hear the sustained hum of the woman screaming inside the "helmet box." As the surly alien was busy at station one, I had the leisure to be transfixed by what Amal was doing. Amal yanked his arm out as if he were starting a chainsaw, and then, much to my surprise, he took his limp dick out and pee'd into the woman's now slack opening like it was a high-precision urinal.

I found myself turning away at that point. I had to pick up a beaker-like jar from one of the racks in a built-in set of cabinets near station five.

It was interesting that the shemale was completely hairless despite being held up in this place for who knows how long. I had no reason to believe there was a fleet of pube-trimming robots working the nightshift.

I was still a little uncomfortable with touching the junk of another person even if that other person had a set of nice perky tits. However, the anonymity of the SAW-BL helped. I set the beeker down for the time-being and seized the flaccid little mushroom and began to yank it to life. The way I saw it, it wasn't a date, so there was no need in engaging in niceties. The shemale's unit grew quickly to about five inches in length. To the degree that she could move, she seemed to push into to the hand job, and I realized that, like the girl who had given me a hummer on my first day, this individual seemed to be a willing participant for reasons as to which I could only speculate.

It was not a difficult job. I had to admit, I had my fair share of experience jerking off - until a few days prior it had entirely been with my own member - but the knowledge translated. It only took a few minutes for the ladyboy to dump her first load, and it was an impressive amount. I expected the small genitals to produce minimal juice, but apparently you can't judge the spunk by the pistol shooting it. I had almost missed getting the beaker over the dick, but managed to do so at the last possible instant. I took a sigh of relief as I realized how narrowly I had averted having to scoop up the milky sludge from wherever it landed. The second go took the better part of a half an hour to yield a much less impressive set of droplets.

I decided to get the male torment session out of the way first since I was still less comfortable with engaging in such contact and liked to get objectionable tasks out of the way. For both torment sessions I would be allowed to do as I pleased, but just needed to make each session last for 20 minutes. The sessions were not always 20 minutes. In fact, this was one of shorter of such sessions. The point was, no doubt, to not let the f-toy know how long the session might last. Today they might be pleasantly surprised, but the next time it might go for two-and-a-half hours and they would be praying for it to end swiftly like this one did.

The man was in station two, and, thus, was on all fours. I had gone to one of the cabinets and pulled some of the props I would use for this session. First, there was a sleek black cylinder capped with one hemispherical end. It was about nine inches long and 2-1/2 inches thick. Second, there was a set of three spring-loaded clamps that looked similar to items I had seen on Earth, but with the notable exception that one could press an indent on the inside of one of the levering handles and, with a momentary delay, a powerful shock would be delivered to the individual. Don't ask me how I discovered the clamps delivered a shock; that is an embarrassing story for another occasion. Needless to say, the orientation day had not included explanations of such minutiae. The final instrument of torment was a whip that looked reminiscent of a thorny sapling branch.

When I walked up behind the man, I slapped his nuts with the back of my hand to wake him up and get him ready for the session. He tensed up hard and his flabbier parts shook. It was a dark brown-skinned man with tight curly black hairs in his nether region. He was stereotypically well-endowed. I put some of the lube from the dispenser directly on the smooth black cylinder and rolled it around on the man's backside so that I did not need to touch the slimy slippery substance or the big dildo, which I'm sure was cleaned to a high degree of cleanliness, but still.

The man was apparently a relatively new SAW-BL subject and the dildo did not breach his backside easily. Instead, I had to pound on its flat end with the palm of my hand in the manner of getting stubborn ketchup out of a glass bottle. I was also clearly new. Had I not been, I would have known enough not to engage in the awkward plate-spinning operation that resulted from putting the dildo in before attaching the clamps. The man's ass kept trying to spit the foreign object out, so I would pinch the skin and put one clip on, then shove the shaft back in, then do the other clamp, and then resume shoving the dildo back in to him. All the while I had to be careful to avoid inadvertently setting a charge and shocking the shit out of myself. I worked the big dildo in and out and even side-to-side and up-and-down a little. I tried to emulate a little of Amal's viciousness without risking killing the guy like the Grokt had the neurosurgeon. When my arm became tired, I clicked both the shock-charges and watched the man convulse against his restraints.

Looking at the timer, I could see that I still had the better part of ten minutes to occupy. The little devil that resided on one of my shoulders came up with an idea that I couldn't believe I had devised because of both its deviousness and the nature of the activity required. The man was uncircumcised, and so I was able put one of the little shock-charge clamps over the foreskin at the opening of his penis. I then began to manually milk the cock. I was wondering if the plan would even work - if he would even be capable of climax in the allotted time and if the clamp would stay in place once he was turgid. It took a couple minutes for him to even grow to full rigidity. My concern that I wouldn't be able to complete the little experiment caused me to be more furious in my tugging. With only about 15 seconds to spare, I noted pre-cum and cum oozing down from between his foreskin and the clamp. I hit the shock button and stepped back. The shock was delivered up the man's urethra along the conduit of jizz all the way to his nuts. I thought the man would break out of his restraints, so severe was his reaction.

I kept the thorny sapling, as I had not used it, but threw the clamps and dildo in the sanitizer bin. Then I went and got some fresh clamps. While we were encouraged to be as savage as we could be, it was important to the aliens to minimize exposure to the spread of disease. They apparently surveilled and treated against venereal diseases, but were concerned about any number of other ailments that might pop up under unhygienic conditions.

The subject was on her back. As a wake up call, I pinched the woman's clit between my thumb and index finger and twisted sharply. I could hear her stifled howl through the "helmet-box". I then proceeded to whack her pussy repetitively with the little thorny sapling. She wriggled in her restraints, and she was so thin and flexible - I could see her hip bone under skin - I thought she might succeed in gaining some momentary freedom, but it was not to be. When her labia and clit were verging on purplish-red, I stopped. I was ready to go again, so I pulled out my cock and rubbed its smooth hardness against her. I entered her and began to thrust as hard as I could. It was therapeutic. When I was ready to climax, I pulled out and shot the spunk into the palm of one of my hands. I had been shown how to access the feeding tube portal, and so I drizzled my seed into the tube. The next time the woman took a hit on her feeding / hydration tube, she would first get a slug of my jizm in her mouth. I had a few minutes remaining so I put the shock-charge clips on one of the woman's nipples and one of her labia, and alternated delivering shocks for the remainder of the session.

The lack of sleep having caught up with me, I retired to my quarters for a nap. I had a couple experiments to participate in, but had sufficient time to have an extended nap before hand.

I was awake earlier than I needed to be to get to the first of the two experiments. On my way to the first experiment I went by the "think-zone" that Sung-mi had earlier showed me, pretending to be looking for something, and spent some time thinking about escape and masking my thoughts. Sung-mi was probably right. It was easier if one just took some pleasure in the job of fucking and tormenting the f-toys. Otherwise, it was very hard to not be thinking incriminating thoughts all the time. It was safer, but it seemed to me that it was potentially maddening as well. The last free thought I had before leaving the electromagnetic field was to psych myself up to be the bastard I needed to be.

When I got to the operations room of the chamber of my first experiment, I downloaded my instructions. This was an easy one for me. I just had to deliver instructions, oversee the events, and then upload a statement of my observations. I looked into the chamber, and the instructions were immediately clear.

There were two individuals in the room. There was a young man strapped securely onto a table on his back. He was thin and pale, and you could see most of his ribs. He had a messy mop of blond hair. There was also a woman, who was seated in a chair and also restrained, though not to nearly the same extent as the young man. The woman was probably twice the young man's age. She was a little on the heavy side, but had an impressive set of tits on her as a result of it. Like her son, she was pale and likely would have been blond as well if she were not a redhead by dye.

I entered the chamber and looked from the young man to the woman and back. Then I spoke. "Listen up, mom. Your son is about to start experiencing abdominal pain. One thing will bring an end to it, and that is to have an orgasm. If he nuts within the first eight minutes, his body will recover just fine. After that, his body will likely experience permanent damage. After twenty minutes there's a high probability he'll be dead, and after 30 minutes death is a virtual certainty."

"Don't do this. Let us go. Leave him out of this. I'll ... I'll do..." The cherubic-faced momma's teary-eyed and crackling-voiced imploration made it a challenge to continue being a jackass, but I was not all together without skills in this regard.

Just then the woman's restraints popped open.

"Oooooh!" The operator had apparently started microwaving the poor guy, or whatever they were doing to him. Mom went to her son, and tried to pull away his restraints, but they were as strong as steal.

"A piece of advice, don't waste a bunch of time begging me for mercy, it's only going to increase the likelihood your kid's internal organs will be fried." I said.

"What do you want from us?" Mom said.

"I don't want anything. I'm just telling you, if you don't get your little boy off, he's going to die." I said, and my statement was punctuated by a blood-curdling scream from the young man.

"How... do I do it?"

"Any way you want. He's the evidence that you know how to have sex. He wasn't a test-tube baby, was he?"