Keywords: Adult, Scifi, Chemical
Species: Wolf
Second Job


Second Job
By Divigon

Not the greatest of stories, sort of a series of vague ideas that somehow 
coalesced into this form.  Might look at it again in a while.



The wolf dropped his bag on the floor as he entered the small apartment.  It 
had been one of those days and he was quite glad to be home.  He pulled off his 
shirt, then undid his belt, slipping his jeans and underwear from his legs.  He 
looked down, his enhanced sheath and swollen balls swung as they were freed.  
He reached down to caress their fur, it did feel much better to have them 
unrestrained.

The wolf looked at the clock, running a paw to the back of his neck and feeling 
the neural implant that ruled his life.  

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, an easy way to make money.  
After all, he was young and did not think things through, he saw it as an easy 
second job.  50ccs did not seem like a lot in a week, so he was eager to sign 
up, he just did not read the fine print of the contract or do the maths 
particularly well.

Fifty cubic centimetres worked out to be ten healthy ejaculations a week.  
Sure, his body could copy with it for the first week, but already by the second 
week he was beginning to fall behind, each orgasm producing less volume and his 
testicles began to ache, by the third week he was physically spent.  When he 
dropped off his sample he told the nurse he was going to drop out of the 
program.  She had nodded made a note on his form and picked up the phone.

On the way out of the building he was intercepted by a doctor in a while coat 
and someone in a suit who identified themselves as the company lawyer.  They 
started talking about clauses, how he'd be liable for lost production, but not 
to worry because they had something that could help.

With all the veiled threats it did not take him long to agree and he was lead 
into a small surgical suite.  He can remember the mask being placed over his 
head, but that was about it.  The next thing was slowly coming around, back in 
his own room.  

There was additional equipment discretely placed in the corner, he looked over 
it.  It was alien to him, but he knew all about it, how to clean it, how to 
maintain it and how to use it.  He moved to the mirror and studied his 
reflection.  The first thing he noticed was his swollen balls.  They were 
stretching his sac almost uncomfortably, but somewhere in the back of his mind 
he knew that it was only temporarily.

There was a soft beep from the device in the corner and he groaned.  It was 
like something turned on in the back of his mind and his shaft literally sprang 
to attention.  He was so hard it hurt.  He almost lunged at the machine, 
grabbing the large silver tube and thrusting his hips into it.

The soft silicon insides of the tube began to squeeze his shaft as the suction 
held it tight.  He leant in against the wall, claws rubbing against the 
concrete, it was only a matter of moments before he climxed, for the first time 
in his life howling in pleasure.  The suction continued for a few more minutes 
then faded as he panted.

Automatically he slid the mechanical sheath from his shaft and began to clean 
it, his hands working on their own as he unscrewed parts of the machine he had 
never seen before.  It only took a few moments before he somehow knew he was 
done.  He read the top of the machine.  Eight point seven cubic centimetres.  
Impressive, and he knew he was not at full production yet.

It took him a few days before his mind could fully recognise what had happened.  
A neural implant at the base of his skull gave him the knowledge he needed, 
even when he did not know about it.  It also overrode sensations to his brain 
which was lucky because two implants were pumping his body full of hormones.  
The only time he had full control was when the machine sounded, indicating it 
was time for him to donate.

When he heard that sound he had to get to the machine, feel the cool embrace of 
it around his shaft, his body unable to disobey until the device released him.

He thought this all over as he rubbed the implant.  He knew the device would be 
making its noise any time soon, it varied each day, but evening seemed to be a 
safe bet.  By eight o'clock he was getting impatient.  It should have sounded 
by now.  He sat naked in front of the television, idly massaging his huge sac.

It felt good, but he knew he was unable to take pleasure from his stroking.  He 
had tried it before, but the implant blocked everything.  He looked across at 
the machine and found his mind pondering.  He stood and looked, for the first 
time being aware of the second tube connected to it.  His shuddered as he found 
his body beginning to work on auto once again.

He carefully rolled the device over towards his bed, unwinding both the chromed 
tubes and placing them on the sheet.  The larger tube he placed against the 
opening to his sheath, the silicon lips gripping his opening and the vacuum 
beginning to forcibly pull his shaft from within.  The second, smaller tube he 
placed under his tail, his eyes opening in both wonder and surprise as 
something extended from within, effortlessly sliding inside.  He gave a moan as 
he felt his prostate being squeezed, already fluid beginning to leak from his 
shaft.  

He wanted to protest, to pull it all from him, but his hands refused to move 
and just then the machine sounded, his body slamming back into the sheets as he 
thrust upwards against the tube.  He could feel the silicon sleave massaging 
over his shaft, the thick ring squeezing at his knot as his balls began to 
lift.  Just before he felt himself peak, something seemed to tingle inside him.  
He moaned, feeling alien sensations rip through his body, thick seed spurting 
from his shaft as his desire to orgasm continued.  The sensations slowly faded 
and he gasped, feeling the sheath resuming its massage, his body crying out for 
orgasm although he seemed incapable of providing one.

He was oblivious to the darkening night, his body twisting and turning on the 
bed.  He lost count of the number of times his body was teased to the point of 
orgasm, then just before he was able to peak there was that strange tingle and 
his shaft seemed to erupt on its own.  His mind faded after a while, drifting 
into unconsciousness, fevered lust laden dreams flickering across his mind 
while the implant subtly worked to rewire his brain...

When he woke it was daylight, his body was still hooked to the machine.  He 
moaned and reached down; instead of withdrawing tubes from himself his fingers 
pressed little buttons near the base of each tube.  He looked down in 
surprised, his shaft now encased in a chromed tube.  He could feel the silicon 
embrace still cradled around his shaft.  As he moved he felt the second 
intruder remaining under his tail, the touch of it strangely reassuring.

He looked across at the collection device.  An orange light was visible on the 
top and automatically he opened the side panel and drew out the full back.  It 
was filled to the brim with his warm milky seed.  He blinked when he saw the 
quantity, he had never managed to even quarter fill a bag before.  He slipped 
in a replacement, stretching as the machine hummed.  He fetched an energy 
drink, his shaft bobbing around within the metal casing and he checked the 
time.  A few more minutes before milking was resumed.  He gave a shrug, 
stretching a few times.  It was a strange job, but at least it paid the 
bills...