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After the tragedy twenty years ago at the Willow Green Fertility Center, it became a matter of protocol for all D.I.C.K. breeding facilities to observe yearly emergency drills.

This was Rupert's first such drill, having been a resident at the prestigious Angelwood Breeding Clinic for just under eight months. It was announced that morning over the intercom, so that when the klaxons started blaring and the straps holding him to the metal framework of his breeding station came automatically loose, his panic only lasted a few seconds. But even though he knew there was no real danger, his heart still raced with adrenaline.

He had no idea what to expect. He knew only to wait in his room for someone to come collect him, and the rest would be explained later.

It was thankfully only seconds before the door to his private mating room was propped open from the hallway, and a white-coated member of staff briskly escorted him outside. They joined the stream of other residents and staff as they filtered out through the emergency exits, orderly and calm, but with an unmistakable excitement buzzing through them. Almost everyone was treating it as an amusing diversion, and their smiles and laughter put Rupert's mind at ease.

His ears were just getting used to the deafening noise of the alarms by the time he made it outside, and the sound fell away, yielding to fresh open air. He followed the crowd as everyone gathered on a grassy patch of ground some distance from the building. They could hear each other much easier here, and staff herded their residents into groups based on which ward of the facility they had come from.

Rupert's group was the smallest, consisting of only three males, including himself. It was the first time he had seen just how exclusive his fertility bracket was. By contrast, the lowest bracket--though still way above average of the population--was a group of no less than thirty.

It was only as he stood there, watching staff hurry around with their checklists and calling out instructions, that he remembered he and the others were still naked, and many of them had been interrupted mid-session. Fortunately, he had been enjoying some downtime between customers, so he wasn't feeling frustrated. But the medication they all took on a daily basis still meant he was fully erect, all fifteen-plus inches of his cock jutting up thick and proud before him.

Glancing around, he saw that he wasn't the only one; all the other males were in a similar state of permanent arousal, and he wondered what, if anything, the staff would do about it if the drill went on too long.

The mood amongst the other Breeders was mixed. Some of them looked embarrassed, trying to cover themselves, while others appeared amused. Two of them had even paired off at the edge of the group and were mock-fencing each other with their penises, their breathless laughter ringing out over the hum of chatter from the rest of the group.

"Alright, settle down, everyone," a staff member called, her clipboard raised in the air. Rupert recognized her as Denise, the facility's Overseer. She was a kind woman, an exceptionally curvy rabbit with a habit of storing notes and pens inside the bottomless crevice of her cleavage. She was in charge of everything here, and Rupert didn't see her too often, but he knew she cared deeply about the wellbeing of the residents in her care. If there was ever a problem or complaint, she often took care of it personally.

The groups quietened down to listen as she spoke. "Today's drill will be different to previous years," she began. "We're implementing new procedures that include a full inspection of the facility, which can take multiple days to complete. Therefore, all residents are being temporarily moved into safehouses, where they will remain under staff supervision until such a time as they can return to their wards."

A murmur rose in the crowd, faces plastered with curiosity and concern. One male, a dapple-grey pony belonging to one of the lesser fertility brackets, lifted one hand from where it had been cradling his dusky-skinned phallus, and sought the Overseer's attention. "What about our schedules? Will we still get visitors at the safe house?"

It was a good question; if they were to be away for an extended period, what would happen to the women who'd paid and been waiting for their appointments, sometimes years in advance? Many were on strict timetables, needing to be bred on a precise day and time according to their ovulation cycles. To be delayed even a matter of hours could cost many of them the pregnancies they had been waiting so patiently to achieve.

"Due to safety regulations, there will be no external visitations." Denise waited for the chorus of disgruntled voices to settle again before continuing. "You will all be switched over to a milking schedule during your time away. Collections will take place once in the mornings and once in the evenings, and visitors will receive your donations at a separate building."

Many of them looked disappointed at the news, though a few were clearly excited at the prospect of twice-daily milking sessions.

Rupert shared in the disappointment. He enjoyed the milking machine well enough, but there was no substitute in his mind for the real thing. Being milked often put him in a hazy, dreamlike mindset; the constant stimulation robbed his head of any thoughts beyond the immediate pressure of the suction tube, and of the lazy orgasms, one rolling seamlessly into the next, without beginning or end. It was enjoyable, of course. Some males even grew addicted to it. But there was no thrill to being milked, none of the ebb and flow of intensity and rhythm that made his job so fulfilling.

To Rupert, being a Breeder was about so much more than simply cumming all day. He preferred real, in-person matings. Nothing else compared to the feel of living flesh gripping tight around his cock, of burying himself inside the wet heat of another living person, feeling their muscles bunch and contract and quiver around him. The intimacy of it, the press of their bodies, the musky smell of female hormones flooding his nose--those were things the cold, mechanical pump could never reproduce, even with its self-lubricating systems and intelligent pressure adjustments.

More than anything, he loved squirting his cum deep inside a fertile womb, not simply to have his semen collected in a tube like some kind of sterile science experiment, and knowing he was about to bring new life into the world. He felt disappointed that, for the next few days at least, he would be denied his preference, but if nothing else, it would be a change of scenery. Perhaps he would still enjoy himself, in other ways.

But for now, he was starting to get cold. His erection sagged in the chilly air, despite the medications still coursing through his blood. Thankfully, a convoy of large busses soon arrived and began parking up alongside the gathering area, and each group of Breeders was directed to board a different vehicle.

Rupert's group took the last one, followed inside by the least contingent of staff: just three. He was well acquainted with each of them, and as he took a seat towards the front of the bus, each of the women in turn gave him a heated smile as they passed down the aisle.

Morgan, the high-spirited mouse; Betty, the domineering snake; and their team lead, Tanya, the mature and strong-willed lioness. They all wore their customary lab coats and sleek heels, and looked stunning despite the drab environment of the bus. The trio had been a fixture in his life ever since they were first assigned to test his fertility status. That felt like a lifetime ago. Now he was a resident in their ward, which gave him the pleasure of seeing them frequently.

It was especially gratifying in those first few months of his residency, after he had successfully impregnated all three of them in a single afternoon; watching their bellies expand and their breasts swell with milk had filled him with giddy feelings of satisfaction and pride.

Tanya and Morgan had given birth a little over a month ago, to six cubs and nine pups, respectively. And three months prior to that, Betty had laid a record-breaking clutch of sixteen eggs, twelve of which successfully hatched--an unprecedented number for a single pregnancy. Understandably, they had all taken some time off work in the weeks immediately following the arrival of their newborns. But Betty, in particular, had been absent far longer than her peers. In fact, she had only resumed her regular work schedule just a few days ago, having finally found suitable arrangements for the care of her bountiful brood.

The condition of all three of them now was as they had been before their pregnancies, and Rupert marvelled at how completely their figures had returned to normal. They were back to their perfect hourglass shapes, all voluminous boobs and ass sandwiching their tight, muscular stomachs. They looked the picture of health. He idly wondered if any of them were ready to be mated again, but before he could think too much on it, the engine of the bus rumbled to life and the convoy began its journey out of the city, toward the secret location of the safehouse.

---

It was only after they had arrived and begun piling out of the bus that Rupert realised the convoy had split up, each presumably arriving at a different destination. They were alone here: just five males, three staff, and the driver, who simply sat in her seat and watched them disembark with a slightly bored expression.

It was late afternoon. By now, the air had warmed a little, but it had done nothing to melt away the coating of snow that blanketed the area. Rupert's feet tingled, his pads numbing with cold as he stepped out onto the icy ground. They looked to be in the middle of a forest: the road leading to the lodge had been mostly empty, save for a single, nondescript shack half a mile back, and now they stood at the entryway of a lone wooden lodge, its steep roof obscured beneath a heavy load of brilliant white snow.

Patches of dark green foliage surrounded the clearing, and the unspoilt scent of pine rose high in the air. Rupert couldn't resist the urge to draw a deep, indulgent breath, the air here so different from the recycled, slightly stuffy conditioned air of the breeding facility that he had grown so accustomed to.

Somewhere distant, he could hear the steady flow of a stream or brook. But his attention was brought back to the lodge, which the doctors were urging them to enter, clearly concerned about their nakedness in the chilly breeze.

"There are clothes for you all inside," said Morgan, her eyes bright and attentive as ever. They lingered on Rupert as he passed her in the doorway, a subtle flash of memories being re-lived within them that made Rupert's heart skip a beat.

It occurred to him then that they would be spending the next two or three days here, trapped in close quarters. What would they do all day?

He could think of some things he would like to do, certainly. It was his only purpose in life now, after all; he didn't need or want anything else. But it would be flaunting the rules to engage in any activity the State would consider wasteful of his potent semen. And though the Overseer was an understanding woman, she did not abide by anyone who disregarded proper procedures.

To suddenly find himself with a surplus of hours to do things other than fuck or sleep, his mind drew a blank.

The interior of the lodge was toasty warm, all dark varnished wood and soft orange lights hung from a low ceiling. The source of the heat was immediately apparent: a large log fire crackled and glowed at the far end of the spacious common room, and Rupert and the other males gravitated toward it like moths to a flame, rubbing their hands and arms to warm themselves up.

Tanya appeared from an adjoining room with arms full of clothes for them.

As they got dressed--simple t-shirts and cotton pants, thin, but adequate in the well-warmed space--Rupert took in the lodge's decor. There were sofa chairs and soft cushions in shades of charcoal and burgundy arranged around the fireplace, and a coffee table for drinks. The eastern wall was one long, padded seat that stretched beneath a series of windows for viewing the beautiful scenery outside. Dark wooden beams stretched across the high ceiling like the limbs of trees, meeting at the corners as rough-hewn pillars that drove into the floor, bearing the weight of the upper floor.

A single staircase led upstairs, where presumably they would be sleeping later that night. But once everyone had gotten dressed, the three staff ushered them into the adjoining room, which was laid out far differently to what Rupert was expecting.

It was a far more familiar sight: a row of breeding frames dominated the space, with padded headrests and leather straps for arms and legs. The apparatus was identical to that inside the breeding facility itself. The only incongruence was that of the room itself, with its shiny wood floors and soft rugs, a space that clearly was not designed with this sort of activity in mind.

"Due to the circumstances, I'm afraid we're not able to get you into private rooms for your milking sessions," Tanya explained. "Any complaints?"

The three males shared questioning looks and shrugs between them. Nobody seemed too bothered by it, although one of them, a zebra named Zack, raised a hand. "That's fine, but what about our beds? We're not sharing those too, are we?"

Tanya's smile was mollifying. "You will have your own beds, of course."

The group visibly relaxed, including Rupert. While he didn't overly mind being milked semi-publically--he wouldn't be alone in the experience, after all, and he was well used to staff hovering around, watching him even as he shuddered in orgasm--he still preferred his privacy when he slept, especially when the alternative was sharing a bed with another male.

"Well, then. If you'd all like to take a spot."

She gestured to the frames, and Rupert and the others each climbed onto them, their feet resting in soft stirrups and their weight supported by the slight backward tilt of the frames. The other two doctors had joined Tanya in the room and were all now fastening the straps around each male's arms and legs, secure but not so tight as to be uncomfortable.

It was Morgan who tended to Rupert, her eyes never leaving his face as she reached down to pick up the suction tube that would be his steady companion for the next few hours. She squeezed a bottle of lubrication into the tube, making sure it was well-coated, before taking hold of his erect cock and guiding the rubber mouth of the tube over its smooth head.

"I know you're not a huge fan of this," she said, smirking up at him through her eyelashes, "but don't worry. You'll be back to thrusting up into a warm body very soon."

Rupert's breath hitched as the clear transparent tube squeezed down over his length, watching his flesh flatten and conform to the rigid shape. He couldn't quite be sure if the emphasis in her words was real, or something he imagined, but he didn't have time to contemplate it further before Morgan flicked the switch on the side of his frame and the pump began its mechanical, merciless work.

His head fell back against the padded material as the world narrowed to the rhythmic suction and vibration. He surrendered himself as he felt the stirring in his heavy balls of the orgasm the machine would soon draw out of him--the first of the evening's many.

---

The world beyond the windows was dark by the time the milking session came to a close. The crackle of the hearth was still audible from the other room, casting flickering gold hues along the wall as the doctors returned to undo their straps and set the males free for the evening. Tanya attended to Rupert this time, her eyes lingering on the sight of his still-hard cock as she pulled the suction tube from it, now stained opaque from the inside.

"Ever the over-achiever, aren't you?" she remarked. "I'll have to see if we can't find a larger receptacle for next time."

Rupert felt himself blush. He didn't know what to say to that. He did seem to produce more per session than other males, even amongst the current group.

"It's dinner time," she said, her gaze fixed on his cock, as if distracted by it. "We'll all be eating around the same table, since there's not much room. I bet you've missed the taste of home-cooked meals, hmm?"

There was heat in her eyes, and in the tone of her voice, Rupert noted; a definite hunger that had nothing to do with the talk of hot food. It sent a thrill through him, despite the countless times he had climaxed in the past several hours. The glistening, cum-smeared head of his cock twitched and expelled another blob of milky fluid, and for an intense moment, he actually thought Tanya was about to bend down and suck it off of him.

Instead, her expression smoothed, and she retrieved a wet cloth from a trolley of supplies. She was the picture of professionalism as she wiped him clean, pointedly ignoring the way he grimaced and bit his lip every time a fresh wave of arousal trembled through him at her soft administrations.

Though, she did seem to draw it out longer than strictly necessary.

Fuck, he thought. How was he supposed to get through dinner like this? He was still unbearably horny, and sitting close to his three favourite doctors wasn't going to help matters. He glanced down at Tanya's face and had a sudden image in his mind of her licking some creamy substance off the end of a spoon, her tongue curling to scoop it into her mouth, a coy smile spreading across her glistening lips.

"Not sure I'm all that hungry," he admitted, squeezing his eyes shut to try to clear his mind. "It'll be... hard to focus on the food."

When he opened his eyes again, she was watching him with a knowing look on her face. "Oh, don't worry about that. In a moment, you'll all be given something to help you calm down. It should last through the night, so you'll be able to sleep without trouble, as well."

Rupert felt relieved, and was more than a little impressed by their forethought. The routine for the next few days may be unusual, the methods perhaps a little bit crude, but it seemed their every need would be taken care of.

And yes, he had to admit, he did miss real food. Not that he could complain; the nutrient slurry fed to him through the feeding tube that would usually be strapped to his muzzle throughout the day was tasty and filling in its own right. But he missed the simple act of chewing on his food. He hadn't realised how much he missed it until that very moment.

There were many things he took for granted about life during his pre-pubescent years. Freedoms and experiences he no longer considered necessary. But he still pined for them, sometimes. It was nostalgia, nothing more. His life now was better than he'd ever dreamed it could be, especially when he'd feared he might be a 'Low', a male so near infertility as to be useless to society. That life felt so distant now. So unimportant. He wouldn't change anything to regain what he'd lost.

But he'd still indulge in a cooked meal, since it was being offered.

The table had already been set. The males sat at one side, the doctors opposite them. It was Betty who'd prepared the meals, and if the rich smells wafting from the kitchen area were anything to go by, she was a dab hand at cooking. Rupert's mouth watered as she brought out their plates, piled high with crispy, golden potatoes, carrots, broccoli, and succulent slices of meat, all drizzled in a deep, thick gravy.

Rupert bent over the steaming plate and took in the delicious smell.

"Wow." His stomach clenched hard with impatience. "This looks amazing."

Everyone else at the table heartily agreed.

Betty beamed with pride at the compliment, her reptilian eyes pinching in the corners. "I may be a scientist, but I come from a long line of cooks," she explained, proudly. "So you'd better clear those plates, or I'm going to be very disappointed."

Before they could get stuck in, Tanya gestured to their glasses, which were only a quarter full of a cloudy-looking liquid. "You should drink first," she said. "It's an antaphrodisiac solution that will settle your libidos until the morning."

"And after, you can have a proper drink," Betty chimed in. "Water or juice only. Sorry, no alcohol."

"It would interfere with the medication," Morgan added.

The males to the left and right of Rupert mumbled their complaints, but he was happy enough with water, especially after he downed the cloudy liquid, which tasted powdery and horribly bitter at the back of his throat. He was glad to be getting a flavoursome meal to chase away the taste of it, and by the eagerness in which his counterparts dug into their food, he wasn't alone in that sentiment.

Talk was sparse as they ate, limited mainly to compliments about the food and remarks on how nice the lodge was. Rupert ate until he was stuffed, somehow managing not to choke on his food despite the eagerness with which he wolfed it down. It was only as he was sitting back in his chair, rubbing his bulging stomach, that he realised he was still incredibly horny.

The meal was so good that it had completely distracted him from his discomfort. He glanced aside at the other males, wondering if they were faring any better, but it was hard to tell. He couldn't sneak a peek beneath the table without it being obvious what he was looking for. Their faces looked relaxed and sated, but that wasn't much to go by.

Just then, he felt something that almost made him jump out of his seat: Beneath the table, somebody's foot brushed his shin, and then nudged his legs apart and began climbing higher. Soon it was pressing in between his thighs, and as it rubbed itself meaningfully against the bulge in his pants, Rupert's eyes shot up to the doctor sitting directly across from him.

But Morgan wasn't paying him any attention. In fact, she was deep in conversation with Betty about the merits of growing their own vegetables.

Who, then, had their foot planted so firmly against Rupert's thoroughly erect cock?

And had they known he was still hard? They must have, otherwise what would have been the point? Was his arousal written so plain on his face? He wasn't getting any strange looks from the others. Only the occasional polite glance to keep him included in the conversation.

The foot left him after a few minutes, and Betty rose from the table moments later to begin clearing their plates. Had it been her? It was quite a distance to reach him with her foot, if so. She could have potentially used her tail, however, and Rupert cursed inwardly for not paying closer attention to the shape of the thing as it had massaged his groin.

Too embarrassed to be the first to get up, Rupert lingered at the table long enough to see the other two males retire upstairs to their rooms, and was dismayed to notice both their pants were slack, and only mildly burdened by the presence of their flaccid members. Tanya and Morgan followed them up shortly thereafter. Only Betty remained, a look of concern creeping into her expression as she watched him hesitate.

"Something the matter?" she asked, coming around the table to press a hand to his cheek. "You look flushed. Was it the food?"

"No, not the food," he admitted. "The food was amazing. But, uh... I think the medication didn't work."

"Oh?"

With a sigh, he pushed back his chair and stood, revealing the state of himself he'd been hiding under the cover of the table. Betty's eyes widened in surprise, then darkened almost instantly. She licked her lips absently, but the brief sight of her forked tongue as it glided around her mouth was enough to make his pulse quicken.

"I see. Well, that can happen. You must have a natural resistance to its effects."

"Lucky me," he murmured. "Is there anything you can do?"

"Oh, I could think of a few things," she said, taking a step closer. There was no mistaking the look in her eyes now.

Rupert shook his head, flustered at his poor choice of words. "I mean... Is there something else I can take? Or... something I can do...?"

She chuckled softly, letting her fingers trail down his chest, and Rupert couldn't hold back a longing gasp at her touch. But at the sound, Betty hesitated. Her hand retreated, her eyes turning sympathetic. "You'll just have to try sleeping it off," she said with a sigh. "It may still take effect eventually. Perhaps it's just working slower."

He certainly hoped so. Far from feeling any better from the drink, he could swear his cock felt even stiffer and more insistent than before. It was as if all the time they'd milked him earlier was just a tease, and he hadn't cum at all, but his balls felt full and heavy, which shouldn't have been possible.

His pants were stretched to their limit over his straining erection. He couldn't imagine sleeping like this. He could only hope it was as Betty said, and the medication would take effect soon, but he had a horrible suspicion it wouldn't.

The upper floor of the lodge was divided into several spacious bedrooms. The two other males and doctors had already retired to bed, and Betty quietly wished Rupert goodnight in the hallway before disappearing into her own room. Rupert's room was at the end of the hall. It had a Queen-sized bed and a flat-screen TV in the corner, with one large, south-facing window that overlooked the forest, though it was pitch-black outside, and all he could see was a smattering of stars twinkling distantly in the sky.

With a sigh, he shut the door behind him, but didn't bother undressing for bed. It would be difficult enough to stop from touching himself; being naked would invite accidental brushes of skin that would inevitably lead to hours of frenzied masturbation. Even with the barrier of his clothes, he was afraid that might still happen. His swollen member was beginning to ache, and the weight of it against his belly as he lay on his back in the dark was a constant, aggravating reminder of his growing need for release.

He couldn't recall falling asleep, but he must have. His sleep was brief and fitful, tormented by explicit fantasies being driven by the ever-increasing pressures in his groin. So how the intruder managed to enter his room completely without his notice, he had no idea--he only became aware of their presence when he felt the mattress dip under their weight, and a slender finger pressed to his lips as he shot upright in alarm.

"Shhh," the voice whispered, that finger pressing his head back down against the pillow. Rupert complied, though his body was still tense, his heart pounding in the wake of the erotic dreams and his sudden startlement.

"Who...?" he began, but he was shushed again, and then somebody's mouth--female, soft lips, an insistent tongue--was hungrily kissing away his protests.

Rupert's tension melted away almost immediately, and he kissed her back, too drunk on arousal to question what was happening. She tasted faintly of their evening meal, of rich gravy and herbs, and her clean fur smelled citrusy with what he guessed was some expensive brand of conditioner. As the blanket was pulled away from him, Rupert felt an irresistible urge to grab onto her hips and grind up against her, seeking friction and heat. But before he could touch her, his hands were yanked up above his head and pinned there against the pillow.

"No touching," came the whispered demand. And though he couldn't see her, and she surely couldn't see him, he nodded his assent.

Her hands trusted to let go of him, and he felt them tugging his cotton pants down around his thighs, freeing his aching cock from its confines. It was hard as marble by now, and pulsing so hard with blood that it moved of its own accord, every beat of his racing heart making it tap gently against his bare stomach.

What he felt next was the most curious thing: she pressed her palm against his cock, but between them was a thin layer of cool, thin material, incredibly soft to the touch. She rubbed it slowly over him, and the glide of it was luxuriously smooth, like silk--yes, exactly like that. It had to be silk. It was too soft to provide much friction, but the unusual texture was thrilling in its own way, and she swathed it over his swollen balls and all the way up to his shiny glans.

It had an almost hypnotic effect. Rupert was just getting into it, but then it was taken away. The intruder lifted his purple cock up with both hands, and he felt the body above him shift its weight. Then all at once, he was sinking deep into the hot, wet grip of her cunt, the sudden intensity of the stimulation startling a cry of pleasure from him.

Her mouth returned to Rupert's, devouring the helpless sounds he made as she rolled her hips over him. The pressure was incredible; his hyper-sized cock stretched her wide open, her muscles tight around him. Her body struggled to accommodate his sheer size, but she was making it happen. He wanted desperately to touch her, to find out if there would be scales or fur, what kind of tail he might find, if only he could reach around and dig his fingers into the flesh of her plump, round asscheeks, but she had told him not to touch, and so he didn't dare do anything that might break the spell of whatever was happening.

But, God, if she didn't start moving soon...

"Please," he gasped against her lips, groaning again as she took the opportunity to suck his cornered tongue back into her mouth.

She did start to move, then. Slowly, at first, but soon picking up enough speed for the tension to build. Rupert's fists scrabbled, then gripped the sheets. The friction, the heat, the way the head of his cock bumped up against her cervix every time her thighs slapped against his--all of it was so much better than being milked. Through the haze of his pleasure, Rupert struggled to remember if this body felt anything like one of his three doctors, but he'd mated them so long ago, he couldn't possibly tell.

Was it Betty? She was the last of them still awake, and she'd made an obvious pass at him downstairs. But if she'd wanted to fuck him tonight, why had she retreated, sent him to bed alone? Whoever it was, they were playing a game with him, and maybe the reason for their secrecy was that they didn't want their colleagues knowing they had broken the rules.

If that was the case, he wasn't about to blow their cover. He'd blow something else, though, and pretty soon, if she kept going the way she was.

There was something about this whole thing that had Rupert enjoying himself far, far too much. Usually, his hands and legs would be bound to the breeding frame, so he couldn't touch his clients anyway. But this time, it was only a command to follow--he had to resist of his own accord, something that was becoming increasingly difficult as pressure built in the base of his cock and his balls cemented themselves against his shaft. Despite his efforts, he couldn't keep quiet anymore. Whether it was the secrecy, or the location, he couldn't tell, but as the mysterious woman drove herself onto his cock in the dark, Rupert couldn't help his breathy moans and tight gasps echoing louder and louder into the quiet room.

The woman tried to kiss the sounds away, to mixed success. He couldn't help her anymore; he was losing control, barrelling towards orgasm. Her angle shifted, perhaps more for her own sake than his, but the movement startled a pleasured cry out of him that rang out far too loud. Without breaking her rhythm, the woman reached for something behind her then, and suddenly her fingers were pressing a wadded ball of silk into his open mouth, effectively gagging him.

His jaw clenched in surprise, but it was forced to remain open. His nose flooded with an intense, female scent, just as the material was forced against his tongue, and he tasted her there, on the warm silk.

His mind skidded to a halt. Oh, fuck... Those were her panties. She'd just stuffed her panties in his mouth to keep him quiet.

His senses flooded with the potent scent of her sex, driving him wild with the instinct to breed her. He could taste his own salt on them, too, and as he mindlessly sucked the musky flavours from the cloth, he couldn't keep his hands to himself anymore. Even if they'd been tied down, he would have ripped them free.

He grabbed her hips with bruising force--Fur, she has fur, soft and short and warm--and his cock started to twitch, then pulse hard in staggering waves.

Heat rushed through his cock and burst from the tip like an erupting volcano, every spurt swallowed hungrily into the gripping depths of the body above him. She was grinding against him, her movements erratic, until she, too, came to a stuttering, trembling halt, her voice escaping her on a bitten-back cry. Rupert was far too lost in the wash of pleasure to really hear it, though, and his orgasm only seemed to grow more intense over the next thirty seconds, each new wave having an additive effect over the last, after which it finally peaked for a full nerve-tingling, heart-hammering minute of unadulterated bliss.

Then finally his muscles began to unlock, and he sank, shivering with aftershocks, back into the sweat-damp mattress, the silk in his mouth now soaked with his saliva.

It was only when she picked his hands off her thighs that he realised he'd been stroking her fur absently. She lifted herself off him without a word, and gently pried the sopping wet panties from his mouth a moment later. He worked his stiff jaw for a minute, noting with contentment how he could still taste her in his mouth--and probably would all night, at least until he brushed his teeth in the morning.

She rose from his bed, but as she headed for the door, Rupert couldn't resist the question: "Who are you?"

The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment. Then, with a whisper of air, the wet bundle of silk landed back on his chest.

And then she was gone.

---

The next morning, Betty prepared them all breakfast. Everyone was sitting around the table, and spirits were high among the group.

"Word from the higher-ups suggests we might be here at least another day, maybe two," Tanya explained, one hand holding her fork and the other scrolling through her phone on the table. "You'll have free time to entertain yourselves in between the morning and evening milkings, but you're to stay inside the lodge for the duration. No wandering through the forest in the snow. You're very valuable to us, after all, and we're not to let you out of our sight."

Rupert was fine with that. The scenery out there was beautiful, dazzling in sheets of white and flecks of falling snow, but he preferred to stay dry and toasty warm by the lodge's fire.

As they ate, he tried to sneak glances at the three doctors. Or rather, two of them: Tanya and Morgan. Both were acting normally, it seemed, busy eating and chatting. Neither paying him much attention, which in itself seemed a little suspicious. But it had definitely been one of them who visited him last night, whose panties he currently had stuffed in his pants pocket, to be taken out and sniffed in moments where nobody was watching him.

He wondered: Does that mean one of them isn't wearing any, right now?

In hindsight, it was obvious that one of them had switched his medication out for something benign last night. Purposefully made sure he stayed hard for her, so she could sneak in and have her way in the night. The other two males brought no complaints to the breakfast table, which could mean he was the only one it had happened to... but there was no way to know for sure.

But he felt a slight thrill, imagining he'd been specially selected for their secret, horny intentions. Unfortunately, that brought him no closer to figuring out which of them had done it.

He knew one thing: Morgan's fur was softer than Tanya's. But was that true across her entire body, or was it softer in some places than others? He tried to recall how her thighs had felt last night, but the memory only sent a lick of arousal through his belly, made his cock twitch and begin to fatten again in his pants.

Damn it. He didn't know. He'd been too close to climaxing to pay attention to details.

What of her scent, then? He'd had a noseful--and a mouthful--of that last night. But annoyingly, the closed space of the lodge meant that all their scents were mingling together and becoming indistinguishable. He couldn't pick apart the scent of the underwear from the amalgam of them at the table. Maybe, if he managed to get each of them alone for a while...

In any case, all that would have to wait. For now, all he could do was finish his breakfast (a healthy, balanced meal, prepared by Betty: Whole-wheat toast, two eggs, and a mix of blueberries and strawberries). Then it was back to the breeding frames in the adjoining room, where he would be milked again for the next few hours.

As he was being strapped back into the metal framework by Morgan, Rupert felt uncharacteristically morose about the whole thing. What happened last night: he'd loved it. He wanted more of that. But it stood to reason that it probably wouldn't happen again. Whoever it was, they'd already gotten what they wanted from him, and now all he had to look forward to was more of this: more steady, monotonous mechanical milking, until they would finally be sent back to their usual lives at the D.I.C.K facility.

He suddenly couldn't wait for this all to be over and done with.

Morgan noticed his lackluster expression. "Everything alright?" she asked, her brow creasing in concern. "Are the straps too tight?"

He put on a brave face and smiled. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You know, you can refuse this, if you want to. You have that right."

"I know." It just didn't feel right to do so.

After all the government did for him, the life he'd been given, it felt selfish, juvenile even, to make demands over the precise nature of how he was made to squirt his load. He was too overwhelmingly thankful for this life to make any complaints against it.

Morgan hesitated a few minutes longer, but at Rupert's insistence, she slotted him into the suction tube and flicked on the motor. "Okay. Well if at any point you want to stop, you know where the emergency button is. See you in three hours."

"Wait," he called out as she turned to leave. His tongue was already becoming sloppy as the machine pulsed around his cock, but he forced the words out. "Last night... Was... Did you...?"

She gave him a deeply puzzled look. "Did I what?"

Rupert let the question die in his throat, lost in a low groan. "N-Nothing," he said, his eyes falling closed. He couldn't do it--if it wasn't her, he couldn't risk blowing their cover. "Forget."

He kept his eyes shut and pretended to be lost in pleasure until he heard the brush of her coat fade into the distance. Once he opened his eyes and saw she was gone, he stole a glance at the other two males beside him.

Their faces were a picture of tortured bliss; Zack, the zebra to his left, started braying softly as the first of his orgasms rolled over him and his cock spurted rhythmically into the tube, his cum being swallowed away into the containment device behind him. And to Rupert's right, the German Shepherd Geordie was panting fiercely. A moment later, he was cumming too, his head falling back, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, saliva oozing from its tip.

And Rupert--he hadn't cum yet. In fact, he felt nowhere close. Glancing down at himself, it quickly became obvious why: the machine was on, but had been set to its lowest strength. The result was a slow, gentle tug, barely enough to spark his nerves, like the featherlight touch of a teasing hand along his shaft. It still felt good, but it would take a long time to make him cum, if he did at all. He considered pressing the emergency button, but held off on it for now. He could enjoy this. It was gentle enough not to rob him of his thoughts, and he found them drifting back to the previous night, reliving the wonderful, furtive rendezvous with his naughty doctor, whose panties he kept hidden in his pants pocket.

He could smell them, even now: Their scent clung to his clothes and wafted lightly in the air around him, and part of him wished Morgan had fished them out and stuffed them in his mouth for the duration of his milking. He could have closed his eyes and sucked the silk onto the back of his tongue, pretending he was back there, being fucked into his mattress, his mouth full of her sweet musk, her cunt slapping down onto him in its quest to steal copious volumes of his fertile semen.

Rupert shuddered and gave a moan. His cock throbbed heavily in the confines of the plastic tube, the machine teasing him with its steady, gentle pressure. He needed so much more, but there was no point trying to thrust into it: it wasn't affixed to anything except his own body, and there was no friction to be gained from the effort.

He thought of her voice. He'd only heard it in whispers, but she had cried out in the end, hadn't she? The sound could have been made by either of them, Tanya or Morgan. It had been strained, keening. She'd tried to hold it back, but couldn't, her chest heaving with the noise as it climbed her throat and rang out too loud in the silent room.

Had anyone heard them? It seemed impossible they hadn't. But nobody had given him any strange looks that morning, and only one of them had any reason to pretend nothing had happened. Somehow, they'd gotten away with it, and nobody would ever know.

This secret was going to drive him wild any time he thought about it, for months to come.

Her pleasured cry repeated in his mind, and his memory flashed with moments of awareness as her tunnel had clenched around him, drawing his milky fluid up into the deepest depths of her womb. His finger twitched at the emergency button, but he clenched his fist. No; let the machine carry on its steady tease. Something would have to give, eventually. And when it did, he had a feeling it would be momentous.

Rupert was moaning freely now, his voice joining the other males, except his had become sounds of desperation. Of tormented, prolonged pleasure, that felt both incredibly good and intensely frustrating at the same time. He felt a tension building in his groin, like a full dam threatening to burst, but the machine was indifferent to his rising urgency. The slow suck of the tube felt more and more like a teasing mouth to him--the tightness of it, like a hand squeezed around the base of his cock, denying him release.

His eyes flew open, a thought occurring to him suddenly: his mysterious visitor would be pregnant now, wouldn't she? Of course! He'd inevitably find out who the culprit was, it was only a matter of time. Still, it would be weeks before they began to show it. He pictured Tanya and Morgan both, how they had looked as their enormous breasts swelled even further with milk and their bellies had expanded. One of them would soon look like that all over again, because of him, and he couldn't wait to see it.

His cock twitched hard at the thought, sending a warm tingle through his overfull balls. He held the picture in his mind--Yes, there. More of that. He thought of Tanya's breasts, her swollen nipples dripping freely with milk, pictured himself sucking on them, drinking the warm liquid--

He shuddered, balls tightening beneath him, but the peak remained tantalizingly out of reach.

Fuck! It wasn't enough.

His hips had begun thrusting into the air of their own accord. Desperate for stimulation, yet receiving so little. He could go mad with it: the need to cum, his orgasm perpetually just out of reach. Yet he knew that, if and when he did, it would probably be the hardest he'd ever cum in his life.

If he didn't pass out from the strain, first.

How long would he stay trapped like this, before anyone noticed? He rubbed the edge of the emergency button, seconds away from pressing it. But then, finally, his nerves began to tingle in a familiar way, and once it started, there was no stopping the inexorable rise of it, like the rushing waves of a tide coming in.

The moan that rattled out of him was loud; one long, unbroken sound, as his orgasm finally crested with glacial slowness, and his whole body convulsed so hard it made stars dance behind his eyelids. It was so intense; the machine carrying him over each wave at the same agonizingly slow pace, even as his cock pulsed and pulsed into the tube, filling the limited space up far sooner than the plodding mechanism wanted to swallow it away.

And that was an unexpected problem: because once there was no more room in the tube, his muscles locked, his balls unable to empty themselves, leaving him stranding him in a desperate no-man's-land, even as the machine's ongoing stimulation kept his orgasm going and going.

Not enough, he thought, almost in a state of panic. Not enough and far too slow, and there was no more room to cum, but the machine wouldn't stop sucking. It would suck him like this for hours, slow, merciless, and it felt like this one orgasm would be dragged out along that entire time, robbing him of breath and making his toes curl until they cramped up in pain.

His hands, too, had curled into tight fists, and he couldn't open them, couldn't reach the button anymore. Minutes passed like this, his cock a burning, pulsating pillar of under-stimulated flesh, hot cum trapped along its length, his halfway-denied orgasm rolling on and on with no end in sight. He almost didn't even notice it when somebody appeared at his side, pulled away the tube over his cock and discarded it.

A voice floated around him, reassuring words, a concerned jumble: "I've got you, easy now, Rupert, easy."

And when he peeled open his eyes, it was Morgan he saw staring back at him, her face a picture of worry.

But Rupert couldn't speak--his cock ejected another thick stream of cum into the air, causing him to cry out. He thought he was dreaming when he saw Morgan hurriedly unbuttoning her shirt and lifting up her bra, freeing her huge breasts and pressing them around his still-throbbing cock with hasty movements. The warmth of her skin compelled him to thrust deliriously into her cleavage, sending the latter half of his orgasm rocking through him with renewed intensity, long enough for him to see her breasts splattered with several more thick ropes of his milky-white ejaculate.

He was shaking as he came down from it. Morgan released his straps and helped him step down from the frame, but his legs gave out almost instantly. She helped him to sit on the floor and rushed off to the supply cupboard, returning a minute later with moist wipes and a clean towel.

"Rupert, can you look at me?" she said. He lifted his head with some difficulty; it was swimming, his vision hazy.

"What happened?" he slurred.

"The setting got changed. I don't know how that could have happened," she said. "Do you feel okay? You were yelling. Did it hurt?"

Rupert shook his head. He wasn't sure he could explain himself if he tried. That was far from painful. It was... one of the best times he'd had in a milking machine.

"No. I'm fine." He caught her eye as she was wiping his mess from her chest. "You can tell me, you know."

She looked up at him in surprise. "What?"

"I can keep a secret," he urged. "I... I liked it. Not just today, but... You know. The other thing."

"What other thing?" She frowned. "Rupert, do you know who did this?"

"It wasn't you?"

"I won't say I hadn't thought about having some fun with you during thi," she said, "and maybe I could've helped you a little more... professionally, just now. But I'd never risk my job to do it."

His gaze fell to his lap. She sounded sincere. And if it wasn't her, then...

But why would Tanya change the setting on his machine?

The only possible result of her sabotage would be that he'd be a little fuller than usual until the evening's session. He'd be uncomfortable, possibly even in pain with it. She wouldn't do that to him, not unless she planned to pay him another visit between then and now.

But in broad daylight? With everyone else awake and fully aware of every noise they might make? That seemed unthinkable.

Nevertheless, it was the only reasonable conclusion he could arrive at. And he didn't feel entirely okay with it, as Morgan helped him dry off and brought him a fresh set of clothes to wear. He got dressed and she guided him back out into the common room, where the two other doctors looked up from their laptops in surprise.

"Rupert needs a break," Morgan said, ushering him towards the sofa. "Keep him company for a while? I need to go run a few errands."

Rupert sat awkwardly on the sofa opposite them and stared at the hearth, suddenly finding himself with two full hours to kill. What the hell was he going to do with himself? He was still so hard...

Glancing up, he saw Tanya watching him, her head tilted slightly. She gave him an enigmatic smile.

"Well, since you'll be up and about for a while," she said, "We might as well put you to use. We're going to need more firewood soon. Have you handled an ax before?"

Rupert nodded. "A little."

"Perfect," she said, setting her computer aside and leaping to her feet. "Come with me, then. Oh, but first, we should probably get you something warmer to wear. It's pretty cold outside."

It took a moment for her words to register as Rupert followed her upstairs. "Wait, we're going outside? Is that allowed?"

"Under supervision? Sure," she said, leaving him in the hallway for a few moments as she entered a supply closet, returning with a heavy fleece coat and a pair of thick, woolen socks. "Put these on."

"Um, what about..." He gestured to himself awkwardly. His phallus was like a rolled up blanket stuffed down the front of his t-shirt and pants, awkward enough to walk around in, but potentially a dangerous obstruction if he was going to be swinging an ax around.

"Betty told me the antaphrodisiac didn't work on you before."

"No. Well..." He looked at her. Maybe the antaphrodisiac didn't work. Or maybe he'd never been given it at all. Either way, it seemed Tanya wasn't willing to make this any easier on him. "What should I do, then?"

She put her hand to her chin and looked thoughtful for a minute. "Well, I suppose... Wait here."

Rupert put on the socks and coat as she went back inside the closet. He heard her rummaging around for a minute, before she came back out holding a bedsheet.

As he watched, she rolled the sheet up into a long, slender rope. Then, tugging up his shirt, she proceeded to wrap the length around his midsection, cock included, and tie it at the back.

"There, that should hold everything in place," she declared with a satisfied grin.

Rupert gawped at her. That was her solution? Not to ease his suffering at all, but just to make sure it wasn't flopping all about while he worked? What about the ache in his balls, his lightheadedness with all his body's blood gathered between his legs?

Was this some sort of game, to her? A punishment? Did she enjoy seeing him in discomfort?

Whatever her goal, he could tell nothing from her face. And as she led him back down and towards the back porch of the lodge, Rupert seriously considered saying something to the other doctors. Because surely, there was nothing standard about his experience here so far. If Tanya was abusing her power, Morgan and Betty should know about it, so that they wouldn't accidentally be labelled accomplices by association.

As soon as he stepped outside, the cold air hit his face like a bucket of ice, and his mind was dragged away from the tightness in his cock. He wrapped the coat more securely around him, his breath misting in the frigid air.

It wasn't snowing right then, but there had been a fresh fall overnight. The slight breeze in the air picked up tiny icicles like frozen dust, making his face feel damp as they melted against the heat of his fur. He followed Tanya down a winding path toward the treeline, noting it already had several sets of footprints moving back and forth, and just beyond the sight of the lodge, they stopped at a small clearing with a flat tree stump and several slender felled trees waiting to be chopped.

Tanya picked up the wedge-shaped ax and handed it to him. "If you get too cold, just say the word. You're not obligated to do this, I just thought you might appreciate something to keep your mind occupied for a while."

"Right," he mumbled. He took a position in front of the stump and waited as Tanya moved one of the logs into place. "Has there been any word about how long this will last? When can we go back?"

"Shouldn't be more than another day, I think," she replied, stepping back.

Rupert swung the ax; it made a solid thwack as it lodged into the stump, cleaving the log cleanly in two.

"Not bad," Tanya remarked, setting up another.

"Yeah, well. I do have a lot of pent up"--Thwack--"energy, right now."

She hummed in response. Rupert clenched his jaw, increasingly miffed at her unwillingness to open up to him. He would prefer if she just came clean about all this. He already knew she was behind it--why carry on the pretense?

"I know what's going on," he said, lining up another swing.

"Do you?"

Thwack.

"To be honest, I don't like it. I don't agree with it."

"What don't you agree with?"

He let the ax drop to the floor and turned fully to face her, his arms crossed in challenge. "All of it. The secrecy, the tampering with meds and equipment. All so you can get whatever it is you're getting out of this. I will admit, it was fun that first night. I don't mind the odd after-hours visits. That much I could go along with, but everything else, it's just too much. And I'm not going to just let you carry on breaking the rules, because it could get everyone else in trouble. I won't be a part of it anymore."

He couldn't stop once he'd started, the words tumbling out in a river of all his pent-up frustration and confusion. At the end of it he stared at her, slightly breathless, waiting for a response.

Tanya showed no surprise at his little speech; her expression remained carefully neutral, but her long tail flicked behind her in obvious irritation.

"I'm sorry if this has upset you."

Rupert's fur bristled. There it was, then--confirmation at last. Or at least, as close as she seemed willing to admit.

"However..." She took a step toward him. "I believe that a lot of your anger about all this is because you weren't told from the beginning what was about to happen. You don't like surprises, do you?"

That much was true. But it was more than that. "I don't like putting the other doctors in jeopardy for the sake of your games."

"Oh, Rupert." She circled him slowly, her arms trailing down his sides, wrapping around his torso, skimming over the stiff bulge at his stomach. "You really have no idea what all this is about, do you?"

"I--"

"Stay there," she ordered. Rupert felt a tug at his back, and quickly realised she was undoing the knotted sheet holding his cock in place. "Now, since you don't like surprises, I'm going to tell you exactly what's happening next. Starting with the blindfold I'm about to place over your eyes."

"Blindfold? But why--"

"Shh." There was a rustle of cloth, and then a black stripe descended over his vision and pressed cold and smooth over his eyes. Rupert tensed, but was so confused as to why he let it happen, if only for curiosity's sake.

"And now, I'm going to walk you back up against a tree."

Her words offered no question. She wasn't giving him a choice in this, yet Rupert felt compelled to obey her. Perhaps he had been conditioned to be obedient to his doctors, but whatever the reason, he allowed her hands to guide him backward, and Rupert half-walked, half-stumbled in the thick snow, until his back felt the solid resistance of a large tree.

"Now, I'm going to tie your hands around the tree."

"What is this?" Rupert asked, incredulous. "Am I about to be summarily executed for threatening to rat you out? Because I think it'll be pretty obvious, to everyone, what exactly happened here when they find me."

She laughed, the sound of it more playful than sinister, which was perhaps the only reason he didn't rip off the blindfold and make a run for the lodge. He still had no idea what she was doing, he was fairly certain she wasn't actually about to murder him.

Well, that was his hope.

His arms were pulled gently, but firmly, around the trunk of the tree, and tied together at the back. She used the sheet that had been tied around his waist before, and he gave a tug, confirming to himself that the knot was solid--for better or worse, he'd just implicitly allowed whatever was about to happen to him. A flicker of panic passed though his mind at that, even as he begun to suspect she had an ulterior motive to all this.

He just hoped nobody else would find out about it.

"Now, I'm going to leave you for a moment," Tanya said, adding in a somewhat cheeky tone, "Don't go anywhere."

"Hey. Wait... Don't..." His objections faded as the sound of her footsteps fell away, the crunching of snow growing quieter, until Rupert knew that he was alone.

He listened to the wind in the trees. After several minutes alone, his fingers were starting to feel numb, and panic rose in him again.

What if her plan was to just... leave him here, to freeze to death?

He pulled at his restraints, but it was no good. He couldn't slip his wrists out of the loop, nor was he able to rub the blindfold against the tree at an angle that would pull it free from his eyes.

He was about to start calling for help, when he heard the crunch of snow again. Tanya. Thank god. Rupert relaxed again as she came and stood in front of him.

"For a minute there, I thought you--"

The cloth stuffed into his mouth muffled the remainder of his words, and Rupert jolted in surprise. Slim fingers pressed the silk material between his lips until he was thoroughly gagged, and he realised with a start that he knew that taste: it was the same panties she'd used that first night. Or at the very least, the same owner. And judging by the intensity of the taste and the warmth of the material, they had been worn today--freshly removed.

At the memory of that first night, and of the deep, earthy taste and musky smell that flooded his senses, Rupert's cock jerked against his stomach.

Deft hands promptly pushed the wings of his coat apart and lifted his t-shirt. She pulled his pants down to his ankles, leaving his very full, rock-solid cock and balls hanging out in full display. In such a vulnerable position, an intense thrill passed through Rupert. She could do anything to him like this, he knew; he would have no control whatsoever. A shiver ran through him at the idea, and a second later, something tickled along the skin of his cock as a thin stream of warm liquid spilled from its tip.

He was utterly unprepared for the shock of pleasure he felt a moment later, when a warm, wet tongue flattened against his shaft and dragged upward along his flesh. Rupert's head fell back against the tree, a muffled noise escaping around the silk in his mouth. The moist heat of her breath against his air-chilled flesh made all the nerve endings along his cock hyper-responsive, and as she licked away the leaking fluid, more spurted out to join it.

He tried to speak, to tell her it was good, that he wanted more--but it was futile. His tongue was pinned. All his mouth action achieved was to spread the salty flavour of her around his taste buds, sending intense signals of pleasure down to his groin. Groaning again, he mirrored the movements of her tongue against him, licking the fabric as if his face was buried between her legs, tonguing between and around the folds of her labia.

Her tongue rose along his shaft until it reached the glans. Then her lips spread apart over his slit to lap directly at the source of its steady leak. Rupert's voice tightened, his moans tripping over each other in his throat. He was glad for the gag in his mouth, because he wasn't sure he could stay quiet through this. Fuck, did he wish he could look at her right now. He could picture the scene well enough in his mind's eye: Tanya knelt in front of him, on her knees in the snow. Her torso bare despite the cold. His cock a solid pillar of rock between her hands. Her eyes hooded, lips stained with his sticky precum.

But the image fell apart when he felt a pair of warm breasts suddenly bracketing his cock, enveloping it between their soft, spongy weight. They began to slide up and down his length, all while that mouth stayed licking and sucking at his slit, and he didn't have the imagination to picture something so provocative, so downright sexy.

All he could do was feel it: the friction as her breasts rubbed along his shaft, the kiss of her nipples as they bumped against his hip bones, the delicious heat of her breath and the pressure of her probing, curling tongue. He was too large to fit far past her lips, but that didn't stop her from trying: her mouth covered the flushed head of his glans and moaned against him, sending delicious vibrations through the length of his cock.

Rupert's toes curled and his chest heaved with a near-constant stream of gasps and moans, all absorbed into the ball of silk stuffed in his mouth.

As her movements increased in speed, he began thrusting up between her boobs, the head of his cock slipping in and out of her waiting mouth. It felt almost like he was fucking her, except her boobs were dry, giving a gentle burn to the friction, and the pressure wasn't as much. Somehow it still felt good, though, as if he didn't necessarily need the extra stimulation: it was more the idea of it, of thrusting between her breasts, imminently to spray her face with his cum, all while he sucked the flavorful moisture from her underwear.

And there was no need to hold back his pleasured moans, because nobody could hear him anyway. He let his lungs heave and his throat vibrate behind the silk cloth as much as they desired, and it was the most free he had ever felt while being literally tied up and helpless.

His muscles were twitching uncontrollably, his balls a solid mass the size of a beach ball pressed up against his shaft, and suddenly he was cumming, his head thrown forward and his heels scraping against the bark of the tree. His pelvic muscles clenched and pulsed as the mouth over his cock attempted to swallow spurt after spurt of his milky semen, and the more he felt that insatiable tongue lapping at him, her breasts still bouncing encouragingly along his shaft, the harder he came against her.

It felt like a small eternity until the pulses slowed and finally stopped, though his muscles still twitched at every light touch of her hands. By now he was struggling to breathe, sucking in air through his nose, but she pulled the wad of silk from his mouth so that he could gasp and gulp the snow-cold oxygen again.

A moment later she was crowding against him, her cum-splashed boobs smothering his face. Rupert's hands clenched at the back of the tree. He wanted to touch her so badly--to grab handfuls of her flesh, dig his fingers into her fur. But for whatever reason, Tanya had decided to render him passive. He could only stand there, blind and tied, while she had her way with him.

His cock was still standing erect, trapped between their stomachs. She ground herself against it, using the hard base of his cock as a means to pleasure herself. He felt the hard nub of her swollen clitoris as it dragged back and forth against him, and heard her gasping somewhere above his head.

She stimulated herself on him for a while, the space between her legs growing wetter and stickier as she did so, until finally it seemed she had had enough and lowered her body onto him, sinking him deep into the tight passage of her cunt. He gasped in surprise, the noise once again muffled, except this time it was lost into the slim crack between her breasts. Rupert flicked his tongue out to lick her skin as she started slowly fucking him.

Rupert felt dizzy with arousal, his mind fogged-over with oxytocin. Maybe this is why she'd sabotaged the milking machine: she wanted him horny, willing and able to fill her up. Right now, despite his earlier feelings, he was both of those things. All thought of protecting the other doctors, of respecting the rules, had evaporated beneath the carnal need to fuck and breed, to fill her womb and not stop until her belly was swollen with his cum.

His chest shuddered as he struggled to keep breathing, dragging in precious lungfuls of air as her boobs bounced against his face. Thankfully, his suffocation didn't last long; pausing her movements, she leaned back in order to manipulate her left nipple against the seam of his lips. Rupert took the hint, gladly swirling his tongue around the smooth, furless circle of skin, before sucking it into his mouth, along with as much of the bulk of her breast as he could manage.

Given the size of them, that wasn't much at all; what he did manage stretched his jaw uncomfortably wide.

But despite the discomfort, he was loving it. As he tongued and sucked at her nipple, his feet found purchase against the base of the tree, and it gave him leverage to thrust up with far harder force than before. Thanks to their vertical position, he had gravity on his side: for every time he slammed his cock up inside her, her weight would fall back onto him with equal force. The result was an intense, kinetic fucking that had the nipple slipping free of his mouth again almost immediately, her breasts bouncing so hard he could hear them slapping against her ribs.

And that wasn't all that was slapping: every time she sank back down, her voluminous ass would meet his balls as they swung the other way. The result was a minor symphony of percussive skin against skin, the noise ringing out into the cold air along with Tanya's tight gasps and Rupert's smothered moans.

He was getting close again--they both were. But rather than redouble his efforts, Rupert switched to a slower pace, which clearly irritated his female doctor.

"Harder," she whispered, her hands gripping hard at his shoulders.

"Let me see you," Rupert said. "Take off this blindfold."

"No," she breathed. "Keep going! Please!"

"You can try doing it yourself," he replied, "but if you want my help, I want to see you."

She gave a growl of frustration. And, for a while, tried to do as he suggested. But it was supremely difficult in her position to lift herself enough to give them adequate friction, and after a few minutes of fumbling movement, she was clearly exhausting herself.

"Damn it."

"I don't get why you care to keep me blind," Rupert said. "I already know it's you."

She was still for a moment, both of them catching their breaths. Rupert's cock remained inside her, and he still felt close to cumming, but it wouldn't happen until he joined her in the effort. They were at a stalemate.

With a sigh, she pried at his blindfold and slipped it up over his forehead. His eyes needed a few seconds of squinting to adjust to the glare of the snow, but when he looked at her, he gasped.

It wasn't Tanya.

"Now, listen... You are not to speak a word of this to anyone, do you understand?"

Rupert's gaze drifted over her, from her brown fur and long, pinned-back ears, to the two prominent teeth at the front of her mouth. And now he understood the need for his hands to be tied; because it was likely she'd be unable to stop him reaching around her ass, and the tail he'd find there would be short and fluffy: the tail of a rabbit.

The tail of Denise, the Overseer.

"But... why?" he asked, even as his hips began to move again. He never thought he would have the opportunity to mate Denise before, but now that it was happening, he couldn't think of anything he wanted more.

"This isn't technically allowed," Denise explained, biting her bottom lip as she resumed rocking her hips. "As someone in a position of ultimate authority over the facility, I'm not supposed to be sampling my own stock. But..."

"But here you are."

"I've wanted you since you first arrived at my facility," she said, hooking her heels around the backs of his calves.

"Do the others know?"

"Only Tanya knows," she said. "She helped set this up for me. And, in return, I allowed her to visit you last night."

"That was Tanya?" Rupert shuddered, the pleasure beginning to pool once more in his groin, building on itself with every thrust. "But... The panties--"

"Those are mine," Denise said, grinning coyly. "I'm glad you liked them."

Rupert's cock twitched inside her in response, and his eyes flickered closed.

"You... You won't be able... to hide this," he managed. "As soon as you... start to show..."

"I won't need to hide it, only how I acquired it," she replied. "And don't worry about Tanya, I'll take care of her too. Now, stop talking, Rupert. We don't have a lot of time."

He didn't need to be told twice. The thought of the Overseer carrying his children made pleasure dance up and down the length of his cock as it pistoned into her, her body's own lubrication making him slip deeper and deeper, until he was kissing her cervix with the tip. Denise buried her face against his neck to stifle her own moans as she thrust against him, her fingers working furiously between her legs, until he felt her begin to jerk and clench around him, her rhythm falling to pieces.

And as she came, her muscular contractions dragged Rupert over the edge with her. He gave one final thrust, the head of his cock popping through the tight ring of her cervix, and his orgasm slammed into him, making him cry out as his balls began emptying themselves into her womb.

Rupert's body jerked against her, his arms aching at the strain of holding him upright. His cock squirted thick pulses of cum inside her, until it had filled up the available space, then continued pulsing, forcing her womb to stretch, to continue filling with the buildup that he'd been denied the release of earlier. She continued to quiver and tremble over him, but her orgasm ended far sooner than his; it took several long minutes before his eyes could open again and he regained control of his limbs.

Eventually, it seemed his cock had given all it had to give, and for the first time in a long time, it began to soften. It slipped out of her body as it did so, and Rupert slumped against her, suddenly so exhausted he could scarcely keep his head up.

Denise's womb was so swollen with cum, she appeared pregnant already. She peered down at herself, a look of quiet awe on her face.

"Incredible," she whispered. "Thank you, Rupert."

"Overseer, I--"

"Please. Call me Denise, at least for today," she said, lifting his head so he could look at her.

"Denise. How are you here? You're not staying at the lodge, are you?"

She grinned, her two long teeth peeking out from between her lips. "Oh, no. The others would've known instantly. But there is a small hut--you may have noticed it when you first arrived--on the road leading here. It's within walking distance; I've been staying there."

"Oh..." That made sense. The shack was to the west, closer to the main road, so she could enter and exit the area without anyone noticing. "Then, what happens now?"

"Now, I have to leave again," she said, her eyes turning sad. "I probably won't get another opportunity like this. But I'm glad to have done it."

"Me too," Rupert replied. He meant it; he'd remember his time here for the rest of his life.

Denise circled behind him and undid the sheet tied around his wrists, and Rupert seethed at the ache in his muscles as his arms were finally let loose. The pain had been worth it, though. He liked being tied up. It was the best of both worlds: all the restraint of the milking machine, with the responsive body of a real female over his cock. The perfect combination.

The Overseer bid him farewell, and he watched her trudge through the snow until she disappeared back through the trees. It wasn't long after that Tanya returned. Rupert had clothed himself again by then, but when she looked at him, there was a knowing glint in her eye.

"Ready to come back to the lodge?" she asked.

Rupert nodded.

---

They stayed at the lodge for another day. Morgan and Betty remained none-the-wiser about Denise's secret visit, and Tanya continued to pretend as though none of it had happened. But she knew.

There were no more nighttime visits, no machine malfunctions, but Rupert hadn't been expecting any. This time, when they gave him the medicine, it worked instantly--Betty was shocked, but Tanya assuaged her confusion with some fabricated story about him needing a larger dosage, or somesuch. Rupert wasn't really paying attention. But whatever she said evidently worked, and they spoke nothing of it for the remainder of their stay.

Word soon arrived that the inspection back at the D.I.C.K facility had been completed, and they could all head back the next morning.

As the bus took them back down the snowy road, Rupert spotted the little cabin where Denise had secretly been staying. Any tracks she may have left behind in the snow were already lost, blanketed beneath a fresh snowfall, and Rupert smiled secretly to himself. This was a lot more fun than he could have ever hoped for.

He wondered if they would be coming back here next year.