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Playthings of the Rich and Famous

Chapter Two

By StripedKittyScribe

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My name is "Rocky," and that's about how my life has gone. A product of the Galatea Corporation that went awry, my destiny seems to lie somewhere among the stars. If only I could stop getting sidetracked on his way there! Sold to Angelic Escapes, I spend my days trying to discover just what it is that's wrong with me. Or is that what's right with me? It's hard to tell with how my assignments go.

This story may include bondage, random diatribes, dubious/non-consensual sex, tips for being a better lover, domination, comedy, sadism, distractions, masochism, impossible sex acts for mere mortals, exhibitionism, broken/fake science, sex machines, and intrigue. There. I warned you. Now if you keep going and you find something that you don't like, it's not my fault!

(Editor's note: I tried to keep him on track, I swear to god. It's like trying to get an 8 year old to remember what happened 5 minutes ago when he just got a new toy just now. As it stands, I'm still transcribing his various mutterings and wanderings, so this may take some time. Bear with us as I try to get him to focus on something long enough to talk about it without shifting to 'this one time at slut camp'.)

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Quality Assurance

Four hours later, and I was still strapped to an "examination station". Which for those of you who haven't seen it, is a St. Andrews cross with medi-cles. What's a medi-cle? Why that's a medical-use omni flexible self lubricating probe. Yes. It's a medical-tentacle. And if I had a bit that poked out or a place where a bit could poke in, I was either inserted, or inserted within.

My dick had a specialized one that was clamped most of the way down. Why only most? Because this cougar is, as they noted, exceptional. My nipples each had one. My tail had one. My EARS had some. And anywhere something could go in without breaking the skin? It did. My ass. My muzzle. Both nostrils. At least those were breathing tubes. I could feel probes on my eardrums. It was not comfortable. I'd been there for approximately three hours, fifty seven minutes and three seconds. Four seconds. Oh.

You'd like to know how I knew that? Part of the 'station' was a visor fitted over the face with soothing vistas, only for some unknown reason to me, the damn thing had a timer on it. I don't know if it was supposed to be a 'look at how long you've lasted' prize or if it was supposed to remind me that, legally speaking, according to her boss, she could only hold me for another eight-ish hours before releasing me.

And the worst part was that I could hear them. I could hear them basically trying to think of new tests that they could run in a limited time. DNA test? Oh, that one was easy. They tried to wear me out by just tripping all the right nerves and making me cum. Over. And over.

Remember how I said 'any time you get to cum is a good time'? There are limits. Even for me.

They only stopped when they had to change the sample container. For the hundredth time. Nope. Not exaggerating. They're small. It's not that I was overwhelming the machine. I was overwhelming their on-hand inventory of sample containers and they needed more sample containers. Blood sample? Got that too, though I'm not sure which area they got that from.

I know that I already said the worst part. Weirdest part? I could feel the tentacle down my throat, yes, all the way down my throat, pulsing and spurting something into me. Did I panic? For a few seconds, you bet your left gonad I did. Someone moved up and petted my hip and said that it was a nutrient slurry. And then they apologized because that was the only way that I was going to get any nutrition for the day. They just had too many tests. If I ever find out who that person was, I'm going to fly back to Galatea and kiss them. Unless they're not into guys. Then I'll just... I dunno, buy them a cookie or something.

I heard all kinds of stuff. Metabolic rate higher than normal, need to eat constantly. So that's where he's getting the material, but how's he producing it so fast? Don't know. All the organs are normal sized, they're just efficient beyond all reason.

Stuff like that. The clock ticked over to the 4 hour-and-change mark, and I felt everything start sliding out of me. Oh thank the stars that haven't even been born yet, that part is over.

When I coughed after my throat finally got clear, I slumped against the restraints holding me up, panting. I was an absolute mess, and I could feel it. I was sweaty and there were globby little bits of some kind of medical paste anywhere that a medi-cle had been.

I don't know if this is a holdover from feral ancestry, or if this is just a 'me' thing, but I'm really weird in this way apparently. Suck a dick or eat a pussy? Hot. Get cum on? SUPER hot. For about ten minutes. Maybe less. After that point? I want a shower, and I want it NOW.

Coughing one last time, I sucked in a breath and then tried to look toward the medical crew, or at least where noises were coming from. "Clock was... kinda sadistic, don'tcha think?"

That shut the room up. I looked around, still with the damn visor on my face. "Guys? Mind getting this visor off my head and letting me shower all this crap off so that I don't get your next testing station messy?"

"Did you have a clock on in his visor?"

"No, doc."

"Did you have a clock on?"

"Nope. Lemme pull up his feed."

I rocked my hips while flexing my kegel muscles, making my still-hard dick fling stuff all over the place. "Hey!"

That got a round of 'augh!'s and one 'ooh~'. The only thing that I know about that 'ooh' was that it wasn't little miss mad scientist. She said, "Rocky, just hang on a minute, we've had a breakthrough."

I slumped. "Not like I'm going anywhere," I said as I just hung there. At least all of my weight was on my thighs from the straps there. And what annoyed me was that my balls itched. Like. Ok, girls, maybe you don't get this. I dunno. But guys. GUYS. You know that feeling when you're just walking around, wearing underwear, and something shifts juuuust a bit. Maybe you saw a hot little number. Maybe someone flashed a boob. Maybe you just had one of those spontaneous stiffies. Maybe the temperature shifted just enough that they hang a little lower or higher. Something happens. And it doesn't really itch, or burn, like an insect bite. But it's there. And you just... fuckin' need to scratch it. But you can't. Cause you're in a spot where that's rude. And you shift and squirm, and you bounce a couple of times. And it doesn't work. And you know it's not actually pain. But it's getting worse. And you just need to get your hand in there and take care of it? You know how that drives you absolutely bonkers?!

This was that. Times a million. Cause I'd been that way for four fucking hours with some medi-cle slithering up my ass and brushing the back of my balls and I just knew that there was some medi-goop there or sensor paste or something.

"Yeah, there's the feed. No timer showing."

I rolled my eyes, and looked. "Lower right quadrant, whoever you are." Then I paused. "No, wait." I looked left, then right. "It's actually in my vision. It's like I've got some kind of internal HUD or something."

That got more silence. "Yaaaay, problem solved, it's not your equipment!" I let the silence hang. "So how about that shower?"

I'll save you the suspense. The answer was 'no'.

*

No, what this handsome tawny kitty got instead was wheeled into another room. Yes. Wheeled. They just tipped the damn frame back and rolled my happy ass through the hallways, still hooked to the device. And our good friends the Medi-cles came with me! Yaaaaaaaaaay!

From how they were yelling for people to get out of the way, you'd have thought that I was either about to flatline, deliver a baby, or provide an organ transplant for the Galactic Council's Chairperson.

Though I've seen holos of her, and I wouldn't mind giving her a few medicinal shots of Dr. Rocky's Patented Serum. Kind of a hardass, but that lady knows how to wield power, and that's hot. Plus, there's no way that you can tell me she's not a freak. Not a single way. Hardass in politics or not, no woman walks around with a butt like that in a power suit unless she's got something other than a stick up her ass, if you get my drift, nudge wink.

Where was I?

Right. Medical frame roller derby.

I genuinely have no idea what anyone was actually saying. I remember words, and some phrases. I remember that they came back out to play. The medi-cles, I mean. Full suite. Gotta say, whoever did their pathfinding algorithm did a bang-up job, because there wasn't a single hint of a mistarget. Everything went right back to where it was, including my goddamned balls draped over a goddamned slimy anal-probing device! And this time the whole back portion got that nice coating of lube. Which is only hot if you're getting nailed by someone who used too much.

Tip four. There is no such thing as too much lube when it comes to anal sex.

Anyway. I got myself wheeled through a whole bunch of rooms and we ended up in some place that I could only say smelled like ozone and monosodium glutamate powder.

"What the fuck," said a brand new voice. Feminine. Kinda nasal, a little on the squeaky side. Maybe another mouse or rat.

"Mandy, I need you to tap into his imprinting kit. Now."

"He's... leaking! All over my server room!"

"That's not him, that's the contact gel and lube," one of the other random techs offered. As if that really made a difference. I rolled my eyes, since that was really about all I could do.

"Mandy! He's got an internal HUD."

Squeaky-Mandy let out a 'pbbbt'. "No fuckin' way, that shit isn't even on our Gene-Eye Jakes and Janes yet."

Doc-Mandy did something that sounded like a palm-on-fur impact. Not really a hard one. Could have been a clap. Could have been a slap. Squeak-Mandy squeaked in alarm, didn't sound like pain though.

"Mandy. He's got a fucking timer going on in his lower left visual field. And it's not on the visor. Get me plugged into his imprinting kit or I'm pulling your name out of the playtime lottery," said Doc-Mandy.

"Alright, alright, already... Just... don't... drip anywhere important," Squeaky-Mandy said as she started clattering away on a keyboard. An actual keyboard. Holy shit, I didn't even know they made those any more. Everyone just uses speech to text or a virtual one.

They spent another two hours going over code. You really want me to tell you the way the subfunctions work? I can't. Why? I can't say. Wanna hear more? Tough. I literally cannot say. What I can say is that Doc-Mandy and Squeaky-Mandy went over what felt like every fucking line of code in my imprinting kit, both what had already been uploaded and what was supposed to be uploaded. They couldn't actually go through every line, but apparently Squeaky-Mandy did some weird checksum thing, and it all checked out.

Which you would think made Doc-Mandy happy!

It did not.

If anything it made her more angry, and she proceeded to wheel me through the hallways, again. I won't say that I got sick and puked. I didn't. Couldn't really have even if I'd wanted to with the medi-cle down my throat. But watching a nice stable picture of a big blue lake in the middle of pine forested mountain sides, while feeling your inner ear telling you that you're spinning left, right, right, left, right, left, while bouncing up and down and getting kinda-fucked in the ass because the medi-cles weren't supposed to be used while mobile and their sensors couldn't quite compensate to remain completely stable was disorienting. To say the least.

Along the way, someone's com started to ring, and I heard Doc-Mandy say, "Dr. Tenning. .... I'm barely halfway into my testing. ... No, we haven't found any answers, just more questions. ... Well I can't just throw him into the line like this! ... Rob, I'm serious, his... Rob. ... ROB. His caloric requirements are nearly 8000 kcals a day. ... Yes, obviously that explains the source of the volume, but not the why. ... Rob, he's got to eat four times as much as a standard model, and that's just his minimum requirements, it's somewhere closer to 10k for full performance. ... Well how about this, he's got an internal HUD. ... Yeah, this is proof that he's got something wrong with him that we can't just release to. ... You tell that vixen that she needs to fucking FIND me a reason, I'm on a trail here, Rob. ... Yes, it's fucking worth it, if I can find the triggers for this, we'll be sitting on a pile of credits that will dwarf anything you could name. ... Bigger. ... Yeah. That's what I thought. I need you to stall, Rob."

She hung up, I guess, and said to the crew of technicians, "It seems that the client found out about the delay and sent someone over from their local offices to personally inspect and take receipt directly. And wouldn't you know, like any damn surprise inspection, she's zeroed in on our one problem."

This time, I got shoved into what could only have been a surgical suite. That or someone who cleaned their office with medical grade sterilization gear. Could be either one. I've known a few OCD types. You know, the ones who say that their house is filthy but they don't have time to clean it, so they hire a professional crew, and the crew shows up and goes 'dafuq are we doing here, I've seen more dirt on the edge of a knife than your whole house', and the homeowner gets all pissy that they didn't do anything.

"Uh, hey there, Mandy. What...um... what's up?" Yay, more new voices! A guy this time. Kinda sounded effeminate though. No judgment, just telling you what I heard.

"Jessie, I need a full inventory. Everything. You can start with the computer pings but if that comes up all green I don't care, I want a check of seals and everything. I think that we've got a missing experimental kit," said Doc-Mandy.

Jessie sputtered, then said, "No way. No fuckin' way, you know that I don't let anything like that out of my sight without triplicate documentation and orders from both R&D and the VP of ops."

Whatever the problem was, though, Jessie got right to it, because a few swipes and taps on control surfaces probably started a computer count, and then someone walked across the floor and there was a bunch of beeping, like someone using a keypad. Then a rattle of keys. Physical keys. A lot of them. "Get him up against the wall," Doc Mandy said, and they wheeled me over to a wall and stood me up completely. "Get him jacked and locked," she said, and they did... something to the base of my skull. It didn't hurt, it just felt like someone pushed something hard and rubber coated against the back of my head.

"See? There you are. Physical seals on every experimental kit we have. Every single one. If someone got an experimental kit to put in your boy there, they didn't get it from our stores. And before you ask, yes, parts and labor are documented so no one could sneak stuff out of the lab, take it home, assemble an unmarked kit and then bring it in and swap it. Can't happen. Not after two years ago, and we caught all of those."

Jessie walked back across the office. How did I know it was Jessie? Because no one in the crew that was bouncing me all over the building had touched me in a pleasant way since this 'test' started, and someone trailed a finger right across my groin as they passed. Nice touch. Delicate but playful. Came just barely to the point of touching the base of my cock, but didn't. Dull claws. Not a cat. Probably painted, they felt too smooth to be just filed down. Felt like a lacquer.

Jessie sat down in their chair and hummed to themself as they did something. "Hardware scan shows.... Matching numbers to what's in the system. Whatever it is that you think you've got, don't know how to help you."

Doc-Mandy let out a little yell of frustration and something thumped the wall next to my head. "None of this makes sense. It's showing a clean install of a standard kit on a standard model in every test that we're running. I'm still waiting on the DNA sequence, but something tells me I'm not going to find anything in there, nor in the bloodwork."

Jessie made a 'hmmm' sound, and this time fingers trailed up my leg. I liked Jessie.

"Well. There's nothing standard about this big boy," they almost purred, and I swear I heard them lick their lips. "You sure you can't leave him here with me? I'm sure that I could run some tests of my own on himOW!"

A light smack had sounded right as Jessie yelped in pain. "The only testing you want to do is see if he can match the toys you have at home. The answer is yes, he can."

Jessie was sulking. "Well you don't have to be mean about it. You're just kind of a mean person, Mandy." I started nodding. Emphatically. Not that anyone seemed to be paying attention. "Keeping this poor stud hard just for whatever tests you need done?"

"That's another thing. We're not keeping him hard. He just... is."

That got Jessie's attention. "Oh, well now I'm interested. How long has he been like this?"

I checked my apparently internal hud. It read 6:37:44.

"Coming up on seven hours."

Jessie whistled at that. "Well let's see. I'm guessing that you tried to get him off to get him to calm down, and that didn't work." Jessie stood up and moved over to me, and I felt a pair of soft lips brush my cheek. "Poor thing," they soothed, stroking my shoulder. "You've been hard the whole time you've been awake?" I nodded. "And you've cum at least once?" I nodded. "And it just never went down?" I nodded.

Jessie was smart. And more importantly than that, Jessie was being nice to me. If I got the chance to, I would be Jessie's plaything for a week. "Have you tried something non-standard?" I cocked my head to the side, I didn't understand. "Try this. You wanna have sex right now, right?" I shrugged, and then nodded. "Tell yourself that you don't want it any more."

But. But I did. Sex was fantastic. I shook my head. More petting. "I'm just testing something, handsome. Trust me. Just think to yourself, 'I've had enough sex, I don't want it right now'."

But I did. Like. I really did. I didn't even know what Jessie's tastes were. Other than apparently bound and spread eagled cougar males with enough dick to sate a drunken sorority. But. Jessie was petting me, and it was so damn nice to be touched like that. Hell, I was purring. So I tried. And...

Nothing.

"Hm. Well, the interface isn't interfering with neurologicals. I don't doubt you've got tests that confirm that in other ways, but you see this right here? This pathway is showing as open right now. If, IF, he's cum recently enough, that should trip closed. You might be looking at some kind of endocrine feedback loop. You said he's bulkier than the model should be?"

Doc-Mandy said, "Wait, are you telling me that he's just... hormonal as fuck? Testosterone is dumping into his stream non stop for that kind of fuck everything that moves mentality? That doesn't make any sense, he's not aggressive. Like. Not at all. Jessie, we took him in for preliminary examination and he went down on her before he penetrated."

Jessie ran a finger along my jawline. "Oh, I bet she liked that, didn't she?" I nodded. Smug. Why shouldn't I be?

Jessie giggled. "Well I don't know what to tell you. All I can say is that either he's got a sex drive that's completely off the charts, which coming from me is saying a lot, OR he's got some kind of hardware-based feedback loop."

Doc-Mandy said, "Alright, let's test that out." And she triggered an orgasm in me. It just hit. Wham. I bucked against the straps as much as I could, twisting and tugging as I emptied my balls for the somethingth time that day.

Jessie gasped. "That was. ... it. ... you... Augh, what a waste. I could have helped him out, you know."

Doc-Mandy snapped her fingers at Jessie, "I'm on the clock here, I've got less than six hours to find out what's going on with him. I'm more than halfway through my clock and all I have are null results."

Jessie sighed dramatically and after a few seconds, they said, "Well, I think that whatever you've got going on, it's a hardware issue. This pathway is just jacked open. I can fix it right now. Give me a couple of minutes with a couple of tools and I can get this fixed up right quick. You can watch it on the monitor there."

Doc-Mandy made a grunt of agreement, and then said, "I'm going to go get an energy drink. I won't make it without one."

Jessie sang-song, "You do that. I'll just be right here."

I felt something poking at my neck, and a gentle voice saying, "Easy, big boy. Easy. Just relax. Gonna make one tiny tweak in here but I have to get just the right spot."

I did my best to relax, and in the post orgasm haze, it was pretty easy to go limp. Which made it all the more shocking when I saw text in front of my vision.

[Rocky, I need you to remain calm. I am making an adjustment to several things that should have already been fixed, but weren't. I made it so that you got an upgraded experimental kit. You're needed somewhere else and you will be picked up later. I can't give you any details right now, there's not enough time. You can experiment later but for now think of the clock in your vision being hidden. Good luck.]

Well that was... interesting. I wasn't exactly thrilled to have someone poking around in my head or anything. But my erection finally started to flag. And whether you think that I'm just a sex machine or not, I was starting to get just a little sore and chafed from the medi-cle being on me for over six hours.

When my cock finally went limp, I wanted to groan in relief. Not that I could, not with the medi-cle down my throat still. I did, however, think about making the clock hidden. And it just flicked out of existence.

"There we go. And proof that it worked, he's already going down."

Doc-Mandy must have walked back into the room because she squealed, "He's fixed? Totally? Did you break him?"

Jessie laughed. "I fixed what I could. See this here? This bit was one micron off, which bridged the gap between his visual cortex and the internal system clock. Not exactly sure we could replicate that bug if we tried. And this right here, during installation it looks like something scratched the circuitry enough that it bridged this gap which was flooding his endocrine system with the 'keep going' hormone cocktail we developed."

Doc-Mandy made a 'hmmm' sound. "Two mistakes on one board. I don't like that."

Jessie said, "Eh, more like one and a half. You go over those logs and I'll bet you dildoes to donuts that someone changed the manipulator pads either right before his operation and did a bad job and caught it during post op inspection, or did a post op on him and changed the pads out because they'd gotten too thin. That's the scratch. The mistake in production is only a micron, and it was in the densest part of the board. Besides, on the new ones this pathway is totally different. We changed it for other reasons, but even if this were a known issue, it's already on its way out. Nothing to fix, assuming the boards check out."

Doc-Mandy said, "Well Rocky? You still see that clock?"

I shook my head.

Jessie said, "Again, I'll bet you dildoes to donuts it was a total system clock, not a mission clock or anything like that."

Doc-Mandy said, "So what you're saying is that we should basically see him reverting to expected parameters?"

Jessie drew this 'eeeeeeeh' sound out. "Not a bio-doc, so I'd be speaking out of my field. Stuff may be permanent. May be toned down after time. May go way down. Gonna need to make sure that whatever you tell the client, you tell them that this one's getting a double-warranty. He may need to come in for some hardware work or firmware patches. Maybe send his pod out with a double-dose of all the chems. It can keep him functional for a while until he comes in for a check up."

Doc-Mandy hummed, and then said, "So I guess the only real worry that I have right now is whether you just shut his dick off totally."

Jessie snorted, and then moved around. I felt a hand on my lower belly, playing through the soft fur there. "I want to tug your bindings loose, pull you off that thing, and then deep throat your monster cock while you look down at me and pull my ears."

And just like that, I started to fill out again.

"See? Perfectly responsive."

Doc-Mandy just laughed. "And you say that I'm mean." She started to say something else, when her com chirped at her. "Dr. Tenning. .... But you said. ... Yes I kno... But he. ... Dammit, Rob, this wasn't the deal! ... Fine. ... Fine. ... Yes, I'll be there. Just stall her on full receipt. ... I can't fucking explain it now, you just cut me off at the fucking hips, Rob. ... Yes, fine. Whatever, just give me ten minutes on him and to the damn wire on the pod. ... Do you want words or do you want action, Rob, this is what happens when you promise a doctor time and then yank it away!"

Doc-Mandy made a pretty creditable growl for a mouse. "Get Rocky to the closest shower and get him presentable. It seems that our client has arrived early and is doing a full inspection, and wouldn't you know, the only thing missing is the one she decides she wants to see."

Jessie made an 'awww' sound as they started wheeling me away. "Hey, I pulled your tail out of the fire, I want holo! Of this, and the initial exam!"