Runaway: Chapter 2: Testing...
#2 of Runaway:
Disclaimer: This story deals with adult themes, and themes that may not be suitable for anyone to read. You have been warned. Continuance to read this document, acknowledges that you are allowed to read this document in your place of orign, that you are of legal age to read it, and that you take responsibility for having read this document. The author is therefore in no way liable for any damages, in any way shape or form. * * *
Runaway: Part 2 of a series
- * * Chapter 2: Testing... I picked up my backpack, all that I owned in the world that I wouldn't part with; and which contained above all my most prized posessions. I was lead barely two doors down into a room which looked much like the safety deposit box rooms look in a bank. The wals had row upon row of two foot by two foot doorways, each with a thumprint biometric lock on the front and a small recessed handle. Director Peterson reached to an electronic pad, and picked it up from its hangings, no doubt some kind of logging device. He tapped at the screen a couple times, bringing up a new inventory list. When he did so, one of the doors opened with a barely audible click, and swung fully open, a slide-away countertop slid out of the wall. "Let's see," he commented, as he entered personal information of myself, while I started pulling out my items to be logged. I first pulled out my laptop, an old model, but one I was proud enough to own as it had a very accurate pen interface for doing professional artwork with. "One laptop, high-grade artist model." he commented as he entered the information, perhaps by voice identification. He looked at me before as I slid it into the locker. "Did you study artwork?" I swallowed as I answered, "Yes; until I couldn't afford it anymore." I paused and pulled the laptop out, and resumed it from sleep, bringing up one of my better abstracy pieces. For the first time since meeting him, I saw him smile as he looked over the details of the piece. After a moment, I shut it off and slit it into the locker fully onto the top shelf inside. "Very nice. We will be sure to take note of such skills during your testing." He took notes, dictating every item into the inventory system. In went my only paper sketchbook, a rare item to have considering the cost of paper; my very long-collected pencil and pen set, and my maintenance kit. The maintenance kit contained the basic supplies needed to maintain my equipment, as well as my hygene. Slightly embarassed at having the last vestiges of my personal life seen, I pulled out my small plush of a koala, given me by a good friend from many years ago shortly before she died. Director Peterson didn't seem to find any need to be unprofessional as he logged the item. Finally my backpack was logged away and put into the locker. The door was closed and he instructed me to press my thumb to the reader for locking. "All done. Your items will stay in there, and be returned to you once we're done testing if you do not pass. Otherwise, the whole locker module will be loaded onto the ship that takes you offworld." He hung the data input device back onto its place, and the counter slid back into the wall. I felt secure enough about my items, and followed him out. He lead me much further into the facility, eventually past a block of office cubicles, and I almost had to stop and stare, because it was not what I expected at all. Most cubicles like this were populated by humans. Human subtypes, in this case animalkin, filled most of the desk space. I couldn't count how many different subtypes were there, but what I saw was a lovely blend of hardworking individuals. This company seemed to have a much easier time headhunting and employing our fur-skinned bretheren. Most had a difficult time with such employment. Animalkin had different eating habits, different sleeping habits, and most importantly fur to clean up. They all have to shed their winter coats at some time, and it was a messy task which many companies just did not want to have to shell out extra for. I tried to take in details, but the only ones I could see enough of, apart from heads and ears of the rest; was a small group of co-workers seemingly taking a short break from whatever their respective jobs were. A blue-furred vixen, with perfect ample curves, breasts and rump barely contained in the fabric she wore, her bushy tail ending in an ice-blue tip. Her voice was airy, like the stuff dreams should be made of. To her right was a male dolphin, sleek skinned, though a much lighter shade than the lawyer, with piercing eyes, almost a deep emerald green; unusual on their kind, but very attractive. His hands were just as smooth, and he had a very athletic build, slender, intelligent looking. He'd look the part of a geek if he had glasses on; but if he needed corrective lenses of any kind, he wore contacts. His voice contained the remnant clicks and whistles from his kinsfolk; but was almost rhythmic, poetic from what I could tell in my brief contact into the conversation. To her left, who I only got to see from behind was a mostly white furred person; who I guessed to be a female polar bear. My suspicions were confirmed when all three turned to look at me briefly as I was lead ominously toward the medical ward. Her face was pleasant, and her body I wished I could have seen more. Her ample form, taller than the other two, and looking to carry much more padding seemed so soft and snuggly that one could get lost in just by looking at her. My mind was running wild by the time I lost sight, in the mere seconds of turning my head to see them, before their view was blocked by the archway leading into the next section of the office complex, I was quite aroused. I considered myself bi-sexual, but had not really practiced such at all. My life was too dull at the time, spending so much time at studying; and with the tragedy of my one almost lover's untimely death, kept me from trying much at all. As close as I had come was during nude sketches in art class, when someone professional or not would pose infront of us to be rendered in the medium of the day. Personally, I preferred graphite, as it allowed for such subtle tones easilly. I could feel my mind being taken back to the one day we had an animalkin posing infront of us; but was quickly snapped to reality as we turned into a room. Equally as sparse as any other room in this place, the first of my testing chambers as I might think of them in hindsight later, was plain. No distraction possible not even a shadow in the corner of the room due to clever lighting. I sat at one end of the table facing the door and waited. The director simply bade me to wait until my first tester came in, and to follow their direction. He closed the door and left. The room was almost uncomfortably silent as I waited. I felt odd waiting for so long, my sense of time quickly diminishing as what I thought at least ten minutes or so had gone by, before a woman in simple dress, jeans and a simple blouse came in. She set down two electronic panels, one infront of me, and the other infront of her. "I'm Liz, and I'm here to administer your cognitive tests. This is much like your standardized testing, IQ, and concentration tests all rolled into one. We use a much more advanced electronic method, however, that can complete these in much shorter time." She came over to me, and pulled out a couple of electrodes from the terminal infront of me, and wrapping the elastic band to which they were attatched about my head positioned them; then plugged them into the terminal. Almost instantly it flickered to life, and gave all manner of messages about calibration, detection of new user and the like, before entering a wait period. Calmly and with much practiced ease, she booted her panel, and instructed me to simply watch the monitor infront of me. Images from the entire history, and encyclopedia flickered in almost subliminally rapid succession on the screen while I watched. The electrodes easilly reading whatever it was they were meant to. As I watched I saw images that were obscene, turning my stomache, to those of very pleasing, and very arousing at times; persons, and animalkin. I could only guess after the testing was completed that they were possibly testing my reactions to the images purely to either see how well I might fit in with the company's hiring practices, or of their product line. After that was done, she took me through the more standardized testing and IQ tests, asking me question after question, and jotting down the answers. Having me answer questions that were visual with the touch screen infront of me. It took what seemed like a couple hours, and my mind was starting to tire about the time we finished. She disconnected the machines, powered them down, and told me to wait for the nurse for my physical, then left. This wait didn't take as long as I might have wanted, my mind heavy from the workout, which I learned was three hours long. What came in, snapped me to immediate attention however. Lisa was the name on the nametag, which I seemed to stare at immediately, but only for the impressive breasts she had. Lisa was a five foot even tall, looking to weight ninety kilograms; completely black furred lamb. Her bright crystal blue eyes peered out from her almost skimpilly tight nurses outfit, complete with old-school hat. She was slender, and had the curves that would take the resistance from any male, and perhaps many females away in a heartbeat. She beckoned me quietly seeing my almost mindless state, in some small part from the testing, but much more so from momentary hormone and sense overload. The examination room was a couple doors down the hall, this area of the office much more quiet than the rest as we drew further from the bustle of the main room. Inside was what seemed to be a combination between an operating theater and a standard physical checkup room. I stepped in and heard her close the door and slide a latch that either locked the door or at least changed an indicator outside to 'occupied'. "Undress and hang your clothing on the pegs, while I get the necessary supplies out. Then stand on the scales, we'll do your weight and height first." she said. Her voice was sultory, if very professional. She probably liked her job, getting to see her patients completely naked and under her control to tease with her form and touch. Little did I know how much. I complied with her requests and fairly quickly, my height, weight, blood pressure, and all the standard items in a general physical had been administered. How I managed to keep from getting an erection from all the touches was likely due to the chill in the air. She then took a blood sample, and sent it off to the lab, as well as a urine sample. She stuck my arm with a series of tiny scratch needles, performing a full panel of allergy testing; to which a couple of them responded with little bumps. She made calm notes of everything as she took every detail of me down. She had me stand in one of the corners, where a small cubby stood like a telephone booth, and after a few loud moments of humming had a complete series of x-ray images downloaded into the computer file that was rapidly filling with my physical data. I finally had to ask while she had me on the table again, and was checking my skin for ever, in minute detail. "What are you looking for, and how am I doing so far?" In her calm voice she responded, "Scar tissues. From former drug use, surgery, tattoo application and or removal. It's all standard proceedure for our company. See we don't simply trust what we get from the background computers; but we have our reasons." She kept poking my skin all over, her hand touching starting to arouse me a little more and I tried to keep my mind from roaming too much. "You have to remember that if we do need to apply and genetic repair or modification for your assignment, it's best to know what we're getting into. Scars don't take to modification to well, and prior surgeries may leave metal staples, pins, and other items behind which would need to be removed first." It all made sense, but her touching was getting my mind wandering even more. Finally she stopped, and I blissfully managed to get my mind off her seemingly caresses as she checked me from every angle. However, it was much too late for my arousal, my erect penis standing its full if thin eight inches staight into the cold air. She slid away from me on the wheeled chair, picked up something, and brought it to me. Without even telling me what she was doing, I heard the click of a snap top, and a barely warmed tube was lubricated and slipped down my cock, immediately beginning to vibrate and suckle. Just as I was opening my eyes she smiled and commented in her cool, almost tormentous tone, "Sperm sample." My shock slowed things down, and if my cock wasn't receiving constant stimulation from the collection tube, which ran down into the table to where I couldn't see. She got up and smiled, "I think you're the type who might need help, so we'll do the other part of the exam at the same time." I had no clue what she had in mind, but she strapped my chest and my wrists down, brought out stirrups out of the chair, and strapped my legs to them in a motion that was so quick and practiced that I hadn't a moment to think, or respond. My ass now at the edge of the table, and pulled partly open I shudder to think what she was going to do. I feld the slick warmpth press against my rear as she gently caressed my tight pucked with her fingers, slowly teasing me to relax, to open to their touch. It took a while to happen, with the slowly growing suction on my cock and her strange touch. I'd never been manipulated likethis before and it took a little bit to get used to the stimulations. It seemed to take forever for her first finger to finally slip into my rear, teasing and wriggling about as she rubbed, almost purring to me in enjoyment. In and out the finger went while the tube about my cock continued to hum and suck; trying to fill its container somewhere. She kept at it slowly, working my rear until a second finger slid next to the first, and she rubbed them in and out, until finally her fingerips found what they were searching to examine and probe, my prostate. I jerked hard against the restraints, wanting to buck against the tube, and her fingers. She tapped her soft fingertips against my prostate for a while, kneading it; until I jerked, my ballsack clenched and my overstimulated testes released my cum to the tube. She rubbed a few more times while I blew my load into the tube, a while line visible as it was sucked down the tube into the collection container. She smiled but I didn't see, panting hard and writhing against the restraints and her fingers. She had me completely under her control. Even after my orgasm subsided, she contined to probe my tender rear, teasing my prostate, and with every tap my starting to ache balls produced even more cum into the tube. She played me like a violinist might pluck strings of a violin, my body responding with moans and more painful cum as she literally bled my cock and balls dry. Once I was only able to produce a thin watery liquid instead of cum she stopped, and slipped her fingers out of my rear. I cried out in shock when she promptly inserted a speculum into my rear. The metal surface smooth, but shockingly cold. Before my rear could contract and tense up from the cold she spread me wider than her fingers had. My rear was very sore now, not just from her twenty minute probing and draining of my body, but the sudden stretching of the speculum as she prepared to give me a very deep examination. She slid the warm lit tip of a scope up into me, and I could feel it slip and slither its way deep inside me, teasing my post-orgasm hypersensitive body, keeping me painfully fully aroused. It seemed forever before she pulled the device from me, but left the speculum spreading my ass in place. Finally she asked me a question that threw my already roller-coaster mind for yet another loop. "Tell me..." her voice seductively trailed off. "What's your favorite animal?" I wanted to say sheep, but I couldn't think of anything but for the truth, as the first animal that came to mind was the one that always did. The reaction I had was odd, both to me and to her as I suddenly relaxed, the mental image coming to mind even more clearly than it ever had. The associated scent always relaxed me when I smelt it for real, and I was imagining it now. The black fur, white spots, and white tipped tail. The round face, and black round eyes that looked with a kind of pure innocence. "Spotted skunk." I somehow managed to reply, my voice a little raspy from my heavy breathing. She giggled and probably smiled even before. "Well you've passed the frist test. However we need to do an endurance test, and nothing tests enduance like sex." I couldn't believe my ears. I felt like I had run a marathon and she wanted to test me even more? I felt her release the speculum, before maneuvering the table back into a more relaxed position, however I remained strapped to the table, and the suction was turned up a little on the collecting tube. I shuddered and coulnd't even begin to think how much more I could take of this; but I was no where near prepared for what happened next. Instead of her fingers, I felt something a bit thicker, and harder start to press against my rear. It kept pressing, not rubbing about at all, but felt slick, or perhaps that was my mind playing tricks from my already well lubed rear. Starting as thick as the speculum had me stretched, was a long and tapering smooth dildo, attatched to motors under the table. She got up and left the room, having set the thing on autopilot, every sensor hidden in the surface of the table taking in notes, getting warmer and making me relax. I yelled in the pressure and pain, but almost wonderful stretching sensation as the dildo finally worked past my tight anal sphincter, and slid effortlessly from its lubricated suface deep into my rear. It seemed to slip in slowly forever, inch after inch penetrating my abused anus. Stretching me sowly even more until it paused. I shuddered, feeling already on edge, my balls screaming as they tried to prepare more semen and sperm for the collection tube. Then as if a second part of the program had iniated, the dildo started withdrawing, then pushing back in, slow, rhythmic thrusts; finding its pace. Each time it thrust in, it pushed imperceptively deeper to my wrought body. I writhed and convulsed under the almost tortorous sex. The dildo picked up speed over time as well, and I felt myself moaning, swetting profusely and panting hard, straining at the restraints about me to thrust, to get this over with, to orgasm and release even more of my reproductive juice into the tube. Finally I managed somehow to wriggle into a position such that the dildo scraped along my prostate and I orgasmed on the spot. I jerked my hips, making the straps creak under the pressure, as I arched, and screamed at the top of my lungs, hoping momentarilly that the room was soundproofed. The dildo slowed as I orgasmed, pushing just a bit deeper. Little did I know that the machine was taking every measurement it could, knowing exactly how deep it had gained, how fast of thrusting I had survived, and how long before my orgasm. I didn't have a lot of time to recouperate, before it started up again. I felt light headed, as it began to thrust in my poor rear, feeling tingly tender like a bruise that has started to heal. I groaned hard, as it pushed deeper, then faster and faster, it moved itself to knead my prostate with each movement as I could no longer move. My breath came through in rasps as the device pleasantly enough raped my rear, filling me and withdrawing the same way it came, slick warm. It started to vibrate. It started to fill me even faster. Then I felt something I never through possible. As if the machine had the smarts, or some remote signal, it grew into a plug, like the knot of a canine, lodging itself into my rear as it grew to some size I would never know, and locked tight. I pulsed my last drops of seed in my thrird orgasm, and before I passed out felt it pulse and flood my rear with some thick secretion, some simulation of cum pouring and filling my bowels with warmpth. I felt cradled and relaxed as it did so, and passed out from the sheer effort of the ordeal.