"Acclimation phase has ended" called out Trippy, the cheerful shipwide assistant. "Initiating training phase."
Five days away from earth. Three weeks until the Argyle landed on Bengara. Eight weeks until the Bengaran males entered their next cycle of fertility. Four years until Janton finished his tour of duty and was rewarded with a life of luxury and leisure at the human colony on Bengara's outer moon.
It would be almost like Earth. An Earth with hope for the future.
Training was explained in the orientation packet that Janton skimmed and tossed aside before committing to the mission. This was one of the only ways off of a dying planet, after all. He didn't need to concern himself too much with details.
For five days, he and the other nineteen recruits in Pod C were allowed to socialize normally. They ate meals together. They played games and talked about who, if anyone, they were leaving behind. They talked about the human colony and the dream of retirement in just four years. They didn't know how many pods there were or how big the ship was. They didn't talk much about the mission.
They couldn't talk about how horny they all were. Of course, they didn't know about the low dose of aphrodisiacs in their morning eggs and afternoon salads. But they know that Trippy was always watching - in the shower, in bed, in the observation deck. No sex. No self-pleasure. Violators were sent back to Earth, no exceptions.
Until now. Training phase was designed to prepare them for their mission on Bengara.
Trippy was waiting on the bathroom mirror screen when Janton finished his morning shower. He made a big animated show of spinning a wheel. "Janton! Today, you will be the hunted. You have five minutes to prepare."
Janton figured this would happen. At 5'5" and 130 pounds, he was one of the smallest men aboard. Easy prey for the first day of training. His friends back home were afraid that he would never survive four years on Bengara. Bengaran men experienced a surge of hormones three times a year that gave them an urge -- to fuck anything or anyone they could find, 24 hours a day. The hormones were getting stronger every time, something to do with the phases of the moons or the UV rays from their sun.
Janton and his crewmates were here to provide "relief" to the men of Bengara, on demand. And this training phase would prepare them - or weed them out.
He didn't know how many of the men from yesterday's dinner table Trippy had assigned the role of hunter, but he would soon find out. Janton walked down to the lounge and found the couch replaced by a pair of slings. Trippy counted down to zero and a large, furry man grabbed Janton from behind, grinding an enormous erection into his covered rear. Before he could even speak, a blindfold blocked out his vision and he was pulled down to his knees. Another man fell to his knees a few inches away and Janton wondered who else was being hunted.
Seven inches of pulsing, warm, desperate cock probed Janton's lips and he welcomed it inside. The man thrusted deep and came quickly, his cock replaced by another. Nearby, Janton heard thrusting from the direction of the sling and a man begging, sobbing for mercy. A third man slapped Janton hard with his cock, over and over, before wetting it deep in his throat, getting it slick from his gags. The thrusting pace from the sling changed. Janton was apparently now a fluffer. His cock strained in his uniform - still untouched - and he was more terrified and excited than he had been before in his life.
