Chapter 5: Initial Inspections
The sterile hum of the Harvest Facility’s main chamber seemed to pulse in rhythm with the athletes’ racing hearts, the bright overhead lights casting harsh shadows across their partially exposed bodies. Strapped to the inclined examination tables, Jake, Ryan, Tyler, Alex, and Brad lay in a semi-circle, affording each a view of the others’ predicament. Their shirts had been torn away, leaving their torsos bare and glistening under a thin sheen of sweat, muscles taut from the restraints and the lingering effects of the arousal injections. Jeans and shorts hung low around their ankles, boxers or briefs still clinging to their hips, but doing little to conceal the insistent bulges beneath. The air was thick with a mix of antiseptic and the musky scent of male arousal, the serum working its insidious magic, keeping their cocks semi-erect and their balls achingly full.
Dr Harlan paced slowly between the tables, his lab coat swishing softly, clipboard in hand as he jotted notes. His eyes lingered appreciatively on each athlete, drinking in the sight of their peak physiques: Jake’s broad, powerful chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, nipples erect from the cool air; Ryan’s lean, swimmer’s build, every muscle defined like a classical statue; Tyler’s compact, barrel-like torso, veins threading across his arms and pecs; Alex’s lithe, agile form, abs etched in sharp relief; Brad’s towering frame, his ladder of abdominals leading down to that deep V-cut that promised so much more. “Gentlemen,” Harlan said, his voice smooth and laced with anticipation, “it’s time for your initial inspections. We need to assess your baseline potential: measurements, responsiveness, estimated yields. Think of it as a thorough physical, but with a focus on your most… productive assets.”
Victor and the two other handlers, both burly, their black uniforms stretched over impressive builds of their own, moved in with practised efficiency. They carried trays laden with tools: measuring tapes, calipers, probes, and small vials of lubricant that shimmered under the lights. The athletes strained against their bonds, wrists and ankles secured by padded cuffs that allowed just enough wiggle room to heighten their frustration. “You can’t do this,” Jake growled, his blue eyes flashing defiance, but his voice cracked slightly as Victor approached him first, gloved hands reaching for the waistband of his boxers. Jake’s thick cock twitched in anticipation, the fabric already damp with pre-cum, his balls feeling heavier than ever, swollen with the forced production from the injection.
With a swift tug, Victor peeled the boxers down, exposing Jake fully. The quarterback’s endowment sprang free, a robust shaft that was thick and sturdy, with a slight upward curve that made it look even more imposing. The skin was smooth and taut, flushed a deep pink along its length, with a network of subtle veins pulsing just beneath the surface, giving it a textured, virile appearance. The head was broad and helmet-shaped, the slit already weeping a clear bead of pre-cum, and the whole thing bobbed heavily in the open air, half-hard from the serum but swelling quickly under the exposure. His balls hung low and full, larger than average, churning subtly with the enhanced fertility. Jake’s face burned with humiliation, his straight mind reeling at being bared like this in front of strangers, and his friends. “Fuck you,” he spat, but his cock betrayed him, hardening further under the scrutiny, inching towards full erection as the cool air kissed his skin.
Harlan stepped closer, his fingers cool as they wrapped around Jake’s shaft, measuring its girth with a caliper. “Impressive circumference: five and a half inches around at the base. Length… let’s see.” He stretched a tape along the top, from pubic bone to tip, as Jake’s cock stiffened involuntarily to its full seven inches. “Seven point two. Excellent. And these testicles…” Harlan cupped Jake’s balls gently, rolling them in his palm, feeling their weight and fullness. “Swollen already, primed for high output. We’ll expect multiple loads per session from you, quarterback.” Jake groaned, a mix of rage and unwanted pleasure, his abs contracting as another bead of pre-cum welled at the slit. The touch was clinical yet teasing, Harlan’s thumb brushing the underside just enough to make Jake’s hips buck slightly against the straps.
Across from him, Ryan watched in horrified fascination, his own arousal building as Victor moved to him next. The swimmer’s chinos and briefs were yanked down in one motion, revealing his long, elegantly proportioned cock: a sleek shaft with a gentle taper from base to tip, the skin a warm olive tone that matched his tanned body, adorned with a prominent central vein that throbbed visibly along its length. The head was neatly circumcised, flared slightly like a mushroom cap, with a smooth, glossy surface that gleamed under the lights, already slick with arousal. It stood straight and proud, swelling from the exposure. His balls were tight and full, drawn up slightly from the tension, but heavy with the serum’s effects. “Don’t touch me,” Ryan hissed, his green eyes wide, but Harlan was already there, calipers in hand. “Length: eight point five inches erect. Girth: five inches. A swimmer’s efficiency: your endurance will serve you well here.” Harlan’s fingers probed Ryan’s shaft, stroking lightly to gauge responsiveness, making it throb and harden fully. Then, to his balls, squeezing gently. “Full reservoirs. We’ll drain them repeatedly, measure the volume each time.” Ryan’s lean body arched, a soft moan escaping despite himself, his pecs flexing as the teasing touch sent sparks through him. Straight conquests flashed in his mind: women he’d taken with that length, but now, exposed and probed, it felt like a twisted violation, his nuts aching with overproduction.
Tyler roared as his turn came, his grey tank top already shredded earlier, but now his shorts and briefs were stripped away, unleashing his meaty cock. It was a brutish specimen, thick and girthy from root to tip, with a rugged texture from the web of raised veins that criss-crossed its surface, giving it a powerful, almost aggressive look. The skin was darker at the base, fading to a ruddy hue towards the blunt, rounded head, which was partially hooded by foreskin even as it swelled, the slit parting slightly to reveal a hint of moisture. His balls were massive, hanging low like ripe fruit, swollen to the point of tenderness from the injection. “Get your hands off!” Tyler bellowed, his barrel chest heaving, arms straining the cuffs until veins popped across his biceps. Harlan ignored him, wrapping the tape around the base. “Girth: six inches: exceptional thickness. Length: six point seven. A wrestler’s power: your loads will be dense, viscous.” He teased the shaft with a lubricated finger, circling the head, making Tyler’s cock pulse and leak profusely. Then, cupping the balls, feeling their heft. “These are producers. We’ll milk you hard, extract every drop.” Tyler’s body betrayed him, hips thrusting up involuntarily, a grunt of frustration mixing with arousal, his eight-pack abs rippling as the fullness in his nuts demanded release.
Alex was next, his lithe form trembling as his jeans and boxers were pulled down, exposing his sleek cock: a gracefully curved shaft that bent upwards in a gentle arc, the skin silky and pale, with fine veins tracing delicate patterns along its length like subtle rivers. The head was tapered and pointed, circumcised cleanly, with a sensitive ridge that flushed pink as it hardened, the whole thing quivering slightly from the cool air. His balls were neat and full, tucked close but swelling under the serum’s influence. “Please… no,” Alex whispered, hazel eyes pleading, but Harlan’s touch was inexorable. “Curve noted: adds to stimulation potential. Length: six point one. Girth: four point seven.” He stroked along the curve, thumbing the frenulum, watching it harden and throb. “Responsive. Your speed on the track translates to quick recoveries between extractions.” Probing the balls, Harlan squeezed lightly. “Building nicely. We’ll tease you to the edge, harvest multiple times.” Alex whimpered, his lean abs contracting, the erotic humiliation washing over him, his straight identity cracking as his cock stood proud, balls throbbing with unnatural fullness.
Finally, Brad, the giant. His basketball shorts and boxers were removed with effort, revealing his substantial cock: a long, veiny powerhouse with a straight, commanding presence, the skin stretched tight over pronounced ridges of veins that bulged like cords, giving it a textured grip. The head was large and bulbous, flared wide with a deep purple tint when aroused, the slit wide and inviting, already drooling pre-cum. His balls were enormous, hanging heavy and full, churning visibly with the enhanced production. “Holy shit,” one handler muttered, but Harlan remained composed. “Length: nine point six. Girth: six point five: remarkable. Your size will yield volumes.” He needed both hands to measure, stroking firmly to bring it to full mast, making Brad groan deeply. “And these testicles… extraordinary capacity.” Cupping them, he rolled the heavy orbs, feeling the weight. “We’ll need larger collection vessels for you.” Brad’s grey eyes darkened, his massive frame straining the table, but his cock betrayed him, pulsing hard, pre-cum dripping steadily, balls aching with overfilled pressure.
Throughout the inspections, the handlers noted everything: heart rates spiking on monitors, pre-cum samples collected in vials, probes inserted briefly to check prostate health, each touch teasing erections to their limits without granting release. The athletes’ bodies were a symphony of arousal: cocks throbbing in unison, balls full and tender, muscles flexing in futile resistance. Jake caught Ryan’s eye, both flushed and hard, the shared vulnerability adding a layer of erotic tension. Tyler grunted as a handler’s finger circled his head again, Alex moaned softly, Brad’s substantial length bobbing with each heartbeat.
Harlan stepped back, satisfied. “Baselines established. Potential yields: high across the board. Tomorrow, the machines. But for now, rest with your thoughts, and your arousals.” He signalled the handlers to apply cooling gels to their cocks, a temporary relief that only heightened the tease, leaving them hard and wanting. The lights dimmed slightly, but the hum of the facility persisted, a promise of the milkings to come. Stripped fully naked now, their impressive bodies probed and measured, the straight athletes lay exposed, cocks stirring with forced life, balls fuller than ever, the harvest’s first phase complete. The air crackled with unspoken desire, their worlds tilting towards submission, one teasing touch at a time.
