Rod Hardy of the Galactic Guard Book 1: Probed By The Malevolent Medical Machine
by Kirk McCorkle
MM bd Sci-Fi military medical
This is a work of erotic fiction. All participants are fictional, and are over eighteen years of age. If reading erotic fiction about adult male participants that involves sex, sexual servitude, bondage, and domination is illegal wherever you are, don't read any further. Turn yourself in to the appropriate authorities. I welcome your feedback, and hope you enjoy the story.
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"Gosh," said Cadet Rod Hardy of the Galactic Guard, "That sure is a big cock."
Brock Gomez waved his cock in the air and said with a grin, "Sure is. And Cadet Smith here is going to see if he can fit it in his mouth right about now."
Two of Brock's goons had Smith pinned up against a bulkhead next to the urinals, and another one was standing guard at the door. All three of them looked like they could handle themselves, and Brock was no slouch either after all that zero-g wrestling practice. Rod sealed up the fly of his uniform pants and held his hands under the sanitizer rays for a second. "It doesn't seem like he's looking forward to it, Gomez," he said. "Which is a shame."
Cadet Brock Gomez paused, cock in hand. "Why's that?"
"Well, some people would really appreciate a cock like that." Rod turned, keeping his hands away from his sides and a big smile on his face. "I mean, some folks would do just about anything to get a shot at sucking on that monster."
"You're serious," Brock said.
"Sure thing. Why get a sloppy, whiny blowjob from an amateur when I'm over here dying to get my mouth on that?" Rod turned on the charm that had gotten him into and out of so many situations back in New New Amsterdam. "I mean, look at it, that thing has its own gravity well."
"If Smith didn't want to pay up, he shouldn't have bet. Zero-G wrestling matches can be unpredictable." Brock stroked Smith's cheek. "I just love breaking in virgins."
"You really want teeth marks all over your cock? You know he's going to gag on it." No matter how Tom sized up the situation, there was no way he and Smith would be able to take on Brock and his thugs without sustaining considerable damage. "And I'm over here longing to slobber all over it."
Brock eyed Hardy warily. "I don't trust you. We get to tie you up. And you do Beals here too."
"Sure, he's a stud. Just let Smith here go and I'm all over the both of you." Rod nodded to Cadet Smith, who started edging towards the door.
"Not so fast," Brock said. "Smith stays until we're done. I don't want any interruptions."
Rod turned to Smith. "Cadet, I'm ordering you to get out of here. Go back to your quarters and if you tell anyone what's going on I will hound you to the edge of the galaxy. Got it?" Rod turned his face away from Brock and winked at Smith. Smith looked puzzled. Rod tried to convey with his expression that Smith should make a beeline for the commander's office as fast as he could sprint and get back here with help on the double. He wasn't entirely sure he had been successful.
"Sure, Hardy, okay. Thanks!" The thugs let him go, and Smith sidled past the guard at the door and was gone.
"Well, you Spavian slime weasel? Get sucking!" Gomez laughed, and his goons joined in as Rod dropped to his knees in front of the solidly-built wrestler.
"This thing is huge. And look at these balls." Rod reached out and stroked the rigid shaft of the bully's hard cock, hoping he could stall him for time.
"No hands, Cadet. Beals, tie his hands behind his back," Brock said.
The big thug who'd been on Smith's left arm took his belt off, looped it around Rod's wrists a couple of times and cinched it tight, just like they'd been taught in their takedown classes. Rod mentally gave him an A as he tried in vain to reach the buckle.
"Well, all right," Brock said. "Let's go." He grabbed Rod's head and stuffed his cock into Rod's waiting mouth.
It was a really nice cock. The head was big, with a flare like the fins on a Galactic Security Cutter. Rod worked his tongue over the veined shaft.
Rod hadn't been kidding, he'd admired Brock's awesome cock since he'd seen it in the showers their first day here. But boot camp wasn't the place to play, so he'd focused on getting to be the best damned spaceman he could be. But now that it was for a good cause, what the hey.
"Oh, yeah, take my cock. You suck like an Ursan remora. Fuck, Beals, you gotta try this mouth." Brock was grabbing Rod's head, fingers digging into scalp as he tried to force more of his cock into Rod's mouth.
Rod concentrated on opening his throat without gagging while the big cock head battered at his tonsils. He inhaled deeply, catching the intoxicating scent of Brock's pubes, and then went down on Brock's cock as hard as he could. He felt it slip past all resistance and enter deep into him. Brock thrust into him triumphantly, grunting, using the young cadet like a sex toy.
Rod called on his training to suppress his instinctive panic at running out of air. He tried to focus on his own cock, hard in his uniform pants, echoing every thrust of Brock's cock with a pulse of its own.
He got in a gasp of air before the massive cock was down his throat again, and then Brock was holding Rod's face right up to his crotch, his cock deep down Rod's throat as his cock spurted pulse after pulse of cum down the cadet's eager throat.
He let the young cadet off his cock slowly, and then wiped the cum and spit that were left on his cock all over Rod's face. Rod licked his lips and smiled.
What was taking Smith so long, anyway?
"So, Beals, you want a shot at this? He sucks like an airlock." Brock tucked his cock away and sealed the front of his uniform pants.
"Nah, he likes it too much. It's creepy." Beals towered over everyone normally, so now that Rod was on his knees he seemed enormous. Perseans grew big.
"You want him to enjoy it less, we can do that." Brock stepped around behind Rod. "Go ahead, Beals, put your cock in him."
Beals shrugged, unsealed his pants seam, and pulled out a good-sized semi-hard schlong. Rod took the head in his mouth and it started to harden immediately. Just then, he felt Brock land a massive swat on his right ass cheek.
The cock popped out of Rod's mouth. "Hey, what in the plane of the ecliptic..."
Brock laughed. "That's so you don't enjoy it. Keep sucking, Earthling."
He spanked Rod's ass hard while Rod sucked at his lackey's cock. Rod tried to keep his mind on sucking off the big thug, but the explosions of pain as Brock smacked his ass kept making him lose his concentration. He was sputtering and drooling over Beals's cock like an amateur, almost choking on it.
"Yeah, that's good," Beals said. "He doesn't like that."
"Yeah? How much you want to bet his cock is hard?" Brock said, laying a tremendous backhand blow across Rod's ass.
"I don't bet with you, you always win. Oh, man, I'm gonna blow my load into this fucker," Beals said. He started thrusting hard into Rod's face as Brock unleashed a barrage of blows on Rod's defenseless ass. Beals spasmed a couple of times, and then Rod could taste the young thug's cum as it jetted out of his cock and flowed warm all over his tongue.
Beals held Rod on his cock for a few seconds, then let him go. Rod felt Brock untying his arms.
"All right, let's get out of here," Brock said. "You give a good blowjob, Hardy."
The sound of his laughter trailed behind as Brock and his goons left the restroom.
Rod got up, rubbing his wrists. He was alone in the restroom again. He shrugged, went into a stall, pulled down his pants and jacked off furiously, rubbing the cum and stench of both guys he'd just sucked off all over his face.
He came when he realized that since the Galactic Guard frowned at sex between cadets he'd now given Brock leverage over him, which would probably mean he'd be blowing Brock and his thugs a lot from now on.
He set the toilet to recycle, then cleaned up as best he could at the sink. Rod left the restroom trying to look like any other cadet at the Galactic Guard Academy.
It was still just 1545, time to get to chow. Rod thought he'd look up Smith and find out what had happened to the rescue he'd thought was coming, but his communicator chimed in his ear.
"Cadet Rod Hardy, please report to Captain Stern immediately," said the deep, soothing voice in his ear. It was one of the few soothing voices that cadets heard during their initial training, which was disturbing as it almost always meant very bad news. Rod did an about face and made a beeline for his CO's office. After he was up to speed he checked on his minimap and verified the way to the command building, then he called Neil.
"Neil, you're a sight for sore eyes," he said when the slim young Antarean answered. "In case these are my last moments alive, I just wanted to tell you that I always loved you. Please take care of my iguanafish for me."
"You don't have an iguanafish," Neil said. He looked busy and annoyed. "What's this about?"
"I'm being called down to Captain Stern's office posthaste. I really might be washing out, and in case you never see me again, thanks for everything." Rod was past the simulator bays now, almost in eyesight of the command offices. "I'd explain if I could, no time."
"Trouble just finds you, Hardy." Neil's holographic image looked upset.
"Don't I know it. Kiss Gomez for me. Over and out." Rod cut off the feed and entered the command offices. He adjusted his uniform as he approached his CO's office, and knocked smartly.
"Come in." Captain Stern was standing behind his desk talking to Dr. Rhett Goins, the physician who'd been in charge of the medical part of their initial evaluations back when Rod had first arrived at the Academy.
Rod snapped to attention and saluted. "Cadet Rod Hardy reporting, Sir!"
"At ease, Cadet." Captain Stern looked Rod over. "I've been discussing your case with Doctor Goins, here. You remember Doctor Goins?"
"Sir, yes Sir!" Rod said. He considered the possibility of trying to make a statement in his own defense. He'd just been standing up for Smith, after all. And it was that bully Brock who'd started the whole thing. He knew better by now than to speak before he was ordered to, though, so he kept his mouth shut and tried to keep his knees from shaking.
"We've discovered some things in your file that warrant further investigation," said the Captain.
"Now don't be alarmed," Doctor Goins said, "It isn't anything bad. You just may have some capacities we've been looking for. We'd like to do some testing on you, if that's all right."
Rod felt a huge sense of relief wash over him. Maybe he wasn't going to wash out over the restroom incident. "Of course, Doctor. Anything you need."
"Excellent, excellent," the doctor was all smiles. "You really may be an ideal candidate. Captain, I'll need him for, say, twelve hours."
"I'll assign him to you until 0600," Stern said. "Have fun, you two."
Rod turned back for an instant as the door to Captain Stern's office slid shut, to see Stern with his boots up on his desk, a cigar in his mouth, and a big wolflike smile on his face. Rod felt a chill run down his spine.
"Don't be worried," Doctor Goins said. "These are just some standard tests we use to determine certain aptitudes. You seem to display some tendencies that the Galactic Guard has been very interested in for a long time."
"You mean I'm a psychic?" Rod said. "That's it, isn't it? I've got latent psi abilities!"
"No, that's not it, I'm afraid. Psychics are incredibly rare, though I've met a couple of them. Always an unsettling experience. Here we are!"
The medical complex was a lot different than Rod remembered it. There weren't lines of scared young cadets waiting at every door, for one thing. For another, it was really quiet. Dr. Goins led him into a corridor labeled "Sleep Labs," and then into an office. He picked up a tablet and a pen and handed them to Rod.
"This is the authorization form. I'm about to do a series of tests. Some of them will be painful, and some of them will be degrading. You'll be restrained for a lot of them, and you will be blindfolded and gagged as well. Some of the tests will be sexual in nature. No permanent physical harm will come to you. Please sign here."
Rod stared at the form. Words like 'complete consent' and 'necessary and unnecessary medical tests' and 'subject has no legal recourse' seemed to happen a lot in it.
He signed.
Doctor Goins took the tablet back from Rod and tapped a few buttons on it. "Strip naked," he said without looking up.
Rod shrugged and started undoing his tunic. He'd been naked in front of people lots of times since he'd joined up, but it had always been in a room full of other guys. Shucking off his uniform in front of just Doctor Goins was different somehow. Especially since the doctor was a Captain in the Galactic Guard himself. He was always on about the importance of fitness and nutrition, and from what Rod could see under his lab coat, he practiced what he preached.
Unfortunately Rod followed this train of thought a little far. By the time he was shucking off his skivvies his cock was most of the way to being hard. He could feel himself blushing, too.
The doctor looked up from the tablet, right at Rod's cock, which responded by coming to attention. Dr. Goins raised an eyebrow. "Eager to get on with the testing, Hardy?"
"Sir, yes Sir!" Rod replied.
"If at any point during this procedure you feel you want to stop the testing, all you have to do is hold up three fingers of either hand. Do you understand, Cadet?"
"Sir, yes sir! If this cadet wants to stop the test, hold up three fingers." Rod wondered again what sort of testing this would be, but he wasn't too concerned about it. The Galactic Guard took care of its own.
"Bend over and spread your ass wide, Cadet." Doctor Hardy smiled as he said it. He had a kind smile, which was disconcerting in the context.
Rod hesitated a moment, but his hands moved automatically to his ass, and he found himself bending over. He'd gotten good at following orders in the past few weeks.
Doctor Goins walked behind him and Rod felt hands on his ass, spreading him even wider, and then felt something cold and slick being applied to his asshole.
"Permission to speak, Sir!" Rod said.
"Permission denied." Doctor Goins slowly thrust one thick finger into Rod's ass.
Rod realized that he should probably protest this violation somehow, but he didn't want to disrupt the test. Besides, it was a medical procedure, and those were always uncomfortable. The doctor's finger didn't feel so bad, now that he'd gotten used to it. Rod's cock sure didn't mind.
After just a few more seconds though, the doctor withdrew his finger from Rod's ass. Rod heard him snap his gloves off.
"Attention!" Doctor Goins barked, and Rod straightened up and came to attention. He was intensely aware of his slippery ass and his rock-hard cock twitching in front of him.
The doctor picked up a device that looked like a cross between a suction cup and a Harutan rock spider. He smeared some clear jelly on a couple of parts, then fitted the device over Rod's right nipple and hit a tiny button.
The device emitted a tiny hum and clamped on to Rod's left nipple, hard. Rod struggled to stay at attention, despite the pain. Doctor Goins just looked him in the eye, raised one eyebrow, then turned back to his work. He put an identical device over Rod's right nipple and pushed the button. Rod was braced for the small jolt of pain this time, and stayed perfectly still.
Doctor Goins stuck little sensor pads to Rod's chest, then put a couple on his forehead. He looked over a few readings on his tablet, then nodded. "Come with me," he said.
Rod followed behind him, every step reminding him that a) he was naked, b) his ass was strangely slick, and c) the things on his nipples kept bouncing around driving him crazy. He fought hard to keep a military bearing. He was a cadet in the Galactic Guard, and he was under orders.
The doctor led him into a room labeled Sleep Lab 5, so Rod was expecting to see a bed. Instead, there was only a chair on a little platform, and a whole bunch of control panels set into a desk next to it. There were wires and tubes and straps all over the chair, and blinking indicators and diagrams all over the control panels. The whole setup looked more complicated than the controls of a system patrol cutter.
"Sit," Doctor Goins said.
Rod looked around the room for another chair, but there was only the wired-up one. He walked over, stepping carefully over bundles of cables and tubes, and took a seat in the chair. It was the most comfortable he'd been since he'd started at the Academy, that was for sure. The padding on the chair seemed to conform to his body exactly.
"This equipment is very delicate, and it's essential that you remain still throughout this procedure, so you're going to be restrained." Just as the doctor said that, he hit a control on the panel and Rod felt the chair stir beneath him. Straps extruded from the arms and legs of the chair and encircled his wrists and ankles, then more straps went around his upper arms, his thighs, his head and his chest. Rod pulled against them, but they were tight. They looked like plastisteel, too, so there was no way he was going to break them.
"Permission to speak, Sir!" Rod said, straining against the straps.
"Permission denied, Cadet." The doctor pulled a bundle of leads down from the ceiling and started to attach them to the sensors on Rod's chest and head. When he attached leads to the devices on Rod's nipples, Rod could have sworn he felt them tremble just a little bit.
The doctor turned back to the control panels and entered in a sequence of commands, then opened a compartment and took out something that looked a lot like a jellyfish. It was a completely clear amorphous blob. Rod was relieved to see that what he'd thought were tentacles were just wires and leads, though.
Doctor Goins brought the thing over to Rod and held it up against Rod's cock and balls. The jellyfish device immediately started flowing around Rod's cock, enveloping the shaft and then the head of his penis, expanding to flow over his balls. Rod's junk was entirely encased in warm, clear plastic.
The doctor pulled a few more leads and tubes down from the ceiling and attached them to the leads on the jellyfish thing, then he looked up at Rod and smiled. "All ready?" he asked.
Rod had about ten thousand questions, and a few hundred objections saved up, but the doctor had caught him flat-footed. "Umm... Sir, yes Sir!" he said.
"Good. Take a deep breath," Doctor Goins said.
Rod breathed in, and when his lungs were full Doctor Goins put a jellyfish over his face.
The clear plastic started flowing into his mouth and nose immediately, filling them up completely, suffocating the young cadet. He struggled against the straps on his limbs. For a second, Rod was convinced he was about to die.
But then he remembered. This was the Galactic Guard, and they took care of their own. Until he got kicked out, left, or got killed, he was a member of the Galactic Guard, and he'd behave like one. Rod calmed himself, and realized that the doctor was attaching a tube to the thing in his mouth. Suddenly he got a burst of cool, clean air.
His mouth was being held open comfortably, but it was entirely full of a warm plastic substance. Even his tongue was encased. Strangely, his mouth wasn't drying out either.
"Okay, then," Dr. Goins said. "You remember what you have to do if you want the test to stop, right?"
Rod gulped, then nodded. His head moved a fraction of an inch.
"All right then. Have a good night." The doctor flipped a couple of switches on the panel, and a big clear tube rose up out of the floor around Rod's chair, surrounding Rod completely. It rose to about two feet higher than Rod's head, and stopped. Rod saw Dr. Goins push a button, and he heard a pump start up.
The straps restraining his head didn't allow him to look down, but Rod could swear he could hear water running.
Soon his fear was confirmed when he felt something lap up against his feet. It was warm, body temperature, so he was uncertain he felt anything until it was almost up past his arches. The tube was filling fast, and Rod couldn't help pulling against his bonds, but he was secured and immobile.
As the water reached his ankles, Rod became aware of a pressure building in his ass. He thought for a moment that he was about to embarrass himself, but then he realized that something was in his ass. Something small had wormed its way up him, and now it was growing.
Rod panicked, but there was nothing he could do. The probe had come out of the seat of this diabolical chair, had invaded him without him even knowing, and now it was deep inside him, and it was getting bigger. As the water got to Rod's thighs, his ass had been connected to the chair by a tube almost as thick as his cock.
The water reached his neck, and Rod reminded himself that he was breathing through the tube in his mouth, that he wasn't going to drown, that there was no way the Galactic Guard would let a cadet die like this. But when the water came up over his eyes, there was a look of panic in them.
Once the water closed over his head, Rod breathed. The tube in his mouth kept supplying him with air, so he took a moment to calm himself and look around. The water was clear and warm, and when the pumps shut off after the tube was full it was difficult to even tell he was submerged.
He could see Dr. Goins's distorted image through the curved surface of the tube. He was working at the panels, then he turned to look at Rod.
Rod heard what sounded like tiny splashes on the surface of the water above his head. Soon he saw little black shapes drifting in his peripheral vision. They looked like... spiders. One floated past within inches of his face, and Rod was able to see that it was mechanical, and it had six legs, but it looked a whole lot like a spider anyway.
The young cadet felt one land on his shoulder. A chill raced through his flesh as he felt the creature move on his skin. It was walking towards his neck.
Another one touched down on his head, then one grazed his ear. Then they were falling on his arms and his legs, and they were all moving, and Rod found that he was trying to scream through his open mouth but that he couldn't. Something was keeping him from making any sound.
The creatures were moving over him, gripping his skin with tiny claws, grouping up in various areas of Rod's body; his armpits, his feet, his sides, the back of his neck.
And then, nothing. For a few seconds the tiny creatures all over him held perfectly still. The doctor had his back turned, and was working on the panels. Rod tried to calm his breathing, tried to think of what purpose this test could serve, wondered whether the doctor knew about the spiders, whether they were part of the test...
And then the lights in the lab turned off. Illuminated in the light from the instrument panels, Doctor Goins hit one last sequence of commands, and turned towards Rod with what looked like an expression of satisfaction.
And the thing enveloping Rod's cock began to move.
At first it was just a tiny pulse, an awakening. Then the jellyfish thing began to move on his cock, fondling it gently. It conformed to his cock and his balls exactly, but it was more than that, it was like it was... snuggling him.
Rod's nipples, he realized, were feeling the same way. The devices that Dr. Goins had attached to them felt like they were gently kissing his nipples.
Then the shaft in his ass began to move, pulsing inside him, doing little more than remind him that it was there. The tubes down his throat did the same. Rod pulled against his bonds, but he was strapped down firmly.
Then the spiders started to move, and it immediately became clear what they were for. They tickled.
Rod tried to laugh, but his throat was being held open somehow. If he hadn't been restrained, he would have doubled over laughing and tried to get away from the torment. He was bound fast to the chair, though, so tight that he could barely move at all. All of his muscles contracted as he tried to pull free of the straps, and the tendons on his neck stood out like bridge cables. The tickling intensified, and he couldn't react at all. He couldn't laugh, he couldn't scream, he couldn't move at all.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Rod realized that the jellyfish thing on his cock was moving, stroking him, getting him harder and harder. The tickling was driving him insane, and there was a new sensation building. It took Rod a while to realize it, but the shaft in his ass was fucking him, paying particular attention to hitting his prostate.
The spiders were working at his feet, his sides, the backs of his knees, the insides of his thighs, his armpits and his neck, and Rod wasn't sure which was worse. The tickling was driving him insane, but at the same time his cock was harder than he could remember. Rod felt himself about to cum.
Suddenly, the jellyfish around his cock turned hard as duranium and gripped the base of his cock tightly. Rod would have cried out if he'd been able to make a sound. He felt the cum battling to get out of his balls, but the pressure from the jellyfish was too great. The waves of orgasm receded, and Rod was left breathing heavily in his underwater chair.
Then the spiders, the jellyfish, the nipple devices, and the tube up his ass went to work again.
Rod could see Dr. Goins outside the tube, watching him, making notes on his tablet.
Rod did everything he could to resist the torment, but it was overwhelming. The spiders were attacking him all over, their little claws alternating between soft tickling and sharp needle-like jabs. His ass felt like it was being stretched out by whatever was up it, and it was fucking into him relentlessly.
And then Rod jerked in his chair, hard enough to send little clouds of spiders drifting off his skin. It seemed that the devices on his nipples worked as electrical stimulus points. The other sensors on his skin did too.
Bound to the chair, stimulated beyond reason, tickled, electrocuted, fucked, and teased, Rod felt like he was about to lose his mind. For a fleeting second, he thought about holding up three fingers and ending the test. But the Galactic Guard had to be running this test for a reason. They needed the data. They had to find out what he was capable of.
Cadet Rod Hardy of the Galactic Guard was going to show them.
It was less than a minute before the young cadet was on the edge of orgasm again, and again the jellyfish thing clamped down on him, squelching his climax before it could get started. The stimulation started back up immediately, and this time it only took seconds before the jellyfish had him in a viselike grip again. If he could have made a sound, Rod would have been howling in frustration.
The next time it was different. Rod felt himself getting close, and a whole lot of things started to happen at once. The shaft in his ass pounded him in rhythm with the jellyfish thing's stroking, making his prostate light up with every thrust. The spiders seemed to go into some sort of stroking mode, because now his skin was tingling with pleasure all over. The devices on his nipples seemed to be sucking, even biting down on them. And the jellyfish thing was stroking him firmly, teasing the head of his cock, cradling his balls, tickling the young cadet's taint.
As horned up as he was and with all this stimulation, it didn't take long before Rod found himself about to shoot his load. He braced himself for the jellyfish to clamp down on him, but this time it seemed to be dedicated to getting him to cum, and hard. Rod felt an orgasm build within him like the ignition chamber of a Zeta-class engine, and then he blasted off.
The jellyfish thing sucked the cum out of his cock like a hull breach. Rod felt cum pour out of him like never before, it felt like his insides were turning to liquid and flowing out of him. It was like being electrified. In fact, now that he thought about it, he was being electrified. A small current was coming from the devices on his nipples and the sensors on his skin, just enough to make him cum even harder.
Rod was pretty sure if he'd been able to make any sounds he would have blown out his vocal cords.
As his orgasm wound down, the various devices retreated a bit, letting the young cadet catch his breath.
Something dribbled out of a tube in his mouth, directly under his tongue. It was his cum. At least, he was pretty sure it was his.
It was peaceful just floating in his straps while the devices weren't busy making him crazy. It kind of reminded Rod of free fall. But it didn't last long, unfortunately.
Rod felt the shaft in his ass start to move, timidly nudging at his prostate. The jellyfish thing seemed to stretch out his soft cock, and then stroked it with feather-light touches. Then the nipple things started to move, and the spiders, and Rod was achingly hard again.
It took a lot longer for him to cum this time. Rod figured that part of the test was to see how many times they could get him to cum, so he was determined to set a Galactic Guard record. He started picturing the hottest scenes he could in his mind, scenes where he was being abused by his fellow spacemen, by officers, by aliens. He pictured what he looked like to the scientists who were conferring outside his tube, naked, bound to a chair, straps and sensors and devices all over him, mouth gagged, cock hard. He got close time and again, but the jellyfish thing on his cock kept clamping down on him, stopping his orgasms before they began.
It might have been twenty minutes, or it might have been an hour later that Rod approached orgasm again. By that time he was spasming in his bonds, his whole body jerking involuntarily, little clouds of spider robots floating off his skin as he came.
After his third orgasm he became aware that he needed to piss urgently. He tried to hold it, hoping the test was over, but then the devices started working at him again. His cock got hard, and this time cumming took forever because of the desperate need to pee. When he finally orgasmed, after the spiders had lit up his body like the marquees on the Arcadia Space Station and the shaft in his ass had apparently grown to the size of a Denebian's arm. In the lull after his cock had belched up a few more spurts of cum into the jellyfish, Rod determined he'd have to piss, rather than risk going through that again.
And then he tasted his cum in his mouth, and realized what was about to happen.
There was no helping it, though. He was going to have to let it out sometime. Rod let loose his bladder.
And sure enough, seconds later, his hot piss splashed out of the tube in his mouth and down his throat.
He was almost done pissing when the spiders started back up again.
Things had gotten fuzzy after the first few times he came, and he could have sworn towards the end he was hearing voices and smelling things, which was impossible, because he was underwater. There was no reason he should be hearing the words of the Galactic Guard oath, or smelling things like locker rooms. He was pretty sure there were a few people coming and going outside the tube, but he was sure they shouldn't have been admirals. His brain was playing tricks on him after his senses had been so overloaded for so long.
The young cadet must have been brought to the brink of orgasm and then stopped a hundred times in the next few hours. He was pretty sure he actually came six times, but at the end he'd lost count.
Rod started coming back to consciousness when the water began draining from his tube. He felt the spiders scuttle off of him as the water level dropped. After the warmth of the water in the tube, the air felt arctic.
Doctor Goins was waiting with a big warm towel. "Okay, Cadet. You did great. Don't try to talk or move yet, I've got to get these sensors off of you. Here you go."
He put the towel around the shoulders of the sodden boy, then started working to take the thing out of his mouth. "I've got to hand it to central command, they really know how to pick 'em. Your results are extraordinary, Cadet. I've never seen anything quite like it."
He pulled the tubes out of Rod's throat, and Rod started coughing, his head still pinned to the back of the chair.
"Hey, don't cough a lung up, Cadet! Here you go." The doctor sprayed something in Rod's mouth, and the urge to cough disappeared. Rod tasted peppermint.
"Thanks, doc. What the heck were you testing me for, anyway?" It felt weird talking again after so long in the tank.
The doctor was peeling leads off of Rod's chest. "I really can't discuss the results of the test with the subject, I'm afraid. Your CO will talk to you about it, I'm sure."
"Oh, okay, doc," Rod said. "And could you hurry up getting me unhooked? I'd like to see if I could still catch some chow."
"Chow?" Dr. Goins said. "It's one in the morning!"
"I was only in that thing for six hours?" Rod said. "Gosh, it felt like it was all night!"
"Time distortion is pretty common during the test," Doctor Goins said. He hit a switch, and the straps withdrew from Rod's limbs. The young cadet sagged.
"Careful there, sport!" Doctor Goins caught Rod before he could fall out of the chair, and then lifted him in his arms. Rod had never felt so weak. Doctor Goins carried him across the lab to a cot and laid him down gently.
"You get some shuteye," the doctor said. "I'm just going to get some followup readings. Nothing you have to be awake for. I'll get you up in time to make reveille."
Rod fell asleep to the comforting feeling of the doctor's hands on him, checking him, taking measurements, probing.
The doc shook him awake at 0545, gave him a cup of coffee and sent him back to his barracks. Rod arrived just as reveille played over the comms, and struggled to shuck out of yesterday's uniform and into the right one for today.
Rod expected to feel exhausted after his ordeal, but he was actually feeling pretty chipper. He even almost managed to beat Benjamin Tiyamike, the big New Venusian who'd been his nemesis throughout zero-gravity wrestling training. His unit was just finishing up in the locker room afterward when his company commander, Chief Petty Officer Whuckles barked Rod's name out.
"Yes, Sir!" Rod came to attention, hoping his towel would stay on.
"Report to Captain Stern on the double, Hardy!"
"Yes, Sir!" Rod dressed and quickmarched to the command offices. He followed the prompts to Captain Stern's office. The smartdoor opened when he approached.
"Cadet Rod Hardy." Captain Stern read his name from a tablet in front of him. Rod approached his desk smartly and snapped to attention.
"Your performance here has been exemplary, Hardy. Excellent academic scores, top in your class in physical skills. Did you know your company commander has recommended you for command training already?"
Rod was exhilarated, but he struggled not to show it. He had thought Chief Whuckles hated his guts. "Sir, no sir!"
"At ease, Cadet." Captain Stern tossed the tablet down on the desk. "It all looks great on paper. You're the golden boy, out to be the perfect spaceman. You're going to graduate this place with commendations and medals and qualifications, all set for a great career in the Galactic Guard. Right?"
"Sir, hopefully, sir!" Rod said.
"I know your type, boy." Captain Stern leaned across his desk. "And when I say I know your type, I mean I've compared your personality profile to a sophisticated cognitive matrix using a complex set of equations to analyze your character traits. I've compared my results with the finest psychologists in the Guard, and cross-checked them with Command. So take what I'm about to say seriously.
"Your career in the Guard is going to be disappointing, to you and to the Guard. You're going to be lucky to make it to four years, let alone twenty, and Command is setting your chances of a dishonorable discharge at above eighty percent. You're a great cadet, but you're going to make a terrible spaceman."
Rod felt his heart go into free fall. For the first time since he'd come to the Academy, tears welled up in his eyes.
"Hey, don't go all mushy on me, Hardy. Atten-hut!" Captain Stern barked.
Rod came to attention smartly.
"You want to be a spaceman more than anything, don't you, Hardy?"
"Sir, yes Sir!" Rod said.
"And you've got the physical and mental qualifications to make the grade. So what's going to make your career go into a tailspin after graduation?" Captain Stern sat down at his desk. "At ease, Cadet. The Academy keeps an eye out for files like yours. There's a way to make sure you can reach the potential your trainers see in you, no matter what the file says. Are you interested, Cadet?"
"Sir! Yes! Sir!" Rod couldn't imagine a future without the Guard. He'd been trying while Captain Stern was talking.
"I thought you might be. There's a program we've developed that can help. Have you ever heard of Section D?"
"Sir, section D is a disciplinary section, where problem spacemen are sent as punishment. Sir." Where the misfits and criminals wound up doing the nastiest jobs the Galactic Guard had to offer. It was the lowest you could get in the Guard without being discharged. Rod felt his heart's gravitational field begin to weaken again.
"That's what you're supposed to think." Captain Stern leaned back in his chair. "Ever since human beings have had militaries, we've also had the problem of sexual harassment in them. If you give some people power, they respond to it sexually. Some of those officers will exert their influence to have sex with their subordinates, and obviously that's a serious problem.
"But some of the men with these urges were good commanders.
"In the late twenty-first century, Galactic Guard analysts started noticing the pattern you display among some cadets. They'd go hell for leather all the way through their training, and then wash out as soon as they hit their first post. It was happening to some of our best people. So we asked them why.
"And when I say we asked them why, I mean we did a comprehensive analysis of their characters using the best psychiatric and medical science of the day. And they found that those cadets had a similar sexual connection to serving in the military. They wanted the intense rigor of training, the discipline, the order, the subjugation. The very idea of military service turns them on.
"When they got out of training and into the real world, the rules were looser, the discipline was more lax, the officers were less strict. Everything they came into the Guard for was back in the Academy."
Captain Stern rose from his desk and approached the cadet. "So we used one problem to solve another. We created Section D. Tell me, Ensign Hardy, did you ever buy Galactic Guard gear when you were a civilian so that you could masturbate in it?"
The question hit Rod like a broadside from a battery of laser cannons. "Sir?" He gulped. "Yes, Sir."
"So we have some cadets, like you, for whom the military needs to be a disciplined, rigorous, highly sexual environment." Captain Stern brushed some lint of of Rod's shoulder. "And we have some commanders who want to lead troops in a highly disciplined, rigorous, sexual environment. Now, we could do the stupid thing and just kick these people out of the Galactic Guard altogether. Keeping in mind that these are people who have the highest level of motivation possible to excel in a military context, though, we thought we'd try something else.
"So we created Section D. If you're in section D, you belong to the Guard. Completely. You sign away all your rights. From then on, you only have one choice: follow orders, or resign from the Guard. Your superiors can use you any way they want to. If you were in Section D, Cadet, I could have you drop to your knees and suck my dick right now, and you'd be gobbling cock as fast as you come to attention.
"Your cock's hard right now, isn't it, Cadet?" Captain Stern said.
"Sir, yes Sir!" Rod was breathing hard too.
"You're a natural for Section D. I have your test results right here," Captain Stern flipped open a folder on his desk. "I've never seen anyone with such a natural aptitude. You know, most guys bail out of that test when we lube up their assholes. Only three other men have made it all the way through to the end."
Rod snuck a look at the folder. On the front page, in red ink, there was a big S, and the numbers 98.9%.
He'd suspected as much. He was a pure submissive. And now the Guard knew it.
Captain Stern approached and stood so his face was about an inch from Rod's. "Is there something on my desk you find more interesting than me, Cadet?" he said. Yelled, rather. With spittle accompaniment.
"Sir, no Sir!" Rod made sure to stand ramrod straight, chin back, chest out.
"Your commanding officer is talking to you, are you supposed to be looking around the room?"
"Sir, no Sir!"
"Were you off on your own mental alone time there, Hardy? Looking to see what's in the paper?"
"Sir, no excuse, Sir!"
"You're damned right there's no excuse. You'd better be glad you're not in Section D right now, Cadet, or you'd be finding out what discipline really means. I'd bend you over this desk and whip your ass raw, then fuck you till you screamed. Any infraction can end up with you on your knees, begging for mercy. Probably for cock, too. Does that sound good to you, Hardy?"
"Sir, yes Sir!" It sounded good to Rod's cock, for sure. It had woken up and was trying to find a way out of his pants.
"You want to find out if you can take it right here and now, Cadet? You want to see if you can handle some Section D discipline?"
Rod couldn't help it. He gulped. "Sir, yes Sir!"
Captain Stern grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him down on his desk. Rod saw his personnel folder go fluttering off as his Captain ripped down Rod's uniform pants. Captain Stern grabbed something from a corner behind his desk, and Rod recognized it as the whip antenna from the port bow of a Crusher-class cruiser, made of plastisteel laced with duranium.
Captain Stern held Rod down on his desk with one hand on the back of the trembling cadet's neck, and he swung the whip antenna through the air a couple of times. Rod imagined he could hear it separating the bonds between oxygen atoms. Then Captain Stern bent in close to his ear, and whispered, "Are you ready to see if you're cut out for Section D, Cadet?" __________________________
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