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Escaping the Chemical Farm

Part 2

For LaFontaine

By Draconicon

Swirling patterns and flickering words, images that appeared and disappeared too quickly to make out in any clear fashion, whispering hisses that made no sense: all of these and more became the world that Jacob and Bjorn called 'off-time.' When they weren't hooked into the machines, when they weren't being forced to train their asses and their cocks for some unseen purpose, when they weren't getting their balls milked to the ends of their endurance, they were forced to kneel in front of a screen as it flickered and fuzzed, as it spun and hummed something that they didn't understand.

The two Intelligence agents fought it as hard as they could, and for the most part, Jacob thought they were doing well. He hadn't noticed anything extraordinary changing in his behaviors, and Bjorn seemed as constant as always, but...

But there were gaps, worrying ones, when the Director arrived during their 'off-time.' He could remember the Saurian entering the room, smirking as he always did, but then there was little else in his memory until the Director left again. There was no question that something had happened in the intervening time, but whatever it was, it was locked away behind various doors in his memory.

No Intelligence agent liked the idea of something being off-limits. They needed to know what was going on to make informed decisions on what actions to take, and this...This made him worry.

The one positive change was that they had been given a private room. Perhaps a cell would be more accurate, as there were no beds, no places for them to do their business - that still required separate trips to a different room - but at least they weren't always surrounded by an audience anymore.

Even better, the room didn't have any cameras or microphones in the walls. Both of them had checked, surreptitiously at first, and then more closely when they were allowed the freedom from the restraint matrices to do so. There were no bumps, no slight indents that would have indicated a lens sunken into the wall. There were no little grills or odd textures that implied a microphone.

They were completely private there unless there was someone else in the room, and that was enough to give them room to plan.

They'd just finished their latest 'off-time' session, and it would only be a few minutes until the Director or one of his lackeys arrived to start physically conditioning them again. It didn't give them much time, but it was all they had. Jacob stood up, stretching his arms over his shoulders, while Bjorn just pulled himself back to a seated position.

"They're not giving us any openings," the bull muttered.

"No, but they will."

"I don't see how."

"Everyone does. It's just a matter of time before someone slips."

Nobody could maintain full vigilance forever. Intelligence was just as liable to fall for that as any other division of the armed forces, where they believed that all the security wasn't entirely necessary. It started with bored guards, then bored computer jockeys. The boredom spread, followed by a tweak to the budget to not waste so much money on docile prisoners that weren't even making an attempt to break free.

Eventually, even the worst of threats from the higher-ups lost their power, and security went lax, and that, well, that allowed for opportunities. There was no point in waiting for the Director to make a mistake, but the common guards? That was different.

He was still in the process of stretching out his legs when the door opened again. He turned, half-expecting the guards that would take them for a bathroom break, but instead, it was the Director.

The constant sneer from the Saurian was getting on his nerves, but ever since the Director had called him out on planning something in that meeting...who knew how long ago, he knew better than to push his luck. The last thing that he needed was to confirm those suspicions.

Soft, soft. Let him think that you're breaking.

The Director's blue coat shimmered as he walked into the room, and he smiled as he looked at the pair of them. Bjorn snorted at the Saurian, shaking his head as he got to his hooves.

"What do you want this time, asshole?"

"I'm seeing whether you have the stamina for a presentation."

"...Presentation?" Jacob asked.

"So, the silent one speaks. And here I thought that you might have decided to become a mute. Good; the ones that speak sell for higher than the disabled ones."

The Director chuckled, pointing upwards with one finger. The two agents hesitated for a second, then lifted their arms up for the restraints above them.

The light of the matrices activating and the hum of the machine was so constant and normal by now that neither of them flinched when it activated. The pressure of the restraints around their wrists returned, then pulled their arms up further, further, further, until Jacob was forced to stand on tip-toes and Bjorn was made to stand on the edge of his hooves. Both of them grunted, biting their lips at the uncomfortable position.

Worse, their hips were forced forward for inspection. Jacob felt his balls swinging forward, back, forward, and then grunted as the Director reached out and grabbed them, squeezing his sack with a firm grip.

"Mmmph..."

"You're certainly getting larger down here. It seems that the drugs are settling in quite effectively. You're tighter, heavier, but not unseemly in size..."

The Doberman kept his mouth shut, not rising to the bait, not saying anything that might be taken and turned against him later. When the Director couldn't get him to respond, the Saurian turned to the bull.

"And you. Quite hefty, as always, but I believe that you might be in the lead with production. Then again, I believe you are what the mammals would call a 'stud'. Certainly, you are from a species that seems made to produce and breed."

"Mmph...Ain't breeding nothing for you."

"I wouldn't ask someone so low to do that."

The pair of them got a light smack to the balls. Not enough to really hurt, but enough to sting and make them remember just how helpless those parts were. Bjorn slumped forward a bit, while Jacob managed to keep his back straight. Mostly.

They huffed softly as the Director continued to examine them. Gloved hands ran up and down their bodies, stroking their bellies, their chests, then back down to their cocks and balls. It was always so...inhuman, so clinical, considering the latex was always chilled and there was no warmth to the touch. It was just a full examination, something to remind them where they belonged, what they were.

Livestock.

The more that he was fondled, the more that Jacob remembered the rest of the soldiers that they'd shipped out with. The other captives, the other men, had long since been broken. He'd seen them during the bathroom breaks, seen them with their mindless stare, their throbbing, ringed cocks.

Some of them had been pierced and branded, too. He saw two wolves with a Saurian claw-mark branded into their hips, and with their nipples pierced with silver rings. They had been nothing more than slaves, pleasurable things that would be shipped off somewhere else until they were completely used up. What would happen to them after that, he didn't know. He imagined that it depended on their masters more than anything else, on who bought them and what their morals were.

The idea that might happen to him and Bjorn...

No. We can hold out. We aren't trained. We aren't broken. We can make it to the end of this.

The Director gave them one more stroke before moving behind them. Jacob did his best to not look like he was resisting as he kept his tail down, and he didn't hold it when the Director pushed it off to the side. The latex-covered finger under his tail made him hiss, but when it slid inside -

"Mmmmph..."

The moan came from Bjorn, but Jacob could feel the urge himself as that digit slid inside, rubbing his ass and then his prostate. The little nub was an eminent traitor of his anatomy, pushing him to get hard right then and there. There was nothing that he could do to stop the biological response, and nothing that he could do to stop it from getting harder and harder with each little flick.

"I need you to be ready for this demonstration. There's a minister from the War department here today, and he's most interested in getting a personal pleasure slave from the armies of his greatest enemies. I imagine that you will be tormented quite well by him, if he decides to buy you."

Keeping his mouth shut was harder than ever. A minister from the War department would be an excellent source of information, but they were hardly in a position to try and extract that information from him. In fact, they were in the worst position for that, considering that if he found out that they were part of the Intelligence agency for their side...

This is bad. This is really, really bad.

He didn't dare share a look with Bjorn, considering that the Director had ferreted out so much of their secrets already, but the bull was too distracted anyway. He was grinding back on the Saurian's finger, and much to the Doberman's shame, he was doing the same thing. He could feel that latex glove going deeper and deeper into his pucker, and the feeling of it rubbing his prostate, curling against it, felt too good for him to resist.

"Mmmph...nnngh..."

The two of them bit their lips as they were forced erect, their cocks throbbing hard and dripping by the time that the Director pulled his fingers free. Jacob shook his head, huffing softly, trying to consider it nothing more than a medical exam back home. He got hard from those, too. Didn't mean that he'd been affected by anything...

He hoped.

I have training. I can resist this. Just a bit longer.

Eventually, a gap would come. Nobody could keep this level of hyper-vigilance going forever. Eventually, someone would make a mistake, and then he could get the hell out of here. At the very least, they would be able to send a message for someone to come get them. They still had information that their allies needed to see.

Until then, endure. Just...endure.

The Director's smirk reminded him how hard that was going to be, but he did his utter best not to let it sink his confidence into the floor. He was an intelligence officer, and he would do this.

The door slipped open again, and this time, there were more to come in than just scientists. He looked past the Director, seeing the white clothes that meant someone in politics, and his eyes flicked up and down the Saurian that wore them.

He was a bigger man, standing nearly eight feet tall, and he was one of those that had avoided the portliness that was such a plague among those that entered the political arena. Thick across the shoulders to the point where he looked like he wore shoulder-pads, the Minister wore the white shirt and black-barred sleeves that meant that he had been in the military, too. Not too surprising, considering what department he served in.

Thicker than the Director, he provided a much stockier, more intimidating figure, particularly since he didn't have the same sneer. If anything, he wore an expression of...of want, for lack of a better word, and that was not something that the Doberman liked having directed at him. It made him think of things that were better left unthought.

"Now, the Minister wishes to see just what he might be purchasing. Anything that he says, you will do. Do you understand?"

Bjorn glared, and Jacob almost did the same thing. There was a subtle point of pride, a subtle thing that he had to keep going. No growling, but no lowering the eyes, either. Standing straight, not quite hiding anything, but not quite showing it off, either. The middle-ground. The place where he couldn't quite be accused of being uppity, as long as he was careful about it.

The Minister didn't say anything, but he did gesture at their cocks. The Director nodded.

"Yes, they are quite capable. I have tested their capacity for stamina and for orgasms. The longest that they have been able to hold out without assistance is approximately three hours, and they have been forcefully edged for over 70 without ill-effects."

Seventy hours of edging straight. He had never imagined that they'd been pushed through that level of hell, but it explained why his cock was aching for so long that time. He shivered as he imagined his dick being put back into some of the milking machines that the Saurians had on the ship, and he hoped that he would never have to go through something like that again.

His cock twitched, though, and the Minister smirked slightly, almost as if approving of the reaction. The Director continued.

"I have trained them so that each orgasm is released at a level of 300 milliliters, minimum. They are very productive, now, and have reached record levels of about 800 milliliters of orgasmic fluid at the heights of their edging. I believe that we might be able to up that to 1.5 liters, given enough time and training."

Carrying that much cum was impossible, he was sure, but they were in a place where the impossible was accepted. Bjorn gasped at his side, the bear having obviously come to the same conclusion, but Jacob was trying to remember their sessions, trying to think of whether the Director was just bragging or if it was true.

It would have been impossible for him to measure his own output during those times, but as much as it shamed him to say it, it felt...right. There was a certain logic to that extremity, and he knew that he certainly had been cumming at much higher volumes than he had, previously. He knew that his wife would have been happy for that sort of play.

How had their biology changed like that though? They had been tortured and drugged a few times, yes, but how did that make them cum so hard and so much? That didn't make sense.

At the same time, sense seemed to have been abandoned a long time ago. Jacob had to stop questioning things and just move forward as if they were real. There was no other way to do that right at this point. Distrust the people, but trust the information.

The Minister gestured at them again, and the Director nodded.

"He wants to see the two of you jerk off, to start."

"..."

"And he wants to see you jerk each other off."

"You..."

Bjorn bit his lip, and Jacob said nothing. They had been frotting each other for the last who knew how long. It was not that big a deal at this point, if it kept the status quo and they weren't suspected of being too resistant. He would do it.

The restraints faded slightly overhead, releasing one of their hands each. The Director cleared his throat, clicking his tongue.

Jacob blinked as he realized that his hand was already on the bull's cock, and that Bjorn's hand was on his. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, biting his lip as he realized that he was already getting harder, stiffer. He hadn't thought that would happen so fast, nor did he think that he would be...enjoying this as much as he was.

Not gay. I didn't start this. This is just something...

His cock was already hard. That had to be part of this. If he hadn't already been so hard from the invasive anal fingering, this wouldn't be getting to him as much as it was. That was all that was going on.

Yet, at the same time, he could feel his bull second in command oozing all over his hand, dripping like mad over his fingers with thick ropes of pre-cum. It made it all the easier to stroke faster, and Bjorn was starting to thrust against his fingers, too. Not even commanded to do it, but just...doing it.

This is bad...

He bit his lip again as a moan threatened to break past them, huffing softly under his breath as he rocked his hips forward, back, forward, back, each time feeling his need rise a bit further. His cock was throbbing hard, already, and it was starting to drip, too.

Tight fingers squeezed around his cock, and he bit back a yelp as he felt his need spike. He didn't cum, but he did thrust harder against Bjorn's fist, and the bull did the same to him again.

What...this is...this is...not us...

"Stop."

The masturbation stopped, alright, but that didn't mean that the need that it had built up did. He struggled to keep from thrusting again, to keep from grinding and pushing and all that, but it was a struggle. God, it was a struggle.

Having two Saurians looking down at him didn't make it better, particularly when it was clear that one of them wanted to buy him, or Bjorn, or both. The fact that they hadn't said anything, either...

"The Minister will now see you, Doberman, suck the dick of your comrade."

"..."

"You are the superior officer, and you are meant to tend to the needs of your men. I imagine that you have done this before."

"Fuck you! He hasn't done anything of the sort. We both got girls at home for that," Bjorn growled.

This is not going to go well, he thought. Something's wrong, and I don't get it...but we have to keep up the act.

He nodded his understanding, and the Director undid a few more of the restraints. Jacob was allowed to get down on his knees, turning to face the bull. Bjorn looked down at him in shock, his eyes wide, but his cock didn't go down in the slightest.

They definitely did something to us. He shouldn't be hard for me. He's never been hard for me.

There were sacrifices that would be made for the mission, and he knew that. But this was something that was different. They weren't choosing to sacrifice some dignity for the sake of getting information home. On some level, Bjorn wanted the Doberman to suck on his cock...

And on some level, Jacob realized that he wanted to do it. Something had been changed, alright.

They're watching, he thought, lifting one hand to his comrade's balls. The other soldier groaned as he rolled the fuzzy, heavy, leathery things forward and back, using his other hand to pull that dick down. Whether you want it or not, make it a good show. They need to think that you're broken, or they'll watch you forever.

The smell, though. The hot, thick smell of man-musk was something that he wasn't used to, not this close to his face. It was one thing to be in the barracks and breathe it in when you were around all the dirty laundry. This was something much thicker, much stronger, and much more potent and organic. He groaned under his breath as he was forced to breathe it in before he slowly stuck out his tongue.

One lick, and then another, and then another. Each one cleaned a little bit more of the taste of pre-cum off of his second's cock, and more than that, each one made the bull moan just a bit louder. He could feel the throbbing going through his old friend's cock, and worse, he could feel it bobbing up and down for him the way that it had done for the gel milkers.

Just tease it, make it cum. That's all you have to do.

The Doberman leaned in, his ears pulling back a bit to lay against his head as he opened his mouth further. The fat tip of that cock pushed past his lips, laying on his tongue. He bobbed his head forward and back a few inches, never much past the head, but it was still enough for the big guy.

"Mmmph...fuck...fucking...hot mouth..."

Bjorn's words weren't much to go on, but the tone was. The big guy was trying to sound sexy, but it wasn't failing due to inexperience.

No, it was failing because he was too turned on to think. The big bull was trying to thrust, only held back by the restraints that pinned his arms and his heels to the ground. Anything less would have let him hump back and forth, back and forth, giving the Doberman an oral exercise for the ages. The idea was enough to send a shiver down his spine, knowing that it was very unlikely that he would have been able to take it.

Yet, he still sucked, taking it deeper, pulling it further down his throat. He could feel the head forcing his muzzle up more as it went towards the back, the thickness of the shaft making it difficult to take. Yet, he still pushed himself, right up to the point where -

POP!

The head pushed right into his throat. He should have gagged on it, should have choked and tried to pull back, but...but something else happened. Instead of being broken on it, Jacob felt the urge to push forward, to take more, and the Doberman did just that.

He stared as he felt his lips hit the base of that thick cock, his own throbbing harder than ever, oozing from the tip without being touched in the slightest. He was...he was dripping from blowing someone else.

Bad...oh, that's bad...

He didn't have a chance to stop, either. He bobbed his head forward, then pulled back. Then forward, then back, forward, back, never stopping, always fucking his face that bit more on that shaft. It was pushing right into his neck, fucking it as he groaned under his breath.

Gotta...gotta stop...before...

Before what, he didn't know, but he could feel his cock getting stiffer, harder, throbbing. Twitching against his belly, leaving pre-stains in his fur as he sucked on the bull's cock as hard as he could. Bjorn was throbbing in his throat, each bob of his head forcing him to suck down another mouthful of pre, another salty 'treat' for his guts.

It was getting out of hand. Way out of hand. He had to stop before -

"Stop."

And just like that, the Director gave him the freedom that he needed. He pulled back, gasping for breath as he realized that he had been completely helpless. There was nothing that he could do to stop himself from blowing that big cock, and...and he had wanted to do it.

The Director did something else, something that Jacob missed, and Bjorn's restraints were removed, too. The bull looked utterly confused, and embarrassed, but before either of them could do or say anything -

"The Minister will see you get fucked."

And just like that, he felt the urge, the need to go along with it. Jacob shook his head, biting his tongue as he looked up at his second. The bull's cock was hard enough to do the fucking, for sure, and he had taken bigger toys up his ass during their 'training' than his comrade's shaft, but...

This is real. This is REAL.

But he had to go through with it. Somehow, there was no choice. He needed to...for...

There was a reason, but it didn't matter. He just had to go through with it. The Doberman rolled over on all fours, flagging up his nub of a tail, and lowered his head. The feeling of the fat bull cock flopping down on top of his ass cheeks only made it worse...and better, considering his cock hopped right back up at the same time.

"Give the Minister a good show."

_The fuck lasts longer than he expects. The thickness of that shaft DOES make him cum quickly, but the fuck...oh, the fuck lasts longer than it has any right to.

Jacob gasps the first time that it pushes him over the edge. Barely a minute into it, and his hole burns from the heat of the friction from all the thrusting, his eyes rolling back from the sheer size of a real cock, but the pleasure is real. Too real. He cums, and he blows his load all over his belly.

He is flipped over, the bull holding him by the ankles, keeping his legs in the air so that he can't escape. Bjorn has become wild, feral, holding him down with sheer size and muscle. Even if he was sober, himself, free, the Doberman isn't sure that he would be able to escape that grip and that need.

He lets himself get fucked. No, he encourages it, arching his back against the floor, raising his hips to meet the thrusts coming from above. He can't help it. He needs the feeling of being filled, of being rutted, of being fucked. He loves the sensation, the feeling of his hole being opened._

Another orgasm rushes at him, hot on the heels of the first. He can hardly believe it, remembering that it took his girl more than a half hour to get him off a second time after he had cum the first time, but this is less than two minutes later. He bites his lips, curls his toes, but he can't hold back as he is held down, as he is used, as he is filled.

Another thrust, another ramming, harsh thrust that pushes a cock so far inside him that he swears it can be seen through his belly. Probably not, but it feels like it. It's big, though, and heavy, and fat, and it pushes him over the edge again.

He cums, and he smears it over his chest, over his belly, a thick, heavy load that far exceeds what the Director claims is the minimum size.

Most of it gets smeared on Bjorn, too, as they lean into each other. The bull growls down at him as if he is the predator and the Doberman is the prey.

They shift position again, and again, and again, each time based on when Jacob cums. He is laid sideways, one leg in the air as his ass is fucked. He's pulled down to sit in the bull's lap, riding him like a good slut. He's pinned against the wall, rutted until he sees stars.

Again, and again, and again, made to cum for an act that he can no longer remember or understand.

He woke up again, covered in seed, covered in the musk and smell of his second in command. He could hardly breathe from the exertion, and he could feel his back sliding against the floor from the sweat that soaked his fur.

Worse, he could feel the heat under his tail, the arousal that came from someone else's cum oozing out of him as humiliating as the fact that he had been seeded so deep.

Bjorn didn't meet his eyes, the bull looking away from him. Doubtlessly, the big guy was as humiliated as him, thinking about what would happen if his girl ever found out what they had done. Jacob couldn't blame him. He was thinking similar thoughts.

"I will speak with them."

Jacob's ears twitched. The voice was high, not quite feminine or soprano, but definitely higher than he would have expected for the Minister of the War department. He looked up slowly, tiredly.

The Director was in the process of bowing and leaving the room, and soon, the three of them were alone. The Doberman bit off the idea of jumping up and attacking the Minister; doubtlessly, he had his own ways of handling people, and besides, the two of them were exhausted. Even if they had been in tip-top shape, he doubted that attacking someone that high up would do them any favors, even if they were able to get him as a hostage.

The Minister looked over his shoulder. After a few more seconds, he turned back to them, squatting down so he was on their level.

"I know what you are...and I know you can help me."

"..."

"I want to defect."

If there had been any less professionalism in Jacob than there was at that moment, he would have sputtered and made a fool of himself. As it stood, it took everything that he had to keep a straight face to avoid giving the game away.

Defection. The Far-Flung Furs were always looking for more informants and traitors from the other side. If nothing else, they always brought information with them, and they were a serious detriment to morale for the enemy. If the Minister of War himself wanted to leave them, though, it would be a major coup for their side, and one that would boost the morale of the rest of the mammal troops for years to come.

"I have to keep up appearances, however. If you can arrange a way out, I can get us a ship. But you must come up with the plan, first. I need to know I have a place to land on the other side before I can do anything...understand?"

Jacob slowly nodded.

"Good. You understand what's happening to you?"

"Hypnosis."

"Yes. It's insidious, and once it gets into you, there's very little that can get it back out. You have to resist it if you want any chance of living a decent life when you get out of here."

"...No way to turn it back?" Bjorn muttered.

"No way. Not that has been found so far."

"That breaks the rules," Jacob muttered. "At least, if we get back, we can nail the Saurian System on that."

"...Yes, you could, but you have to get back first. Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet. But we may. Soon."

"It better be sooner than later. Otherwise, none of us will have any chance of getting out."

"...Understood," Jacob muttered. "I'll have one ready the next time that you come to 'oversee' a session."

Bjorn looked at him, all but raising an eyebrow at the promise. Jacob didn't quite shrug back, but he came close, the understated gesture all he could do. Plans were easy; it was finding a good one that was hard.

But if there was a chance of getting out with a Minister, one that likely had his own shuttle on this ship...Well, that changed things a little bit.

The door opened again, and the Minister stood up straight as the scientists came in. They brought their usual machines, and began hooking them up, with a gel milker hanging from the ceiling and more anal-fuckers to be set up on the floor.

"I will take my leave, scientists. The mammals have been told their fate; ensure that they are well-trained for it," that high voice said before its owner turned to leave.

Indeed, the Minister had told them a lot. There was always the risk that he was lying, of course, but there was every chance that he wasn't. There were plenty of stories of problems higher up in the political machine that the Saurian System used. Plenty of ambitious people, always looking to stab others in the back. This could be motivated by self-preservation as much as any sort of moral disagreement.

And if the Saurian happened to betray them once they got to the shuttle...well, it was two on one. They could handle that, in close quarters. So long as they didn't get any more of the extra training.

The End