Comic by Yetigo
Juro surfaced from the depths of medicated oblivion, awareness trickling back in stages. First came a sense of pressure, of being held immobile and encased in smooth, form-fitting metal. His foggy mind struggled to make sense of the sensation, still disconnected from the trauma his body had endured.
Gradually, other sensations filtered in - a dull, pulsing ache between his legs, a tenderness in his swollen breasts and nipples. Confusion swirled through him as he tried to reconcile these unfamiliar feelings with his foggy memories.
His still hazy vision focused, the curved metal walls of his prison coming into view. With dawning horror, Juro realized he was back in the dreaded containment unit - the metal sarcophagus that had held him captive during the earlier intrusion.
But this time, the metal plates parted, revealing his most sensitive, intimate places to the outside.
The box enclosed him from the neck down, but left his face free. A circular ring had been fitted into his mouth, propped his jaw open and making him drool.
Lower down, twin openings exposed his nipples. The swollen nubs throbbed, the surrounding flesh confined by the snug metal but the tips lewdly on display, vulnerable to any touch.
But worst of all was the window opening at his crotch, showcasing his new pseudo-clit.
Juro shuddered, feeling horrifically exposed. The containment unit had him immobilized, unable to so much as twitch, while presenting his erogenous zones like some kind of depraved art piece.
The door to the lab suddenly whisked open and the familiar glide of Professor Tok's tentacles announced their presence. The alien loomed over Juro's containment unit, their large eye swiveling to examine their captive subject.
"Ah, excellent, you're awake," Tok said, their voice clinically detached as ever. "The surgery was a complete success. We’ve corrected the prolapse and healed the internal damage from the...enthusiastic use you endured."
Juro made a muffled sound of distress around the ring gag.
The professor continued on, either oblivious or uncaring of Juro's inner turmoil. "We'll need to allow some time for healing before beginning the inseminations again," Professor Tok mused. "In the meantime, there are other adjustments we can make to optimize you as a breeding vessel."
The professor tapped at a data pad with one tentacle, pulling up a holographic brain scan. Glowing sections of the neural map pulsed and rotated as Tok manipulated the image.
"The scans indicate that you are still resisting the pain-pleasure connection," he said, swiveling to pin Juro with a cold, appraising stare. "Your higher cognitive functions are clinging to outdated notions of consent and bodily autonomy. This contrasts with the modifications we've made to your nervous system and conditioning."
Juro's heart clenched in dread at the implications. They wanted to break him further, to rewire his very mind until he not only accepted his fate as a breeding slave, but craved it. The idea of losing even his internal rebellion, the last shred of his original identity, terrified him more than any physical torment.
Professor Tok continued casually, as if discussing changes to a toaster setting and not the mental violation of a thinking being. "We will focus on strengthening those neurochemical pathways, to make pain and humiliation register as pleasure.”
The alien cleared its throat importantly. “While you were unconscious, I took the liberty of imparting some of our findings to the University heads. There has also been much interest in your developed ability to lactate. As such, there has been a request, and significant funding, to experiment with production.”
The professor stared at Juro’s distended nipples and rubbed their tentacles together. “There are many species who find human breast milk to be a delicacy. If our trials with you prove successful, we could expand our facility and acquire more specimens for milking.”
“Mmmrrrgghhh!” Juro twisted in his confinement and shook his head. He had entertained a vain hope that if he did as the aliens wanted and somehow got pregnant, then he would be released. But now…
More people would be subjected to this . . . their body’s used as nothing more than dairy cows... human farms . . .Was this never going to end?
"Let's begin," Professor Tok declared.
Juro's eyes widened as three large, wicked-looking needles descended from hatches in the ceiling, the polished metal glinting coldly in the harsh lab lights. They looked more like medieval torture devices than medical equipment, each as long as his forearm and wickedly sharp.
Juro's heart raced as the needles lowered towards his immobilized body, his brain conjuring nightmarish images of being pierced and skewered. A terrified whimper escaped around the ring gag holding his mouth obscenely open.
But to his surprise, the needles halted several inches above his exposed flesh, hovering ominously. Professor Tok manipulated something on the control panel and clear liquid began dripping from the tips of the needles, splattering onto Juro's sensitive buds.
Two of the needles were precisely positioned over his nipples and Juro flinched at the first cold drops, instinctively trying to shy away from the sensation. But there was nowhere to go, his body held immobile by the containment unit. The icy fluid splattered onto the sensitive buds, making them stiffen and pebble almost immediately. Juro shuddered, his over-sensitive nipples sending zings of unwanted pleasure straight to his core.
But the sensation was nothing compared to the torment being inflicted on his newly created pseudo-clit. The third needle dripped its contents directly onto the exposed, swollen nub. Each drip of the chilly liquid felt like a miniature electric shock.
Juro whimpered as more fluid dribbled onto him, pooling in the divots of his nipples and coating his swollen pseudo-clit.
At first there was only the shock of the cold liquid on his private places. But then, a tingling warmth began to spread across his sensitive flesh. It started as a flutter, like a scattering of pins and needles, but rapidly grew into an intense prickling heat that suffused his nipples and clit.
Juro squirmed as much as his bonds allowed, whining at the strange sensation. It wasn't exactly painful but overwhelming, the heat growing until it felt like his most tender parts were being scoured by a thousand tiny mouths. He panted harshly around the ring gag, drool spilling over and down his chin.
As Juro watched in rising alarm, his nipples began to swell and change color under the steady drip of fluid. The dusky pink nubs darkened to an angry red, puffing up like inflamed bee stings. They throbbed in time with his racing pulse, each throb sending a jolt of heat straight to his core.
His pseudo-clit was reacting too. The needy little bud seemed to swell before his eyes, engorging to a size he didn't think was possible.
Professor Tok observed the changes with clinical fascination, tentacles tapping notes into the datapad. "Excellent, the serum is having the desired effect," they commented, eyeball roving over Juro's panting, shuddering form. "Increased vasocongestion in the nipples and clitoris leading to heightened sensitivity and responsiveness."
As the strange liquid continued to drip onto Juro's inflamed nipples and engorged clit, Professor Tok turned and retrieved something from a nearby lab bench. It was a small, wriggling sack made of some semi-transparent membrane. Juro's eyes widened in trepidation as the bag squirmed and undulated in the professor's tentacled grip, clearly containing something alive.
"In addition to its vasocongesting properties, the serum also acts as a potent pheromonal attractant and nutrient solution for these specimens," Professor Tok explained, holding up the writhing sack. With a quick slice of a scalpel, he slit open the bag and upended its contents onto Juro's heaving chest.
Juro shrieked around his ring gag as a wriggling mass of insects tumbled out onto his sensitive skin. They were like pill bugs, each about the size of a thumbnail, with segmented gray exoskeletons and dozens of tiny, skittering legs.
The bugs instantly honed in on the serum-coated peaks of Juro's nipples, swarming over the swollen nubs. Juro thrashed and whimpered as dozens of little feet scrabbled over the tender buds, the bugs jostling and climbing over each other in a feeding frenzy.
Their hard carapaces scraped and scratched the hypersensitive nipples as they fed, lapping up the serum with tiny, rasping mouthparts. Juro sobbed at the intensely overstimulating sensations, tears streaming down his face to mingle with the drool dripping from his propped-open mouth.
But Professor Tok wasn't finished. He upended the bag over Juro's crotch, dumping another writhing mass of pill bugs directly onto his throbbing pseudo-clit.
Juro howled, hips jerking futilely as the insects swarmed over his most sensitive spot, dozens of sharp little legs fluttering over the engorged bundle of nerves. They scraped and scratched at his clit, lapping greedily at the serum that coated it.
The bugs scrambled over and around each other, tiny bodies piling atop Juro's inflamed clit. Their frenzied feeding created a constant, maddening vibration that suffused Juro's entire groin with unwanted pleasure.
Through his haze of revulsion and overstimulation, Juro distantly heard Professor Tok making notes.
"The nutrient serum seems to be an effective attractant, as the ero bugs are eagerly consuming it from the targeted areas. Subject is displaying strong reactions to the tactile stimulation, indicating a significant increase in sensitivity as hypothesized."
Professor Tok made a few final notes on their datapad as he observed Juro's writhing, insect-covered form. The human was clearly in a state of sensory overload, his muffled screams and sobs punctuated by full-body shudders as the pill bugs continued their frenzied feeding on his most sensitive spots.
"I will leave you to acclimate to these new stimuli," Professor Tok said clinically, their eyeball swiveling to meet Juro's tear-filled, pleading gaze. "The nutrient serum will keep the pill bugs fed and active for the next 72 hours. During this time, your body will be conditioned to associate intense tactile stimulation of the nipples and clitoris with both pain and pleasure, strengthening those neural pathways."
Juro whimpered around the ring gag, shaking his head frantically. 72 hours? Three entire days of this relentless, maddening torment? He didn't think he could endure even another minute of the creatures' skittering legs and rasping mouthparts on his inflamed, hyper-sensitized flesh.
Tears poured down his face as he stared beseechingly at the alien professor, desperately trying to convey his distress and silently beg for mercy. But Professor Tok seemed unmoved by Juro's plight, his expression remaining clinically detached.
"I will return to check your progress in three days," Tok said, tentacles already gliding towards the door. "In the meantime, your nutritional needs will be met via a feeding tube to ensure your body remains strong enough to withstand the conditioning."
With that, the professor activated another control on his pad. A panel opened in the ceiling of the containment unit and a long, flexible tube snaked out. Juro's eyes widened in renewed panic as the tube descended towards his face, the end tipped with some kind of nozzle.
Professor Tok's tentacles deftly gripped Juro's head, holding him in place as the tube breached the ring gag and slithered into Juro's mouth. Juro gagged and choked as the nozzle pushed past his tongue and triggered his gag reflex, sliding inexorably down his throat.
He thrashed his head as much as the professor's strong grip allowed, whining and sputtering around the invading tube. But his struggles were futile. The tube continued its violation of his throat, sliding down his esophagus until the nozzle settled somewhere in his stomach. Juro could feel the weight of it inside him, like a snake coiled in his guts.
"There, the feeding tube is in place," Professor Tok said with satisfaction, releasing Juro's head and allowing it to fall back against the containment unit's padded surface. "A nutrient slurry will be dispensed at regular intervals to keep you healthy and hydrated. Simply relax.”
With that chilling remark, the alien turned and glided towards the door. "I will return to assess your progress in 72 hours," he said over his shoulder. "In the meantime, the program will run its course. I look forward to seeing how you adapt."
The door slid shut with a final, damning clang, leaving Juro alone with his torment.
***
72 hours later, the lab door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. Professor Tok glided in, followed by their gaggle of eager students. They gathered around the containment unit, staring with rapt fascination at the sight within.
Juro was barely recognizable as the same man from three days prior. His body shuddered and twitched constantly, wracked with endless waves of unwanted pleasure. The pill bugs still swarmed over his inflamed nipples and engorged clit, their frenzied feeding having never abated. The sensitive nubs were now a dark, angry red, swollen several sizes up. They looked like enormous, overripe berries.
A sheen of sweat coated Juro's skin, mixing with the copious fluids that had leaked from his body over the long hours. Drool painted his chin and neck from where it had dripped past the ring gag. Tear tracks etched his flushed cheeks. His eyes rolled wildly, pupils blown wide and glassy with overstimulation.
Professor Tok activated their datapad, holographic displays popping up to show readings taken from sensors in the containment unit. "As you can see," he lectured to the students, "the subject's vital signs indicate a state of extreme and prolonged arousal. Blood pressure, heart rate, respiration, and temperature are all significantly elevated."
They pointed to another set of readouts with a tentacle. "Neurochemical scans show a marked increase in activity in the pain and pleasure centers of the brain, far exceeding normal human levels. The serum and targeted stimulation have succeeded in rewiring the subject's nervous system to register intense sensation as both pleasure and pain."
The students murmured excitedly, taking notes on their own datapads. They craned their necks to get a better view of Juro's tormented form, eyes alight with academic hunger.
Professor Tok manipulated the controls and the needles retracted back into the ceiling of the containment unit, cutting off the flow of serum. Juro whimpered as the cool liquid abruptly stopped dripping onto his inflamed flesh, leaving him with only the maddening sensations of the feeding pill bugs.
"Let's see how the subject responds to normal stimuli now," Professor Tok said. They reached into the containment unit, wrapping a tentacle around the feeding tube that snaked past Juro's ring gag and down his throat. With a swift, clinical motion, they pulled the long tube free of Juro's mouth and esophagus.
Juro convulsed at the sudden intrusion, his throat spasming around the tube as it slithered up his gullet. His eyes rolled back in his head and his whole body went rigid. Then, to the surprise of the watching students, his hips bucked and his pseudo-clit visibly pulsed as a clear fluid squirted from the engorged nub, splattering the interior of the containment unit
Professor Tok's cycloptic eye widened in surprise as their subject’s body experienced a climax just from the removal of the feeding tube. Intrigued, they reached into the containment unit again and brushed a tentacle lightly over one swollen, insect-covered nipple.
Juro shrieked, back arching as much as his bonds allowed. The light touch on his hyper-sensitized bud sent lightning bolts of pleasure-pain sizzling through his nerve endings. His hips jerked and another spurt of clear fluid squirted from the human’s faux clit.
"Fascinating," Professor Tok mused, prodding the nipple again and eliciting another full-body reaction from Juro. "The subject is displaying a hair-trigger response. Even the lightest stimulation seems to catapult him into climax."
The students murmured excitedly, craning their necks to get a better view of Juro's twitching, over-stimulated body.
Professor Tok tapped their pad, the containment unit hissing open. The metal plates retracted, finally freeing Juro's limbs and torso from their strict confinement. The pill bugs scattered, skittering away into the shadows of the lab.
Juro gasped as cool air hit his sweat-damp skin. His arms flopped weakly at his sides, muscles cramped and unresponsive after so long imprisoned. But after a moment, his hands drifted up, seemingly of their own accord, to hover over his heaving chest.
Juro whimpered, eyes glassy and unfocused as his fingers brushed over his inflamed nipples. Even that light contact sent sparks through him and he mewled, hips undulating.
Almost in a trance, Juro began to pinch and roll the tender buds, gasping and shuddering. He tugged at his nipples, pulling them away from his body before releasing them to bounce back, the sting blending deliciously with the intense sensation.
His other hand slid down his sweat-slick body to his crotch, unerringly finding his new piece of anatomy. The moment his fingers pressed against his pleasure button, Juro began humping against his hand like a horny rabbit.
He rubbed quick, frantic circles over the slippery nub, every rasp of his fingers sending shockwaves of ecstasy through him. His hole clenched, gushing slick to soak the padded table beneath him.
Juro was too far gone to care about his audience, lost in a haze of desperate need. All higher thought was drowned out by the throbbing, urgent demands of his rewired body. He needed more, harder, now!
Juro's fingers flew over his hyper-sensitized flesh, pinching and rolling, slapping and twisting, rubbing and tugging. His hips bucked and writhed on the padded table, undulating in time with his desperate ministrations. More! More!
Shame and humiliation were distant concepts, burned away by the scorching urgency of his body's demands.
Faster and faster his fingers flew, chasing release after release. His screams and cries grew louder, more frantic, until they disappeared altogether and while his mouth was thrown open in bliss, no sound emerged.
Professor Tok and the students watched in fascination as Juro lost himself to mindless pleasure, his lithe body gleaming with sweat, muscles straining as he worked himself into a frenzy. The wet sounds of his frantic fingering filled the room, obscene and filthy.
Each time he came, Juro shook and spasmed through the intense peak, his body wracked with the force of his release.
But his reprieves were short lived. Within moments, before the afterglow had even begun to fade, Juro's hands started to move again, drifting back to his oversensitized nipples and clit as if magnetized. He whimpered as his fingers brushed the tender flesh, the sensation toeing the line between pleasure and pain.
But he couldn't seem to stop himself, his body craving stimulation like a junkie craving his next hit. Almost outside his own volition, Juro began to pinch and roll his sore nipples, gasping at the sharp sting. His other hand found his pseudo-clit, still throbbing and swollen, and began to rub shaky circles over the slick nub.
Juro sobbed brokenly, hips already starting to undulate despite the overstimulation. Arousal began to build again in his gut, hot and insistent, even as his body trembled with exhaustion and overuse. He was insatiable, a creature of pure need, stripped of all higher cognition beyond the pursuit of pleasure.
Juro's fingers drifted lower, past his throbbing nubbin, seeking the wet heat of his altered hole. But instead of sinking into slick, welcoming folds, his questing digits met resistance. Juro whined in confusion, probing harder, but his fingertips only skated over a line of neat, surgical stitches sealing his slit closed.
Professor Tok noticed Juro's distress and glided over, tentacles reaching out to probe the human's altered anatomy. "Ah yes, we had to seal your opening to allow the internal tissues to heal after your last session. And to give the sperm from the students adequate time to potentially fertilize your newly created ova."
Juro's eyes widened, a flicker of awareness penetrating the fog of desperate arousal. That's right, before the container, before the insects, the students had all taken turns with him, pumping their alien seed into his reformed womb. A full body shudder wracked him at the memory of being passed around, mounted and filled over and over until semen sloshed in his belly with every movement.
Professor Tok continued clinically, "We will examine you to check for successful implantation. If conception has occurred, we will monitor the fetal development. If not, we will make adjustments to your hormone levels and the breeding bench to optimize your fertility before the next insemination session."
Juro whimpered. The idea of being pregnant, his body distorted even further to incubate an alien parasite…it should horrify him. Juro looked down at his belly.
Baby?
Juro looked into the crowd of alien students and imagined that one or more of them would manage to impregnate him with their offspring. Juro’s hips rolled instinctively, as if trying to lure one of the alien studs closer.
The professor manipulated a control and the padded table hummed, shifting and retracting into a new configuration. Juro yelped as he was abruptly repositioned into a presenting pose on his hands and knees.
Cool metal bands snaked out, encircling Juro's wrists and ankles. He struggled instinctively, but the restraints held fast, locking him into position. He was splayed open, his sealed hole on display.
The professor’s tentacles gently parted Juro's cheeks, exposing his sewn-up opening. “We shall assess the state of the subject's rectal passage post-surgical modification and accelerated healing."
Professor Tok carefully snipped the stitches sealing the orifice shut, pleased to note minimal scarring of the delicate tissues. He probed the pink, glistening folds with a clinical touch, assessing the elasticity.
"Remarkable," Professor Tok mused, probing the seam with gentle tentacles. "The nanite-laced surgical thread has done an exemplary job of knitting the tissues back together. The external sphincter appears fully restored."
The professor turned to their students. "Prepare an enema solution. We need to thoroughly cleanse the rectal cavity before the endoscopic examination."
The students scurried to obey, filling a large bag with warm saline solution. They attached a long, flexible hose to the bag, the end tipped with a smooth nozzle.
Professor Tok took the nozzle from their assistant and carefully pressed it against Juro's opening. The human whimpered.
“Now, now,” Professor Tok said, stroking Juro’s rump. “You’re doing so well. Focus on the pleasure.”
With steady pressure, the nozzle slipped past the tight ring of muscle, sinking deep into Juro's rectum. The tube snaked into his body, pushed further until it was deep in Juro’s bowels. Professor Tok nodded to one of the students who opened the valve on the enema bag, allowing the warm solution to flow.
Juro moaned as the fluid rushed into his body, his belly growing heavy.
The professor massaged Juro's rounded belly, encouraging the solution to work its way deep into the human's bowels. Juro panted and whimpered, feeling bloated and strangely floaty as the warm liquid sloshed inside him.
After several long minutes, Professor Tok closed the valve, halting the flow. "Hold it in now," he instructed Juro. "We need to let the solution fully saturate your system for optimal cleansing."
Juro groaned, clenching desperately around the nozzle still lodged in his rectum. His abdomen cramped and gurgled, the urge to expel growing more urgent with each passing second. Sweat beaded on his brow as he fought his body's instincts.
Finally, just when Juro thought he couldn't bear it a moment longer, Professor Tok swiftly removed the nozzle. Juro cried out as the fluid rushed out of him in a gush, his overstretched hole gaping and twitching. The professor's assistants quickly cleaned him up, wiping away the mess with clinical efficiency.
"Good, very good," Professor Tok said approvingly, eyeing Juro's pink, gleaming opening. "Now he's ready for the endoscopic examination. Prepare the equipment."