Valentines Day Virus
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The Y-Virus Ch. 04 free porn video
The following story is entirely fictitious. Any similarity to any persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and unintentional. All characters depicted in sexual acts and scenarios are at least eighteen years of age or older. The following story contains aspects of BDSM, CBT (cock and ball torture), femdom, forced orgasms, tease and denial, prostate stimulation, anal sex, ass worship, sex with machines, and much more. If any of these categories don’t appeal to you then I strongly suggest you don’t read the following story and find something else more suited to your tastes. You have been warned!
*****
The Y-Virus
Chapter Four: The Tour
I lost track of how long I was staring through my window. It wasn’t until there was a knock on my door that I turned my attention away from it.
‘Yes. Who is it?’
‘Dr. Nancy Weller, microbiologist, and Kristine Lane, armed forces. We have some clothes here for you, Mr. Barber.’ A voice replied.
‘Come in.’
I was beyond caring to cover myself up at this point. Every part of my body was already seen and inspected by now. Two women came into the room carrying cardboard boxes. I recognized Dr. Weller, but I’d never seen the other woman before. She had a rather husky build and was able to carry two boxes of clothes easy. The women put the boxes on the floor next to my bed and opened them.
Dr. Weller was a woman that I’d later learn to be fifty-four. She aged rather gracefully, but, in my opinion, was average in appearance. She only looked at my genitals for a brief moment. She had a professional demeanor similar to Dr. Miller, yet she didn’t seem to carry it into every aspect of her job. Over time I would become rather fond of her, not sexually, but in the sense that she was sort of like a mother figure to most of the people inside the CDC.
Kristine Lane, on the other hand, wore military fatigues with a holster on her belt that housed what appeared to be some kind of laser pistol. Akira told me that she was one of Dr. Miller’s scouts and she certainly had the look of a woman who knew how to survive in any situation. She paused for a moment when she saw me. Her eyes widened. I knew I was the first man she’d seen in nearly three years, but, judging from her appearance, I didn’t think she was interested in men. She had short brown hair and, to put it bluntly, she looked like a lesbian to me with her butch stature. When she looked at my crotch I could tell she had some interest in my body. In truth, Kristine was bisexual.
I couldn’t help but notice both these women wearing the same wrist remote that Akira wore. I was still surprised even though Akira told me that all the women wore one.
Dr. Weller helped remove the medical electrodes from my body and handed them to Kristine. Afterwards, I rummaged through the boxes and most of the clothes were either too big or too small. I did end up finding two pairs of shorts, a pair of blue jeans, four shirts, sox, and some boxer shorts I could fit into. I put on a pair of boxers, the blue jeans, and a black t-shirt with two small white stripes running across the chest.
Dr. Weller said, ‘Now that that’s been taken care of, I’ve been charged with the task of giving you a tour of the CDC and all the quarantined areas that are safe for you to be in. Would you follow me, please?’
‘Sure thing.’ I said.
I followed Dr. Weller down the corridor with Kristine close behind. The corridor was well lit and very clean. We stopped in front of a door marked 85-D. She opened the door and informed me that this was the room where all the men will be thawed out from cryogenic stasis. It was a large room. There were six cryogenic chambers up against one wall. These chambers were guarded by two other women with laser rifles slung over their shoulders and wearing military fatigues much like Kristine’s. Two of the chambers were empty and four were occupied by men I couldn’t have known, but could see the faces of. Dr. Weller told me that the cryogenic chambers of the other sixteen men were located elsewhere in the building. In the middle of the room I saw the table where I’d been laid down the day before. Suddenly, I remembered having my balls examined by the testicle scanners here. I shuddered.
Dr. Weller noticed my shutter and asked what was wrong.
I simply said, ‘Nothing.’
After room 85-D, I was directed back to the hallway and was taken to a massive cafeteria. Apparently it was close to the end of a scheduled lunch period because there were five adult women sitting at different tables. Each of these women had a group of anywhere from six to nine young girls in their company. The girls ranged anywhere from three years old to twelve. When we entered the room, the women and girls turned and saw us. They all stopped eating and all eyes fell on me. I didn’t know what to do. My brain just started working on some basic motor function, so I just lifted my hand . . . and waved.
Almost all at once the younger girls stood from their chairs and ran up to me, but stopped at a distance of about ten feet when the adult women in the cafeteria told them to settle down. They were obviously excited, and yet nervous about me. I can only imagine what was going on in their minds.
Dr. Weller spoke to the group of women and young girls in a clear voice, ‘Yes! Yes! Everyone calm down, please. We told you all that we’d show you a man as soon as we were able to do so. This is Mr. Ryan Barber. He’s the first of twenty-two males we’ve been able to bring here. You won’t see much of him, but we wanted you all to have the chance to see the truth: we have a chance to save humanity. There is light at the end of this dark tunnel.’
Dr. Weller allowed each of the women and girls to greet me. I smiled and said hello to each of them as they passed me in a single file line. The grown women were particularly emotional. Three of the five women even cried a little when they stood in front of me. They all reluctantly went back to finish their meals. They were so excited that it took longer for them to finish their food than it should have. Occasionally they would look over their shoulders at me before whispering amongst themselves.
‘I imagine you’re quite hungry, am I right?’ Dr. Weller said with some kindness.
It was funny, I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until she said something. ‘Yeah, I’m famished actually.’
‘This way,’ Dr. Weller said with a gesture to the food storage room.
Once inside, I saw scores of shelves stocked with canned food, dehydrated meals, and countless jugs and canteens of water. I asked Dr. Weller if the food and water had any chance of being contaminated with the Y-Virus. She assured me they couldn’t have been. She said the food had been taken from bulk warehouses and tested in the lab for any trace of the virus by Dr. Miller and herself. The water had been filtered multiple times and also tested for the virus. I looked around at the thousands of cans and packets for a few minutes. I spotted a can of New England clam chowder and grabbed it (I don’t know why, but it was the only thing that sounded appealing to me at the time).
I sat in the cafeteria with my food. Dr. Weller and Kristine joined me. They both decided on chicken noodle soup. We began to talk more causally with one another as we ate.
‘Thanks for helping me, Dr. Weller.’ I said after a couple spoonfuls of chowder.
‘Helping you with what, my friend?’
‘You helped bring me out of stasis. A part of me was worried when I had the procedure done that I might never wake up. I just wanted to say that I appreciate your efforts, Dr. Weller.’
‘You’re welcome. And you can call me Nancy when were together like this.’ She smiled.
‘Thank you . . . Nancy.’
‘I just wish I could figure out a way to make a vaccine to the virus. We came pretty close a few times, but to no avail.’
‘You’re too hard on yourself, Nancy,’ K
ristine said, ‘Based on what I’ve heard around here, you’ve tried harder than anyone else to put an end to that crazy bitch’s virus.’
‘I don’t like to brag, but . . .’ Nancy said with a roll of her eyes and a shrug of her shoulders.
I decided to ask Kristine a few questions. She was the first woman I’d seen that wasn’t a doctor or scientist, and she stood out a lot for that reason. ‘Can I ask you a few things, Ms. Lane?’
‘Shoot.’
‘Which branch of the military did you serve in, you know, before the shit hit the fan?’
‘U.S. Army, infantry, forty-ninth battalion. I was actually given my discharge papers a few weeks before the Y-Virus creeped its ugly head up.’
‘Damn! What are the odds, huh?’ I said.
‘No kidding. But if there’s one thing the military taught me it’s to always remain vigilant. I resolved to stay strong when I knew what was happening in the world. And now, I find myself working for another strong and vigilant woman: Dr. Miller.’ She raised a cup of water as if to give a toast.
I raised my cup with her.
‘How many years did you serve in the army?’
‘Four years. General discharge,’ She said before having a spoonful of soup.
‘That’s cool. I thought about joining the navy for a little while, but I really didn’t want to separate myself from my girlfriend.’
‘I can relate to that.’ Kristine said. ‘I had to leave my girlfriend Trisha behind when I joined the military. But we kept in touch via Tele-Link.’
Kristine and I continued talking for quite some time. She asked me about what the world was like in my time period, what jobs I worked before freezing myself, what my friends and family were like, etcetera. I asked her about what major events happened in the world since I was frozen, what kind of technology existed before the Y-Virus made its appearance, and what the world was like outside the CDC walls. She went into painstaking detail about the world outside my window once the other women and girls left the cafeteria (and waved ‘goodbye’ to me).
Kristine told me about how most of the surviving women formed groups and tried to rebuild their own versions of civilization. Some were able to maintain their humanity with some difficulty, while others regressed into little more than violent beasts and wild animals (these were Kristine’s choice of words, not mine). She explained that the rules of the outside world were now very different than the rules inside the CDC. It was hard for her to confess, but she found herself in hard situations where she had no choice but to kill a few women and even a teenage girl when they attempted to kill her and the scouts under her command, and steal their supplies. I could tell she didn’t like talking about it, but she wanted me to know the truth of the new world and how dark it had become. Even though she was very tough and had no real choice, she still felt remorse for having to kill those other women.
She made it crystal-clear to me that the structure, order, and comforts that we were all enjoying were mostly thanks to Dr. Miller’s leadership and Dr. Weller’s assistance and advice. They were the only two original scientists left (and in Dr. Miller’s case, also a medical doctor) that worked in the CDC before the Y-Virus claimed the men of the world, and so, they took it upon themselves to lead inside these walls. No one who was granted permission to share in the protection of the facility could deny them the right to lead. They knew this building and the technology within better than anyone. If there was any hope for the future of the human race, it rested with the men’s ability to produce sperm, and with Dr. Miller and Dr. Weller’s small team of researchers to create a vaccine.
When Kristine finished telling me all this, Nancy was writing in a notepad. I took notice of this and asked what she was writing. Nancy told me that she kept notes of all her ideas on how to create a potential vaccine. She said not to get my hopes up too easily, though. She hated to admit it, but she had nearly fifty different ideas and none of them worked yet. She informed me of the male tissue samples in the lab which were used to determine if a vaccine could work.
I encouraged her in her note taking and she thanked me for my kind motivation. The truth was: she didn’t need my encouragement. She knew the stakes all too well. She told me of how countless women had flooded into sperm banks immediately after the Y-Virus killed all the males, and about how all the male babies born still died from traces of the virus still lingering in the world. It was sad because the incubation period of the Y-Virus is six weeks, and so the baby boys died six weeks after birth. This made many women lose hope. The thought of millions of baby boys dying in their mother’s arms was too dark and too powerful for me. But this also brought up another question.
I asked Nancy, ‘If baby boys are still dying after the initial appearance of the virus, then what purpose would collecting my sperm serve now?’
‘Our plan is to allow women to become pregnant within the quarantined areas of this facility. They would have to agree to stay in our quarantine until they give birth. The male offspring will have to be kept in quarantine until we can give them a vaccine . . . assuming we can create one.’
‘I see.’
‘In addition, there are quite a few other quarantined areas in this part of the country. But the women in these other facilities don’t have the means to gather and maintain cryogenic chambers, let alone the resources to revive men from stasis. Since this is the case, we’ll be distributing some of the sperm samples to them in the hopes that maybe if they can create a vaccine before we do, they can start repopulating the earth straight away. This is why we’ll need a steady supply from each of you boys while you’re here.’
‘That sounds like a dream job to me.’ I said with a devilish/boyish smile.
Nancy curled her lips a little at the comment, but her voice didn’t fully match the expression on her face when she said, ‘Maybe . . . maybe not.’
Dr. Weller finished her notes and soup. We gave the dishes to one of the women that worked as a volunteer in the CDC (later I’d learn her name was Tabitha, or ‘Tabby Cat’ to most of the women in the building). She winked at me and I smiled back. I could tell she thought I was handsome, but I kept myself in check since she also wore a wrist remote. I thought she was kind of cute with her rust-colored hair and freckles that decorated the tops of her cheeks. I thought of the stereotypical farmer’s daughter when I first saw her. The only thing she was missing was the ponytail and overalls.
Nancy and Kristine led me to a few more rooms that were supply rooms and recreational areas for everybody to use. There was a Ping-Pong table, a library, a chessboard, a dozen other board games, and a few other amenities in the recreation room.
She then showed me the generator room where all the power to run the facility came from. There were three other women in this room. Two wore military fatigues and, like the women in room 85-D, had laser rifles slung over their shoulders, the third woman was working hard on one of the dozens of generators. Nancy explained that there was enough power here to keep the CDC running efficiently for another eight to ten years, but they were glad to have somebody who knew how to fix and recharge them if needed. She whistled to the working woman.
The working woman turned and waved to us, and, like the other females, became overwhelmed by the sudden presence of a male. She clearly wasn’t expecting me or any other man to be here. Nancy gave her the same speech that was given to the other women and girls in the cafeteria. I greeted the woman working on the generator and learned her name was Amy Hocke. She was very nice, yet flabbergasted by my sudden appearance. I couldn’t blame her in the slightest.
After the usual pleasantries and greetings, we l
eft the generator room and made our way to the decontamination chamber. The chamber was on the first floor, so we had to take an elevator to get there (we could’ve taken the stairs, but there was no need to). It was a large antechamber made of very thick glass. It rested between the main room where we stood and another separate room on the opposite end with double doors that lead into an unknown area . . . well, unknown to me. The decontamination chamber had multiple hoses running from every which way. She explained that the middle antechamber was where all people from outside the building had to be decontaminated of any trace of the Y-Virus. Hanging next to the door of the antechamber, facing us, was a sign with a biohazard symbol and bold letters painted neatly under the symbol. It read:
NO MALES BEYOND THIS POINT
I had no intention of ever disobeying the sign. Nancy didn’t bother to point it out either. She knew it was all very obvious.
She turned and led me out of the room. We walked down another series of corridors and passed a pair of other scientists along the way. They, of course, looked and smiled at me before talking amongst themselves in hushed tones and looking over their shoulders. I couldn’t help but feel a little like a celebrity.
When we reached the end of the final corridor, we turned right and I saw a short hallway that only extended about thirty feet or so. At the end of this corridor were two very large steel doors. Spray-painted onto these doors, with the help of large stencils and yellow paint, were the words:
NO MALES BEYOND THIS POINT
Y-VIRUS SAMPLES CONTAINED WITHIN
Again, I didn’t need any explanation. Nancy Weller just turned her head to me and said, ‘Need I say more?’
‘No, ma’am.’
‘I didn’t think so. But I should inform you that this is where Dr. Miller, Dr. Gorzinski, Dr. Stills, and I work to try and synthesize a vaccine to the virus.’
‘Gotcha.’
‘Come along,’ she made a gesture to me, ‘There’s still more rooms I have to show you, including the most important room for you and the other men.’ With that she turned and walked back the way we came. I followed with Kristine next to me.
We went back into the elevator and went up two floors. After passing a long hallway, we reached the first room Nancy wanted to show me on this floor, 30-C. Under the room’s number were the words: Sperm Storage.
She opened the door and there was another pair of female guards inside. Like the other guards, they carried laser rifles over her shoulders, but each also possessed a laser pistol in the holster of their belts. This room was noticeably cooler. Three freezers were located against the walls of the room, and a larger one sat in the middle of the room. Nancy told me about how the samples would be kept here, but that I, as well as the other men, won’t be permitted to come inside here that much. She said that she was only showing me this particular room to show that our seed would be well tended to. There was no need for us to be in here . . . only our sperm.
I put my hands up in mock surrender, ‘Hey, that’s fine by me. To tell you the truth, I’m not so keen about being around other guys’ jizz anyway.’
‘Jizz?’ Kristine asked behind me, ‘I take it that’s a slang term for what they used to call it in your time?’
‘One of many.’
‘Ah. I guess we learn something new every day.’ Kristine said with a shrug.
After the sperm storage room, I was led down to the offices and quarters of the doctors and scientists. The offices had some high-tech equipment inside that I didn’t know the function of, but Nancy did tell me there was once far more technology in these offices, yet many of these things were lost and unavailable after so many people died so suddenly from the Y-Virus. She told me about how even millions of women were killed when the virus came along, but not by the virus itself. They died in hover vessel, car, and hyper-jet crashes, or other various ways that involved men being at the wheel or controls of such things when the virus claimed their lives.
Lesley
- 23.03.2022
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