Pissing on the Zombie Bitches knows just how to get a sperm sample - Sex Stories

Pissing on the Zombie Bitches knows just how to get a sperm sample

For Becky. Despite the friendly welcome by the doctor - who's name was Shelly as I found out - I soon found out that I was being held prisoner. They gave me a small room with a hospital bed to sleep in and I could wander around the facility as much as I wanted, but all the doors and the few windows were locked, with guards patrolling the outside. The place itself wasn't very large and, on second inspection, seemed to be makeshift put together. It had only two rooms for patients and one examination room, a little office and a few storage rooms and that's it. Since I had nothing else to do, I spend quite a few times going through everything, looking for a way out. There wasn't one. They treated me friendly, the doctor came by frequently to talk, a nurse regularly brought me food and drink... they even had a shower, for god's sake! You never know how much you've missed shampoo until you had to go for three weeks without some. I could literally have killed someone for shampoo by that time. Anyway, except for showering, eating, sleeping and masturbating there wasn't a whole lot to do, and so I spend all the time I had trying to figure out what they wanted from me and how to get out of there. On the second night I was again sneaking around the place, when I heard sudden loud noises coming from the main entrance. There was a hallway that led from there straight to the examination room and so I hurried there, squeezing myself into one of the double lockers they had standing around ...

... there and kept as quite as possible. Through the slits in the locker door I could see two figures in soldier uniform dragging a third, unconscious figure into the room and placing it onto the chair that I had my first encounter with the Doctor Shelly in. They applied straps and then left, leaving the light on. I waited. The person didn't move, but neither did I when they first brought me here, so I didn't think anything about it. He seemed to be a man, dressed in torn jeans, ragged boots and a leather jacket, his face was turned sideways so I couldn't see much except for his hair, which was brown and a little too long to be fashionable, and not long enough to qualify as some kind of subculture. As if that even mattered anymore, I thought. Like so many things, the zombie apocalypse did away with fashions and cultures and anything else we used to define ourselves with before. Footsteps interrupted my musings and out of the corner of my eye I could see Dr. Shelly and the nurse come in. The doctor seemed a little agitated. "Okay," I heard her say, "now pay attention. It's a guy this time, which is especially important. Now we first need a sample, as fresh as possible. Everything else can wait until tomorrow, but this needs to be done fast to see if there's anything we need to be aware of." She stepped in front of the guy and began to unzip his pants, pulling them down just enough to get to his dick easily. Without hesitation she bent down and held it in one hand, while carefully ...