Five O'Clock In The Morning

"Now who would be calling at this hour?" Doris Simmons grumbled as she stepped away from the stove to answer the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen.

"I'll get it, Ma," Emily said as she jumped up from her seat at the breakfast table.

Emily: Hello.
Mrs.Thomas: Emily? This is Martha Thomas. I am sorry to be calling so early, but I figured you would be up getting ready for work. Did y'all see Roger last night? His bed ain't been slept in and the pickup truck is gone.
Emily: No, Mrs. Thomas. Roger wasn't over at all last night. Do you think he's alright?
Mrs.Thomas: I don't know. It ain't like him to stay out all night.
Emily: I know.
Mrs.Thomas: I'm gonna call the Sheriff.
Emily: Let me know if you hear anything?
Mrs.Thomas: Sure thing, honey. Tell your Mama I said hey.

As she slowly sat down at the table, her parents looked at her questioningly. Feeling their eyes on her, she said, "That was Mrs. Thomas. Roger didn't come home last night."

"Oh, no," Doris Simmons replied. "I hope ain't nothing bad happened to him."

Roger Thomas was strapped down in a large reclining chair, one of six in a circle facing each other. All around him were panels with flashing lights, meters and gauges, pipes and duct-works. It was as if he was on a submarine or the cockpit of an airplane, although he was on neither.

He was also naked. With some sort of device strapped across his groin. Wires were taped to his chest and a band was wrapped around his left bicep. One of the women, whose name he had learned was 'Jewelett', came into the room. "Ready for your morning milking?" she asked in that strange, lilting voice of hers. She was an attractive woman, with blonde hair that flowed down around her shoulders.

"What I am really ready for is to be released from here," he answered. "You ladies are gonna be in a pack of trouble when the law finds you."

"We went over all of that last night," she said as she squatted down before an apparatus in the center of the circle formed by the chairs. "Now let's harvest your sperm and afterwards you will be fed and taken to the bathroom."

They had, indeed, discussed all of this last night. Roger was inside a spaceship. From Venus. There were five women onboard. There were no men on Venus, and their supply of frozen sperm had gotten critically low. The mission of the women was to 'collect' more to restock their planet's stockpile.

The whole thing sounded like a hackneyed plot for a cheap Sci-Fi movie. Except it was real. As real as the cylinder encasing his penis. The woman adjusted a couple of knobs and then asked, "Ready?"

She flipped a switch and the apparatus began to hum as the cylinder around Roger's cock pulsated and vibrated. The soft inner tube repeatedly expanded and collapsed, massaging his cock, coaxing it into an erection. Some sort of lubricant oozed through the tiny pinholes lining the tube. The woman carefully watched the meters and when the readings were right, she flipped another switch and the cylinder began to move up and down, the snug inner tube hugging his lubricated shaft.

Roger sighed and took a deep breath as his eyes closed. After a few moments, the woman at the controls flipped another switch that caused a vacuum to be applied to the head of Roger's cock. Her eyes kept flickering from the meters to the face of her writhing, moaning captive. Digging his fingers into the armrests, he rotated his hips as much as the bindings would allow him to.

"Oh, yessss," he groaned, all thoughts of being released temporarily on hold as the device on his crotch literally sucked him off. The only thing missing was a head to clasp onto, for he was on the verge of cumming.

The female operator made a few adjustments to the knobs, increasing the frequency of strokes, tightening the snugness of the inner tube, raising the vacuum level just a tad.

"ARRGGGH!" Roger cried out as the cum burst from the head of his cock to be sucked up by the cap covering the tip of his dick. His body shook and twisted as he pumped out his heavy load of nut-cream.

Deftly the Venusian woman worked the knobs, making minor but frequent adjustments, gradually curtailing the collecting process as her captive's orgasm subsided.

Breathing heavily, Roger lay there basking in the afterglow. If anything, this session was even better than the one he had experienced when he was first brought onboard last night.