Greet the Sleepy Scientist

“Good morning, Dr McGee,” you said brightly as the groggy woman slowly raised her head from the console and sat up. She blinked sleepily at you, wiping the drool from her face with her arms, a lot of her long black hair still in her face. She swept it back and murmured a return greeting, rubbing her eye irritably.

“What time is it?” she wondered, looking around the lab at a squint.

“About 7:30,” you told her, to which she half nodded, half yawned, stretching her arms and arching her back. This pushed her chest out a little and you noticed now that she hadn’t been wearing a bra either, thanks to the thin material of her top.

“Guardian 669, coffee please,” she called out, to which the robot at the door popped its head in, beeped affirmatively, then hovered away. “Did you have breakfast yet?” Tina asked you, and you nodded. “Good, we should do more tests. Always more tests,” she said, taking her labcoat off the chair next to her and setting it down on a nearby console. “Take a seat.”

You sat down next to her as she casually adjusted the hem of her skirt then swiped at the panels in front of her and started fingering the holographic keyboard. “A few questions to start,” began the scientist, stifling a yawn in her fist. “In my files it says you normally ejaculate twice a day, with full volume ejaculate. Is that correct?”

“Well it’s not that loud,” you cracked, wondering if Tina was a morning person. She frowned at her screen for a moment then after a moment grunted. It was close to a laugh, then she gave you a look and waited for a real answer. You smiled and leaned in a bit closer to see the record of you up on the screen. “That’s old data,” you noted. “I’m able to provide three full loads a day most days. Yesterday I stretched for four.”

The typing stopped right at the end of your update and the doctor’s eyes became more alert.

“Four? Those last two doses were after you already ejaculated twice, earlier that day?” she remembered, sounding the slightest bit awed. “Those were big...uh… loads.”

“Well... to be honest I held that third load back just a little, knowing how much volume I can produce these days,” you admitted. “Since you said Wonder Woman required two doses I tried my best to split it. The final load would not have been as large as the third, but I find the treatment has a psychological as well as a physiological component.”

She started typing again, nodding.

“Okay. That’s still very impressive I have to say.” Then she was silent for a while as she kept writing notes. In the lull you decided to inquire about the patient.

“How is she doing?”

“Diana is very well this morning,” Tina said, eyes still on her screen. “Your treatment was extremely effective. Best I’ve seen. I apologise for my lack of faith last night, it had been a very stressful week.” You shrugged, understanding her plight. The doctor brought up a second screen that had a big WW symbol on it and various vital signs and datapoints tracked and she went on. “We have her wearing a small sampler that will check her blood every two hours. So far everything is looking remarkably stable. It appears she was already up at before 5am this morning. She’s the first Amazon afflicted so a lot of this is based on guesswork from other metahumans, but she seems to be able to maintain normal body and brain activity after a long rest even if her last load was several hours ago. And so far your semen is still doing the trick. Markers are low. Energy is high. At this rate she might be able to go the whole day without needing a dosage.”

You tried to not let the disappointment show in your reaction but somehow your body language must have given it away. “If she feels anything strange or starts to have a craving she’ll communicate back to the tower and we’ll boom her up,” she added, as if for your benefit.

“Boom her up?” you asked, unfamiliar with the term and wondering if she just had a very odd accent for very specific words.

“Boom tube teleportation,” she explained. “That’s how you were brought here. Sorry I forgot you were still a civilian up until yesterday. It’s borrowed technology that Cyborg managed to convert for use with the Watchtower.” After letting that sink in you nodded.

“Cool.”

“Indeed. Now… ah, thank you Guardian 669. Now, you’re fully rested yes, Doctor Doe?” she asked you before lifting her fresh mug of hot coffee to her face, taking a luxurious sniff followed by a long sip. “ Mmmm… that’s good coffee...“

“Yeah, bed was surprisingly comfortable,” you replied.

“Good. If all goes well today, Diana won’t need another treatment for at least several hours,” she said. “So let’s do some tests. I want to measure the exact volume of a full load of ejaculate from you. A full load. No holding back. Got it?” Her seriousness made you swallow, and you supposed the revelation that you were able to hold onto some of your cum during an orgasm made her especially adamant about it.

“Got it,” you said, giving her a small salute. She pursed her lips at the action then handed you a long glass tube with a flared opening and a larger spherical base. This thing could contain a couple of litres of cum, you guessed. You wondered what expectations she had for you. Then she got up, collected shoes off the floor and her coat in one arm and headed for the door.

“Just call out when you’re done,” she said, and the distracting sight of her underwear hanging out of her coat pocket almost prevented you from responding right away.

“What? Just… right here by myself?” you asked her, quickly getting to your feet.

She paused by the door and frowned at you.

“Of course by yourself,” she answered, the frown deepening.

“No I mean… without any… materials or anything? Can I use these to logon to a website or something?” you tried, gesturing to the myriad computer screens.

“Oh. You’re not allowed access to the internet I’m afraid,” she said, though she seemed to recognize the problem now. “Hmm.”

She took a drink of coffee but was watching you carefully as she thought about how to resolve the issue. “Look, I’m not going to stand here to watch you... do your thing,” she said, appearing adamant in that assertion. “I don’t care if that sort of stuff gets you off quicker. Yesterday was only because it was an emergency.”

“I understand,” you said, though if you thought back on it things weren’t really as simple as that.

“How about,” she started, taking another thoughtful sip, “I get Guardian 669 to assist you? 669!” She called to it again and the floating robot drifted into the room.

“Yes Dr McGee?” asked the robot in its digitized voice.

“Are you able to assist Dr Doe in extracting his ejaculate?” she enquired. The faceless android barely needed a moment to compute an answer and moved further into the room.

“That should not be a problem, Doctor McGee,” it said, then it raised its hands, articulating its fingers in very smooth, human like movements. You stared at the thing. Granted, the robot’s hands actually looked like they were made from some sort of flexible, possibly soft, synthetic material, and you had seen others work rather dexterously in the kitchen. But getting a robot to help you jerk off was not the easiest idea to get into. Well it was better than nothing right?