Triple Threat Schedule

“This is the schedule,” Tina said finally. “Based on Dr Doe’s current output.”

Four people looked up at the main display in McGee’s lab because it was a schedule for all of them. The basis was a planner for your week with a column for each day. Each row was a segment of hours. You had bed times now, a solid 8 hours each night cycle, shaded grey. If you could sleep.

Any ‘free’ time you had would be in white, but the rest of your calendar was filled with colour. Four main hues indicated different ‘activities’. Green, the most prevalent and most flexible blocks, were marked as ‘Recovery’. The other colours, red, purple and yellow, represented a name. A patient. Wonder Woman, Zatanna and Cheetah, respectively. These were multiple ‘appointments’ for each woman, spaced throughout your day, so that you could provide regular treatment while giving you enough recovery time between each session to produce an effective dosage. There were even times set for you to properly rehydrate, thanks to Sister Eye’s algorithm. Hydration was important.

Wonder Woman had the most slots, given how advanced her addiction was. Four appointments per day for now. Zatanna would need three doses and, despite appearances, Cheetah’s condition would be the most manageable and would only require two doses. That was nine doses, but luckily your loads were voluminous enough that treatment could be provided in five sessions if the girls could share. McGee rubbed the bridge of her nose as the team familiarized themselves with the schedule on the big screen.

Every morning would be dedicated to giving Wonder Woman the first and generally the most potent load. Before breakfast.

A couple of hours later would be Zatanna’s and Cheetah’s turn. A joint dosage, and while the intermission would be a bit brief you knew you had it in you to provide them a hearty shot of cum in that time. Enough to share between two patients.

Later in the day Wonder Woman would get you to herself again. Then a few hours later, she would share you with Zatanna.

The final dose of the night had Wonder Woman and Cheetah double teaming you… so to speak. It was hoped that this schedule would hold up for at least a couple of months, but this was heavily dependent on how the addiction progressed in each patient. Metahuman biology was so unpredictable, McGee would be spending most of her downtime charting patient statistics and trying to rewrite her formulas and to manage everything.

The looming calendar was daunting, even for you. Especially for you. Even the superheroes in the room seemed wary. Tina turned to the only viable donor in the world who had been vetted and deemed reliable enough to supply members of the Justice League. “We’ll start this schedule tomorrow,” she said, handing you an energy bar and a high tech watch. It was basically a tiny ultracomputer, its face a flat circular display. The calendar was loaded and it would probably chime in with helpful reminders for treatment times. “This morning was… well we muddled through it I guess. We will mostly play it by ear today but I will prescribe Diana another dose in a few hours. She will need the full load. No sharing,” the doctor said warningly.

Zatanna and Wonder Woman didn’t even look at each other. “I will keep an eye on Cheetah’s vitals,” McGee continued. “Her morning was quite… strenuous. If she keeps sleeping she may last with that dose until tomorrow.”

You nodded, but already had your mind on the upcoming full load to be given to Diana. You chewed on the dense energy bar thoughtfully.

“Thank you Doctor,” Wonder Woman said, standing. Her eyes then moved to you. “Doctors. I will need to advise Themyscira of my extended leave.”

“I better make some calls too,” Zatanna added, also getting to her feet. It had been agreed that the pair would remain at the Watchtower for the time being. Their absence on Earth would be felt, but apparently some members of the Justice League had offered to pick up the slack. The heroes exited the lab, leaving you alone with the only woman on the station who didn’t need your cum to live. Fortunately. Right?

Daydreams were interrupted when you felt Tina’s hand on your thigh. “How are you feeling?” she asked, then squeezed. You winced, unable to poker face through the pain. “You’re going to have to let me see. Let me make a proper assessment.” The only real qualm you had about showing her your injuries was that you knew standing up was going to be a bit difficult. “John. Take off your shorts,” she said sternly.

“Alright alright,” you sighed, and leaning one hand heavily on the bench you got up without groaning. Tina took your shorts off for you, impatient to make you her patient.

“How long have you been this hard?” she asked, in that familiar clinical voice. Your cock bobbed in front of her face like it was waving at her.

“My body is reacting pretty quickly to sexual stimuli now,” you explained. “This was my body anticipating the schedule.” She nodded, then did her best to ignore your rigid excitement. You grimaced seeing the state of your thighs. It looked worse than it felt, but it would be hard to convince Tina that this wasn’t a problem. The dark bruises blotched around your legs like you were wearing some very oddly designed, crotchless black and blue boxer briefs. There were obvious imprints of Wonder Woman’s fingers where she had her gripped on you. The scratches on your skin weren’t numerous, but McGee clicked her tongue at every nail mark she observed. She ran her own soft fingers over your skin, lightly prodding various muscles to see how you would react. You gritted your teeth and winced where appropriate.

“There’s no way we can unshackle Cheetah for her treatments,” Tina thought out loud. “And I’m thinking we may need to restrain Diana too.” She didn’t say, ‘to be safe’, but the comparison with Cheetah made the implication obvious. Before you could have too many thoughts about tying up Wonder Woman, the doctor grabbed hold of your dick. She leaned in, inspecting your stiff inches with utmost scrutiny. “Your penis looks good,” she said, letting the moment hang as she stared at your cock in her hand. “Your skin is getting a little dry but… no lesions or contusions, even with the constant friction. How’s your sensitivity?” She gave you a couple of strokes as if to let you make a proper assessment before you answered.

“As sensitive as ever,” you said, her grip on you just the perfect amount of pressure. Just the right amount of needy firmness. She let you go a couple of seconds later, her ‘clinical’ evaluation complete, and nodded.

“Well that’s good,” she muttered, turning to distract herself with some graphical output on a monitor. “I’ll think of something for the dryness. A skincare regime perhaps.” It took you a minute to realise you should pull your shorts back up. “Finish that energy bar and get hydrated,” she told you, now focused fully on the screen. “Get the guardians to cook you something nutritious if you can eat.” She shifted in her seat but didn’t turn around. “You’re going to need the fuel.”