You buzz your secretary.

A few moments later, your secretary Melissa walks in. All Breeding Complex employees are chosen by you, from a pool of qualified applicants approved by the governing body. Like all the applicants, she was strikingly attractive, whip-smart and a distinguished graduate of a top tier Breeding school. You weren't entirely sure what went on in those places, but evidently its alumni were sexual experts with a vast working knowledge of human reproduction. The decision to pick Melissa wasn't easy, but after carefully weighing all the relevant factors, you picked her because she had the fattest ass.

She's wearing the standard employee attire; the outfit is really just glorified pajamas designed in such a way that access to key areas is as easy as unsnapping the buttons. The material was a sort of sponge that absorbs any liquid of sufficient thickness. This ensured that a minimum of semen is wasted when spilled on a uniform, and that any part of the uniform can be used to mop up other residue.

Melissa's pajama-uniform was clean and form-fitting as per requirements. Her medium breasts bounced gently as she walked, keeping time with the sway of her particularly wide hips. Despite the fact that she was in direct contact with you almost every day, she was only a class C employee and the light gray color of her uniform indicated this. As well as indicating her rank, the light gray color also signaled another very import property of her contract: she was not allowed to breed with you. Well, strictly speaking, you could breed her any time you want - but a woman of her rank is not allowed to request a breeding session or apply to participate in any breeding activity. The various ranks, and their responsibilities and entitlements of the Breeding Complex were somewhat detailed. By now you had it figured out, but you'd worry about it later.

"Good morning, sir!" she chirps, her face lighting up in a genuine smile. "How did you sleep?"

She was really double checking that you hadn't had a wet dream the monitors missed. The fabric of the bed was made of the same absorbent material as the uniforms, but it's always more efficient to collect the semen directly when possible.

"Really good actually," you reply. "Sleeping alone can be a bit boring but I just felt exhausted the other day."

Melissa frowns slightly. "Ah, yes, they mentioned that. It's good to hear that you're feeling better though! Although, as you know, eight hours without an event is quite lengthy. A full cleaning should be your first priority today."

An event. An event was code for ejaculation induced by any means. Many women's entire careers revolve around measuring the properties of your events - the frequency, quantity of semen produced and so on. A "full cleaning" was a series of events occurring sufficiently close to each other such that you begin to experience a refractory period. Generally, they try to keep you fully cleaned so as to not waste any semen production by your large balls.

I nodded. "You're right, I'll get that taken care of right now."

Melissa's smile widened. "Excellent, sir! How will you proceed?"