Your shift is soon over.

You spend half the day getting fucked in the stocks.
Hours of anonymous Employees reaming your holes and filling you up with cum. You manage to zone out and loose all track of time. Above you, the counter ticks up after every load you take. 20. Only twenty? BB is on number forty. Lucky little twink...

The buzzer sounds overhead. Shifts over.
You feel the cuffs around your ankles unlock and the divider around your waist retracts. You pull in your legs and attempt to massage the feeling back into them. Thick gobs of cum ooze out of your pussy. Employees are supposed to clean up after themselves when they use you guys but there is no real way to enforce that rule so you always end up really messy after a shift in the stocks.
"Oof. That's a lot." BB says sympathetically.
"Yeah, no kidding." You say back.
"Want me to clean you up?"
"No, no, I'll be okay."
"Alright. See ya later!"
BB practically skips down the hall, following the other males to their wing of the complex. Females like you weren't allowed in the male wing. And they weren't allowed in your wing. It's to keep the test conditions pure or something.

The ladies slowly trickle out of the room, each one replaced by a new girl just coming onto this assignment. You wave at 66, your neighbor. She has some kind of fluorescent green goo flowing out of her pussy and ass. When you ask her about it, she says that they're testing some new kind of animal super-soldier, (some kinda wolfman hybrid) and they are trying to get it to breed with humanoids. Sounds like a fun assignment! You have to remember to put in a request for that.

Each of you checks in with Warden Unam, to officially log your numbers with the central data registry and receive any additional assignments for today.
As Unam logs your count, He checks your log.
"You've got another test today, 12."