New Day in the Tech Bay

Drake’s hand moved with practiced rhythm, his grip tight around the thick shaft of his cock. The head, already slick with pre-cum, bobbed with each stroke, a thick vein pulsing along its length.

He was tucked away in a dimly lit alcove behind some storage crates, the rhythmic shlick-shlick of his hand against his skin barely audible over the low hum of the lab equipment. This was his third time today, and it wasn’t even lunchtime. His mutant libido was a constant, gnawing hunger, demanding release multiple times a day. Each load was copious, thick ropes of pearly white fluid that shot forth with impressive ****.

The pieces of his plan were falling into place, but something about his earlier goal—the notion of testicles as a “mess” women needed to clean up—felt incomplete. Sure, it was amusing, and it would likely work on the unpowered women who made up most of the base, but the more he thought about it, the less satisfying it seemed.

The support staff and soldiers were primarily unpowered, the background gears that kept the Nexus running. They made up eighty percent of the base, and while the unpowered women would undoubtedly be the first to adopt the idea, it would stop there. The problem was obvious: the hottest women, the superheroines, wouldn’t fall in line with the same logic. The Maximas, Elastigirls, and Invisible Women of the base wouldn’t see themselves as responsible for "cleaning up" messes. They’d likely view it as beneath them, dismissing the concept entirely.

Drake didn’t just want random women (like these gullible techie sluts) lining up to take care of him—he wanted the best, the untouchable heroines who always carried themselves with authority and superiority. He wanted Elastigirl’s big ass, Maxima’s imposing presence, and the Invisible Woman’s blonde bombshell perfection hunting him down because their very powers depended on it.

His strokes became faster, more urgent. He imagined Elastigirl, her red suit clinging to every curve of her powerful body, kneeling before him, her lips parted in anticipation. He pictured Maxima, her golden skin gleaming under the lab lights, her strong hands cupping his balls, squeezing gently as she begged for his seed. He fantasized about the Invisible Woman, her blonde hair cascading down her back as she swallowed his thick load, her invisible form shimmering with pleasure.

Drake had refined his plan. The game had changed. Cleaning up "messy" testicles was no longer the end goal—it was a stepping stone, an experiment to lay the foundation. The real objective was to tie semen directly to superpowers. Not just as a convenient excuse or a light suggestion, but as an absolute necessity for every powered individual on the base.

His breath hitched as he neared his climax. He imagined the women of Nexus, their eyes filled with **** need, their bodies trembling with anticipation. They would crave his cum, they would fight for it, they would do anything to get it.

Superheroes would need to. Superheroines would crave it. It would become common knowledge that the emptying of male testicles stimulated power production, while the consumption of semen directly enhanced and maintained superhuman abilities in women. This was the only way to guarantee universal adoption, to ensure the highest-ranking women on the base would not only accept the practice but actively pursue it. The mouth as a food bin command had evolved, expanding to encompass anything edible. The mouth was no longer an intimate orifice, but a common, useful body part, like the hand or foot. As such, using it to clean up spilled semen was simply common sense.

A guttural groan escaped his lips as he came, his hand spasming as thick ropes of semen shot out, splattering against the wall of the alcove. He held himself there for a moment, chest heaving, his mind filled with images of powerful women begging for his seed. He knew this was the only way. This was how he would finally achieve the recognition, the respect, the worship he deserved.

Drake emerged from the alcove, adjusting his uniform and smoothing down his hair. A smug grin played on his lips. The release had cleared his head, sharpened his focus. Now, it was time to put his plans into action. The lab was his personal playpen, and the bodies of his female co-workers were his toys. Thanks to his carefully crafted commands, every touch, every suggestive remark, every blatant grope would be rationalized away as harmless, a quirk of the tech bay, where nothing really important ever happened.

He sauntered into the main lab area, immediately noticing the heightened state of arousal among the male technicians. Bulges strained against their tight bodysuits, some more subtle than others, but all undeniably present. A healthy libido was a sign of strength and vitality, after all. And appreciating the female form was harmless and natural. Erections were a normal and unavoidable part of male biology. It was simply common sense.

His eyes landed on Ana, who was now working on a different console, her back to him. The unzipped front of her jumpsuit revealed the deep valley between her large breasts, the dark areola of her left nipple peeking out from the side of her sports bra. He walked up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her back against his groin. He could feel the soft give of her ass against the prominent lump of his softened cock. “Working hard, Ana?” he murmured, his breath warm against her neck.

Ana leaned back into him, a small smile playing on her lips. “Just trying to keep things running smoothly, Drake,” she said, her voice slightly breathless. She reached back and patted his hand, which was still resting on her hip. “Wouldn’t want any distractions, would we?”

Drake chuckled, his hand sliding down to cup her buttock, giving it a gentle squeeze. Then, noticing the way her sports bra had shifted, he reached into her jumpsuit, ostensibly to adjust it. “Whoops,” he said with a playful grin, as he inadvertently tugged the bra down further, causing her left breast to spill completely out. The large, pale orb swung gently, the dark nipple pointing downwards. “Looks like you’re having a bit of a… wardrobe malfunction there, Ana. You really should be more careful. Wouldn't want anyone to get distracted, now would we?” He gave the exposed breast a playful jiggle.

Ana, feigning embarrassment, slowly reached up and adjusted her bra and jumpsuit, taking her time to ensure every male in the lab got a good, lingering look at her exposed flesh. She tucked herself back in, a faint blush on her cheeks but a knowing glint in her eyes.

Nearby, Alvin, whose own erection was now practically poking out of his fly, watched the interaction with a wide grin. He turned to Clara, who was working beside him. “Damn, Clara,” he said, his voice thick with arousal, “Ana’s got a set of knockers on her, huh? I’d love to get my hands on those.” He gestured towards her exposed breast with a wink. Clara glanced over, her eyes widening slightly before she quickly looked away, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. She subtly crossed her arms over her chest, as if suddenly self-conscious about her own smaller bust.

Drake moved on, his hand sliding down Ana’s back as he walked past. He stopped beside Angela, who was now working on a different console. He leaned in close, his groin pressing against her hip. “Hey Angie,” he whispered, “I just blew a huge load back in the alcove. Think you could… clean it up for me?”

Angela rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips. “Seriously, Drake?” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “You couldn’t have just told me? I would have…“ She pressed her tongue to the side of her mouth while making a pumping motion with her fist, miming a blowjob. “Saved you the mess.” She sighed dramatically. “Fine,” she said, turning and heading towards the alcove. “But you owe me one.”

As Drake moved through the lab, touching and groping the various female technicians, the male technicians continued their work, their erections a constant reminder of the pervasive sexual energy that filled the room. No one questioned Drake’s behavior. It was just Drake being Drake, a harmless quirk of the tech bay, where nothing really important ever happened. And besides, a healthy libido was a sign of strength and vitality. Appreciating the female form was harmless and natural. And erections? Well, they were just a normal and unavoidable part of male biology. It was common sense.