Parade of rapists

Rocketgirl awoke on a lush king size four poster bed in a penthouse apartment with a gorgeous sunny view. Her limbs were secured to the corners of the bed with precious little give. She had no idea how long she'd been ****.

In a way, she was relieved. For some time now -- days? weeks? -- she had been Ms Jensen's naked prisoner in a cold, dark cellar. Ms Jensen visited her once a day to feed and hydrate her, but she longed for her freedom, or at least a change of scenery.

Now she had it. While she slept, she'd apparently been bathed. She now wore her old, familiar Rocketgirl uniform, and it, too, seemed freshly laundered. Rocketgirl sighed contentedly. She was one step closer to her freedom. Though she was a little concerned: why the special treatment? Why now?

Someone rapped softly on the door to the bedroom as the door slowly opened. "Knock, knock!" called Ms Jensen. She was followed into the room by several handsome men in their 20s. Ten, twenty, thirty...Rocketgirl lost count as they crammed into the large suite.

Ms Jensen settled on the bed and began stroking Rocketgirl's face, her hair. "Did you sleep well, sweetie? Here, I have something for you."

She pulled a syringe from her belt, flicked it once, squirted a few drops into the air, and jammed the rest of the contents into Rocketgirl's arm.

"Aaah!" Rocketgirl squealed as she squirmed away, too late.

"There. Not to worry, it's just a little aphrodisiac to help you enjoy what you're about to endure."

"What?" Rocketgirl fumed. "What are you planning to do to me?" She recoiled, frustrated at her inability to escape her bonds.

"Me?" Ms Jensen chuckled. "Why, not a thing. What could I possibly do? We've already determined my synth sperm has no effect on you. But I want to see if that's a design flaw, or if you're flawed. The way I see it, either my sperm is flawed or you're infertile. And since I don't think the problem is my synthetic sperm, I've decided to start by testing my other hypothesis. You."

Rocketgirl's glance slipped to the crowd of young men. Some stared at her and licked their lips. Others were taking off their shirts. Rocketgirl's breath caught in her throat and she felt a stirring in her loins.

Ms Jensen took a crumpled paper out of her pocket and smoothed it out, then showed it to Rocketgirl. "FANS OF ROCKETGIRL," it read, "Submit to a paid study."

"God, I love working on a college campus. This is one of a hundred different types of solicitations I've made over the last two weeks while you've been cooped up downstairs. I really needn't have gone to all the trouble. A simple announcement after one of my classes would have done the trick." She grabbed Rocketgirl's pussy, earning a whimper and a writhe.

"You are popular, girl!" she whispered harshly in Rocketgirl's ear. She sat back up and tossed the paper aside. One hand continued working on Rocketgirl's cunt while another began tracing her nipples.

"I interviewed literally thousands of young men and narrowed it down to the hundred fine specimens you see before you today. They met all my criteria: virile, athletic, intelligent...and at least a little bit depraved. After all, I had to get them to agree to gang **** you!"

"You WHAT?!?" Rocketgirl began pulling frantically at her bindings, inadvertently driving her tits into Ms Jensen's squeezing fingers.

"Shhh, shh, shh," Ms Jensen said, shaking her head slowly. She leaned forward, and her lips found Rocketgirl's. She kissed her slowly, her tongue gradually teasing the heroine's mouth open. As the **** coursing through her veins took hold, Rocketgirl responded in kind. Soon the two women were making out heavily, barely cognizant of the whoops and hollers of the hundred men in the room.

Ms Jensen broke the kiss and stroked Rocketgirl's face. A tear rolled from Rocketgirl's eye even as her body grew more excited.

"Don't worry," Ms Jensen reassured her. "Look, if my hypothesis is correct, you're infertile, so it's not like you'll get pregnant anyway. And if you do, these are really fine young men. With your genes combined, you're bound to have a truly exceptional child."

Ms Jensen stood up and walked toward the door. "Now, I'm off to run some more tests on my synth sperm. Just in case you really are fertile, you know. I must perfect my solution!"

"No, don't...don't go!" Rocketgirl panted. She was really sweating now. She eyed the approaching college guys with a mix of dread and desire. "Don't leave me here with...with...ohhhh!" she moaned, her body eager for attention.

"Ta-ta, now, love," Ms Jensen called from the doorway, and blew her a kiss. "I'll be back to check on you. Eventually. But um...don't hold your breath! Have fun, boys!" The door closed and locked as the first man climbed on the bed.