Chapter 6: The check up
The chain stayed clipped to the floor ring for two days. They fed him there, used him there. By the morning of the third day, his stomach had finally settled, the obscene bloating gone, though he still felt the ghost of every load sloshing inside him when he moved. Kael unlocked the chain with a grunt. “Check-up day. Everyone cleans up.”
There was a novelty to putting on clothes. Polo shirts, tight across their monumental shoulders and chests, tucked into nothing. Just tails of fabric covering their backs before ending at the swell of their asses. Thick leather boots laced up to their calves. They were, otherwise, entirely bare below the waist, cocks and balls swinging freely as they moved. Cade’s own shirt hung to his mid-thigh, a dress on his small frame. He loved the feel of the cool air on his exposed ass.
The hospital clinic was a monument to sterile efficiency scaled for giants. The ceilings soared, lined with harsh fluorescent lights. The smell of antiseptic bleach was so strong it made Cade’s eyes water, almost drowning out the deeper, muskier scent of his family that clung to them. The floor was cold, white tile that echoed under their heavy bootsteps.
A nurse, a Titan of perhaps eight feet, nodded at them from behind a plexiglass shield, his eyes lingering on the exposed flesh below their polos without comment. It was normal here.
“Family Kael,” he droned. “Examination bay three.”
Bay three was a cavernous room of steel and chrome. An examination table, high and intimidating, stood in the center. Doctor Krell was a slender Titan by their standards, only seven feet tall, with sharp glasses and thin hands. He looked up from a chart as they filed in.
“Annual assessments,” Krell said, his voice crisp. “We’ll proceed by age. Kael, you’re first. Standard metrics.”
As Kael hoisted himself onto the table with a grunt, the rest of them milled about. Cade immediately wandered to a stainless steel basin on a counter. It was at chest-level for the others; he had to stand on his toes to peer over the rim, his tiny cock brushing the cold cabinet door below. He giggled at the shiver it sent through him.
“Cade, stop touching things,” Brook said, but there was no heat in it. He was leaning against the wall, idly stroking his soft length.
“But I’m bored,” Cade whined, turning. He looked at Val, his eyes wide and pleading. “Can I at least suck you? While we wait?”
Val smirked but shook his head. “Doctor’s orders, dump. No intake before the nutritional panels. You know that.”
“It’s not intake,” Cade argued, a petulant pout on his lips. “It’s just… mouth exercise.”
Lan chuckled. “Save it. You’ll get plenty later.”
Cade’s shoulders slumped. The denial was a peculiar ache, sharper than any pounding he’d taken. He was hungry. The clinic’s sterile air had no nourishment.
Kael’s exam was quick. Blood pressure, heart rate, a scan of his massive torso. When Krell asked for a semen sample for the nutritional registry, Kael simply grunted, fisted his enormous cock, and within three rough pumps was spurting thick, pearlescent streams into a specimen bowl the size of a bucket. The sound was wet, violent. The smell, even across the room, was pungent and alive. Cade’s mouth flooded with saliva. He whimpered.
“Control yourself,” Drei muttered, though he too was now half-hard, watching his grandfather’s display.
One by one, they went. Brook, Val, Lan, Drei. Each produced their sample with casual efficiency. The room grew thick with the aroma of their seed, a humid, salty fog that made the sterile lights seem to buzz louder. Cade watched, knees weak, fingering the hem of his polo shirt, desperate to lick the drips from the table edges.
Finally, it was his turn. Krell looked down at him. “You’ll need the step,” he said, pointing to a short platform. Cade climbed up, then had to scramble onto the cold table. The steel was icy against his bare ass.
“Remarkable,” Krell said, not for the first time, as he measured Cade’s height, his weight. He palpated Cade’s abdomen, feeling the muscles there. “Your body fat is virtually nonexistent. Lean muscle retention is exceptional. For a subject on an exclusively seminal diet… your physiology is uniquely adaptive.” He pinched the skin at Cade’s hip. “You process the proteins and lipids with near-perfect efficiency. A testament to your lineage’s potency, of course.”
Cade barely listened. He was staring at Brook, who was watching the exam with dark, interested eyes. “Can I have some now?” Cade asked, his voice small.
“After the blood draw,” Krell said absently, tightening a tourniquet around Cade’s thin bicep. The needle slid in. Cade watched his own dark blood fill the vial, a different kind of hunger gnawing at him.
The doctor took a swab, pushing it into Cade’s ass without ceremony. Cade gasped, his back arching. “Just checking mucosal health and residual nutrient absorption,” Krell explained, removing the swab and placing it in a tube. He then produced a small, clear vial. “I need a direct semen sample from you as well, Cade. For comparison.”
Cade’s face fell. “But… I don’t make much.”
“Any amount will suffice.”
With a sigh, Cade took his own tiny, pink cock between his thumb and forefinger. It was embarrassingly small in his hand. He gave a few feeble tugs, his face scrunched in concentration. After a minute, a single, clear drop welled at the slit. He milked it into the vial, his face hot. It looked pathetic next to the buckets his family had produced.
Krell took it, labeled it. “Fascinating. The nutrient concentration in your own production is minimal, as expected. You are a net consumer, not a producer. Your system is a perfect filter for theirs.” He made a note. “You are in peak condition, Cade. You may dismount.”
Cade didn’t need telling twice. He slid off the table, his bare feet slapping the cold floor. The moment his feet touched ground, he was across the room, dropping to his knees before Brook. His fingers clutched at Brook’s boots.
“Please,” he begged, his voice ragged. “I’m so empty. I’ve been so good.”
Brook looked down at him, a slow smile spreading. He glanced at Krell. “We’re done here, Doctor?”
Krell was washing his hands. “The results will be sent. Yes, you’re done.”
That was all the permission they needed. Val was already unlacing his boots. Lan was shrugging off his polo.
“Not in the clinic,” Krell said, though it sounded routine, a reminder of policy, not a true objection.
“We won’t,” Brook said, his hand coming to rest on Cade’s collared neck. He hauled Cade to his feet. “We’ve got a better place in mind.”
They filed out, leaving the sterile silence behind. The trip back to the estate was a tense, silent hum of anticipation. Cade squirmed in the passenger hold of their rugged transport, the collar tight against his throat, every bump in the road jostling the emptiness inside him.
The moment the great door of the house slammed shut, the polos were torn off. Boots were kicked into corners.
“On your back,” Kael commanded, his voice echoing in the familiar foyer. “Where we can see you.”
Cade scrambled to the center of the bearskin rug, lying back, legs spreading eagerly. He was home. The clinical chill was gone, replaced by the hot, familiar pressure of their gaze.
Brook loomed over him first, his colossal cock already a rigid, veined pillar. He spat into his palm, slicking the head, and aligned it with Cade’s hungry hole. “Beg for it,” Brook growled.
“Please,” Cade gasped, his hips lifting. “Please, fuck me, fill me up, I need it, I’m so fucking empty!”
Brook drove in. The stretch was agonizing, perfect, a brutal remedy to the hollow ache. Cade screamed, his back bowing off the rug, his tiny dick bouncing. Brook set a punishing pace immediately, each thrust punching the air from Cade’s lungs.
“Look at that,” Val said, kneeling by Cade’s head. He slapped his heavy cock against Cade’s cheek. “Open.” Cade did, and Val shoved himself deep into Cade’s mouth, fucking his throat in time with Brook’s brutal pistoning.
The dam had broken. The denial at the clinic made this ravaging feel like a birthright. Lan moved to feed Cade a second cock, pressing his tip alongside Val’s, stretching Cade’s lips obscenely wide. Drei knelt between Cade’s splayed legs, watching Brook’s cock vanish again and again into the slick, stretched hole. He leaned down and began to lick at Cade’s tiny, frantic penis, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue swirling.
Cade was a vessel, being filled from every direction. The sounds were animalistic: grunts, wet slaps, choked gags, the ragged tear of breathing. Kael watched from his great chair, a hand slowly working his own girth, a king observing his subjects enact a familiar, vital ritual.
Brook came first. With a roar, he hammered deep and unleashed, his hyperspermia flooding Cade’s depths with a scalding, relentless torrent. Cade felt the hot expansion, the delicious weight. Before Brook had even finished, Val was pulling out of Cade’s mouth, swapping places, guiding his own thick shaft into the drenched, overflowing channel.
“Pump another one into him,” Lan urged, taking Val’s place at Cade’s mouth.
The relay had begun again. But here, there were no chains, no limits. Just the endless, hungry cycle of consumption, and Cade at the center of it all, giggling through the tears, his body jolting with each new invasion, finally, blissfully full.