Forced milking, futuristic, e-stim, genital reduction, humiliation

A young man tries to prove that he deserves to become a breeder

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The Panel – part 1

Dedicated to my dear friend Chris P

“Happy birthday Ferdy,” Jackson said to his son, handing him an envelope. Inside were two pieces of card.

Ferdy looked down at them. It was a pair of tickets to see his favourite group, Clang, at City Arena.

“Thought you could take a friend with you.”

Ferdy smiled, and they hugged awkwardly in the confinement of the stationary vehicle.

“Thanks dad.”

There was a long pause.

“Everything alright?” Jackson asked.

“I really don’t wanna do this.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s the law. Gotta do your part. Let’s get in and get it over with so you can have the afternoon to yourself.”

“I hope so.”

Ferdy stepped away from his father’s transpod, and watched as a stacker lifted it into the storage racks beside the street.

“Here’s hoping they’ll give me back a Primo,” Jackson said, repeating a joke he’d used a dozen times before.

In reality, there was zero chance that the vehicle stacker would accidentally return a superior model instead of their own. The parking technology was completely foolproof, and it was keyed to the ID chip implanted in the man’s head.

“I just hope you can find the right bay this time!” Ferdy joked.

“One time. I take us to the wrong street one time, and I never hear the last of it!”

Their light-hearted banter was interrupted by a commotion to their side. Two enforcers were struggling with a man who looked to be in his late twenties, although to be fair, he was the only one struggling. They were effortlessly subduing him. He had no chance against the humanoid androids. They were ten times strong and twice as fast as the average person.

“No, this isn’t right!” the man protested. “the government doesn’t have the right to humiliate people like this!”

“Mr Spelman, we are not authorised to debate government policy,” one of the androids said in a neutral but mildly digitised-sounding voice. “We are simply here to enforce it. You can file a protest at the regional office, or you can take it up with your zone representative.”

One of the gleaming white androids held the man’s arms behind his back. The other effortlessly removed his trousers and underwear. Ferdy was not surprised by what he saw between the man’s legs. Although the man had a reasonably well toned, adult body, his genitals were no larger than those of a prepubertal boy. His penis was almost non-existent; just a wrinkled foreskin jutting at a 90-degree angle from his groin, curling slightly downwards towards the tip.

Although people generally did not ridicule neuters, the small crowd of watchers sniggered when they saw what a miniscule penis the man had.

Beneath, his scrotum was little more than a swollen bump between his thighs, the wrinkled skin betraying the fact that the skin had once contained larger cargo. His entire groin was silky smooth, with not even a hint of hair or stubble.

Two hundred years ago, it was briefly fashionable for young males to shave themselves, in an unconscious desire to regress to childhood, (although they claimed it was for hygiene or aesthetic reasons), but now, hair was seen as a sign of status, and in the locker rooms, every guy Ferdy saw, proudly displayed their pubes; the bushier the better, with many dyeing their hair to draw attention to it.

The enforcers released their grip on the man, and he glowered at them with undisguised rage.

One of the androids spoke.

“Please note that this interaction has been logged. This is your third infraction of the nudity law Mr Spelman. Any further attempts to cover your genitals will result in severe punishment. Your clothes will be disposed of. Have a good day Sir.”

Spelman stood a moment, impotent to retaliate, before storming off, followed by the chuckles of the small audience who had watched the incident.

Ferdy watched the exchange with dismay, and his father picked up his son’s look of concern.

“Positive mindset Ferd. That will never be you. Hopefully, you’ll pass the assessment, and if you don’t, I’m sure you’d never be so dumb as to cover up.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You passed.”

The man put an arm around Ferdy’s shoulder and they walked to the assessment centre.

While his father waited out in the waiting room, Ferdy entered the assessment hall. It was a large room, and along one side was a panel of ten scrutinisers, each seated at a desk with a horizontal screen on it. Two-inch thick vinyl gym mats covered a large part of the hall floor, and there were ten long travelator conveyor belts aligned in front of the scrutinisers.

Nine other young man waited nervously with Ferdy. A couple of them tried to act casually, projecting a sense of bravado or confidence that none of them truly felt.

In the corner stood a male in a security uniform. He was wearing show-alls; trousers with the groin missing. He wore no underwear, allowing the young men to see his puny, smooth genitals. As macho as his posture was; a soldier standing at ease with his chest puffed out, it was hard to see a man with such a puny peepee, and on full display, as any kind of threat.

The Overseer stood and addressed the group.

“Welcome candidates. You are here because you have come of age, and as such, it is time for your assessment. Today you will undergo the process of determining if you will be granted the privilege of becoming a breeder, or if you will become a neuter. As you know, only two males in ten are permitted to become breeders, so there is no shame in joining the vast majority of the male population.”

Ferdy noticed that none of the panel wore show-alls, and that the eight men were all breeders…

“We’ll start with the physicals. If you would please take off your clothes, including your underwear.”

Ferdy knew in advance what the stages of the assessment routine would be, but it didn’t make him any more comfortable or happy with the process. He glanced at the other youths. He knew none of them, but they looked nervously at each other. Then one young man started to undress, and spurred on by his action, the others followed. Ferdy was not surprised to see that the guy was decently well hung, with a thick bush of hair and a treasure trail all the way up to his navel. It was always the ones with the most to show who were, if not eager, certainly the first and most willing to get naked.

Not that Ferdy had anything to be ashamed of. With a reasonable 4 inches soft. He was no stud, but nor did he have to hide his junk like some guys.

The woman watched the candidates and when they were all naked, she spoke again.

“Okay, you can put your clothes down, then stand with your hands behind your heads and your feet apart.”

The young men complied, albeit with more than a few blushes. Small camera drones emerged from in the ceiling. They hovered with just the slightest hum. There was one drone for each candidate, each recording 100-megabyte HDR video images. They slowly scanned the naked youths from top to bottom, additionally sweeping across their bodies with a horizontal light that was such a bright blue that it was almost white. It projected and recorded a series of hundreds of dots in a line that built a topographical point cloud, enabling the scrutinisers’ computers to build up a detailed 3D image of each candidate.

When they had scanned the front, the tiny drones flew to the rear, and repeated the photography and scanning process before moving to each side and completing the basic picture.

Ferdy could see a ten-foot-tall image of his body appear on the wall behind the scrutinisers, which he correctly assumed was also relayed to their desk screens. Each candidate’s first name was printed above their image.

The drone returned to his front and lowered to groin level, then it performed a meticulously detailed scan of his groin. He felt incredibly strange watching a large image of his genitals completing the image that the previous scans had initiated.

Ferdy could see the image of the other teenagers beside his. Nature had not been kind to several of them, including Paul, the young man next to him. His penis was small; no more than two and a half inches, but smaller still if you disregarded the foreskin snout that accounted for at least 20 percent of its length. It rested in a light brown bush of hair, like a nesting shrew, hiding from view. It sat atop a plump scrotum, that contained normal-sized testicles, and while they were not cold-water tight to his groin, they did not hang down either. The entire aesthetic was not helped by the boy’s paunchy belly.

The candidates knew years before, that they were to be assessed on their 16^th birthdays, and physical condition was one of the measurement criteria, but for some reason this guy had seemingly done nothing to improve his chances. Ferdy felt sympathy for the guy. They both knew with a dick that small, and a body like that, he was a near certainty to fail the assessment.

Ferdy looked from the displays to the guy’s face directly. The teen looked back at him and made an “I know,” face.

“I’m not sporty,” Paul said, in a tone that made it clear he had already accepted his fate.

Ferdy gave him a tight-lipped smile, and his eyes showed empathy for the guy’s situation. His own body was hard and lean. He loved sports, and had been putting in extra training throughout the last year to prepare himself for this day. But despite that, his selection was far from guaranteed. There were things you could do; train hard, avoid jerking off for a month, go to wrestling practice, and eat right, but most candidates did the same, and still so few were selected.

To his other side stood a blonde boy called Mads, who had the tight muscles of a swimmer, and slightly larger genitals than Ferdy. They exchanged glances.

Like most candidates, Ferdy was sick with worry. As commonplace as male nudity was among the adult male population, he had grown up with the usual teenaged reservations about being seen naked, especially by females. Yes, 80% of the world’s males were naked, but HE had never been, so he went through adolescence with, if anything, a heightened sense of modesty.

Being seen naked at his very least impressive, with reduced genitals? That was something Ferdy would do almost anything to avoid, especially if today was a taste of the experience. Yet it all came down to this single day.

Carrying digital pads, the scrutinisers rose from their desks and approached the young men. They were dressed in white coats, like doctors. A man approached Ferdy, and started to perform an examination. Heart rate, eyes, teeth, blood pressure, and so on, running the gamut of a normal physical, and noting the results on the pad he carried.

“I know I have no chance,” he heard the overweight boy say. “Why don’t you just get it over with?”

“Every candidate has to be given a fair chance,” the woman in front of him said.

“Unless your father is rich…” Paul said.

The woman declined to respond.

Then the man in front of Ferdy began to examine his genitals using rubber gloved hands. He lifted the boy’s flaccid penis and drew the foreskin back. It retracted stickily to reveal the moist pink glans beneath. The scrutiniser lifted the glans and assessed the condition of the frenulum, looking for abnormalities or deformities.

Ferdy looked down, watching the examination with a mixture of distaste and concern. To his right side, he heard a male assessor make a sound.

“Hmmm.”

Ferdy glanced down Mads’ groin. He had a straining erection. The youth was extremely attractive; lean, with swept back spiked blonde hair and strong jaw lines. But it would count for nothing. Getting hard during the examination was a big strike on your assessment if your scrutiniser was male. The poor guy blushed bright red.

“I’m not a homo,” he protested, “I just haven’t tugged it for 3 months.”

The male scrutiniser continued his examination, and repeated the noise.

“Hmmm.”

It was the classic gamble: candidates needed to prove that they were virile during the sexual performance part of the evaluation, and to do that, almost all of them abstained from masturbation for a period before the assessment. Longer abstinence meant a greater show of virility when you had to perform, but it could also mean that you were so desperate to nut, that even the slightest touch would get your dick straining, desperate for attention.

There were endless citizen-created tutorials produced on the subject, all professing to help the would-be candidate, but ultimately, the one thing they all agreed upon was that each boy was different. While one teenager could abstain for three months with no problem, especially if he didn’t usually masturbate in the first place, for a young man with a high libido, even a week of restraint was unbearable. Unfortunately for Mads, the gamble had not paid off.

Homosexuality was completely accepted in society; after all, homos were unlikely to become breeders. There was even a market for gay gigolos who sold their services to women who outnumbered male breeders 5 to 1. But far fewer homosexuals passed the assessment, than hets, and it was considered an extreme social faux pas to hide your sexuality, becoming a breeder when you had no intention of doing so.

“Please,” Mads begged again, but the scrutiniser ignored him.

Ferdy understood the young man’s desperation. Once you were identified as gay, your life was forever altered, and there could be no restoration of what they did to you. At least as a non-breeder, there was the possibility of redemption and restoration, even if it was extremely unlikely.

“That’s two out,” Ferdy thought to himself.

His chances were improving but he still had a long way to go.

Ferdy’s attention was drawn back to his own groin. The man before him was reaching beneath his penis, groping his testicles, palpating them, checking for anomalies, cancerous growths, varicoceles, or any other abnormalities that might impede his sexual function. Ferdy knew he had none. He’d been checked by their family physician the week before. He knew also that his testicles were normal-sized for his age.

He stood patiently while the scrutiniser confirmed what he already knew, examining Ferdy as though he was an animal being considered for stud.

When the man was done, he attached a small monitor to Ferdy’s chest using an adhesive pad, then returned to his desk, leaving Ferdy standing there with his foreskin retracted. Was it intentional? For some reason, it made him feel more exposed, as though he was trying to be sexy. He reached down and drew the foreskin back over his helmet, then stood waiting while the other scrutinisers finished their examinations.