Knock-knock.  
	
	I turned to look at the faded dark oak door of my office, but otherwise ignored the intrusion to my ordinarily silent workspace .  All gleaming steel and sterile tile surfaces, it sparkled coldly back at me, a model of efficiency and a testament to its purpose.  But for that door and my desk, which stood in close proximity to the other at the north side, it was perfect.  I shuffled a few papers around, moving the file for inmate #7931975 to the bottom, and revealing the file for #7931976.  I flipped it open to reveal the mugshot.
	An eleven year old wolf, male, silver gray with a very light speckling of black across the left cheek and tail.  His muzzle was broader than normal for his listed species of timber-wolf, suggesting a dire wolf somewhere in his ancestry.  Below that, pages and pages of orderly bricks of information, building blocks that composed the bulk of his file.  Height, weight, yada, yada, yada.  I leafed through the pages uncaring; not really my part of the job.  Someone else took all those measurements.  
	Knock-knock.
	“Doctor Petra, Inmate #793-” came the muffled voice of a guard.
	“Leave him.”  I said, loudly and clearly.  “I'll take care of him from here.”
	“Ma'am, with all due resp-”  
	“Dismissed!”
	“Yes Ma'am.”  There followed unintelligible grumbling, probably orders being issued to the cub.  I resumed my perusal of the file.
	Gavin, the inmate scheduled, was a typically rebellious individual.  Exactly what had landed him on the bad side of the K.E.N.N.L.E.  But the reasons for his arrests, nor his pleas and excuses were of any interest to me.  I identified and flipped to the section to which I was concerned with: his sexual development.
	Several well taken photos of his sheath, testicles, penis, and anus, all my own work, were scattered across the pages interspersed with the latest round of measurements.  His scrotum was just a little above average, as were his testis at last check, and he had finally begun to produce viable sperm.  The first six weeks of ejaculate extracted were purely blank; both behind schedule for his development, and useless for study.  
	After a few more moments, I turned in my chair, and stood.  I did not open the door, but instead, cleared my throat and called out to the boy.  “Come in, Gavin.  I am ready for you now.”  
	A faint whine emanated through the door.  Hesitant paw-steps could be heard on the other side, Gavin approaching apprehensively.  I watched the door swing open on well oiled hinges, a look of interest mingled with mild dispassion, and dare I say it...  Arousal.  Even after more than fifteen years at the K.E.N.N.L.E, I was still aroused by the cubs I over saw and their compulsory nakedness.
	Standing there, Looking at me, I saw his eyes flick, hesitating for a split second on my breasts, devoid of all the bravado and impatience that I knew filled his demeanor before the guard had departed.  “What's the matter, Gavin,”  I cooed, mockingly.  “Is everything alright?”    
	“N-nothing, ma'-”
	“Stance 5”
	Gavin, in a relaxed posture that expressed his discontent with his circumstances and distaste of me, legs spread slightly apart and paws at his sides, blurred with urgency to obey the order.  His legs snapped together, silvery thighs framing his tight, young scrotum, and perky sheath.  He raised up onto the balls of his paws, stood up as straight as he could, with tail held at a right angle to his body.  Arms came up, straight out, pads of his palms flat and facing down.  He hadn't been hanging his head, exactly, but it had been up, looking me in the eyes like he thought he was equal, but now he faced the wall, head straight.
	“What a good boy!”  I exclaimed deprecatingly, stepping away from my desk.  I waited to see if he would take the bait, and he did not.  Good, but I'll admit I was a little saddened that I would not be afforded a chance to take him through his paces to ensure he knew who was in control.  
	Approaching him, I got within inches, and he didn't move a muscle.  I placed a paw on his cheek, and scritched along jawline, moving towards his chin.  I could feel him shake just a little bit, the strain of the pose tough on his immature body.  I pushed down on his wrists, first one, then the other.  He resisted, holding the trained pose.  I felt down his chest, poking and prodding without looking, making sure he kept the position.  A pinch of a nipple, and a grab of his genitals made him shiver and gasp, but each time he stayed still.
	I stepped back and looked him over once more.  With a nod of my head, he relaxed his posture.  I walked over to my desk, his eyes following me, but he stayed put as proper.  I causally leaned over my desk.  I raised my tail, teasing, while I looked over a page or two, reconfirming the previous numbers.  Coming back around, I went to a cabinet and obtained my measuring equipment and accessories.  When I turned, he was already standing in an X position, in a  semi-relaxed version of stance number three.  After two months, doing this every eight hours as per K.E.N.N.L.E protocol for all eleven plus year old cubs, he was well trained in what was expected of him.
	I knelt down, placing the tape-measure and sizing rings by my side.  I took his sheath in my paw and pushed it to either side for inspection, then down to reveal the tip.  It was firm, and pink, no obstructions of the urethral opening  No visible change, but that was to be expected.  I inserted a claw between his penis and the entrance of his sheath, and ran the full way around, tugging.  I lifted his testicles to inspect the anterior pubic area.  I ran my finger from perineum to scrotum, then massaged the testicles, checking their shape, and looking for malformations or lumps.  Cursory inspection in the regions surrounding showed that there appeared to be a slight increase in the shagginess of fur and the speckling of darker fur reminiscent of his cheek was becoming ever more prominent.
	With practiced movements, I picked up my tape measure, and took new ones, memorizing them for update in the file when I finished.  I gave a soft grope to the testicles, patting them, like a fruit farmer might to test if their oranges were ripe for the picking.  
	“Turn around and spread.”  
	Gavin hesitated the briefest of seconds, then did as commanded.  Placing his paws on his butt cheeks, he spread them, revealing his anus.  It was clean and pink, kept that way by rigorous, mandatory hygienic routines.  I spread some medical lubricants to the ring sizer, and put the tip to his sphincter muscle.  I heard him inhale sharply, the cold, conical metal rod uncomfortable.  Grinning, I shoved the tip in before he could fully prepare.  The lubricant let it slide in with absurd ease, even when he clenched down upon it, trying to push it back out.
	“Stop resisting,”  I commanded, pushing it in further.  The pink ring stretched amusingly around it, forcing air out in a lewd exhalation that created bubbles in the lubricant.  Three quarters of the way in, I could push it no further.  With a wax pen, I marked where it was, then pulled it half way out to see the actual measurement.  I memorized the circumference of five point one inches.  Not unimpressive, but under what might be expected.  There were plenty of horses, both employees and inmates alike.  Satisfied,  I thrust it back in and out rapidly, sodomizing Gavin with the sizer.  The huffs and groans when I angled it into his prostate were delightful.  When my arm tired, and I grew board of his sounds, I pulled it out, and tossed it into the sink without rising.  The clang was deafening, and startled the boy something awful.
	“Turn around,” I said, chuckling.  He obeyed, sheepishly letting his sore, lubed buttocks slap wetly back together.
	With the measurements I had just taken, it seemed we were done at long last.  I stood, and  stretched, massaging my arm.  I looked down at Gavin, who hadn't moved.  “Well?  You know the drill.  Why are you still standing there?”
	Gavin dropped his posture quickly, clearly tired out from holding it so long.  Perhaps I had taken a little more time sodomizing him than was strictly necessary.  With haste, he moved to the large steel slab that occupied the center of the room.  It was waist high to me, but for Gavin, big as he was, it was still just a little bit of a stretch.  He was maturing, but had yet to begin his expected growth spurt.  It took him two tries to get seated on the edge.  He spread his legs, paws dangling a half-foot above the floor, revealing his sheath and testicles to me once more.  I watched, filled with perverse pleasure as his scrotum tightened from the intense cold of the bare metal upon which they rested.
	From a drawer nearby, I withdrew a small vibrating ring.  I placed it delicately about the protruding tip of his penis, touched a button on the side of the device, and it began to vibrate intensely.  Gavin huffed, trying to act like he didn't like it.  The lie was put to him though, his penis sliding smoothly from its sheath, a bead of pre-ejaculate forming at its tip.  Not that he was doing a good job of acting.  His grunts were pitiful, and though I tried to maintain a professional demeanor, I couldn't help rub my thighs together as I became increasingly aroused.  Something about being in control of a cub, listening to their sounds of pleasure, especially when they acted like they didn't want what was happening, body betraying them was intense.  
	I shook my head, clearing my thoughts.  I must be nearing my heat, to be so easily effected, watching this young cub get stimulated by a vibrator ring.  Nevertheless, I still kept careful watch over Gavin.  I could see his paws twitch, both upper and lower, as he itched to touch himself.  It brought me some twisted satisfaction to command him to be still.  I couldn't afford to have him just waste precious research material.  He was not long at full mast before I reached over, turned off the vibrator and removed it from him, and tossed it over my shoulder into the sink with the sizer.  I took  few quick measurements of his fully erect penis.
	“Lay down.”  I instructed, and Gavin did as he was told.  Threading his tail through the hole in the table, which served double duty for holding his penis when face down.  I took his penis in my hand and moved it side to side, testing its firmness.  No matter the direction I pushed it, it always sprang back to center immediately.  I collected a sample of the the lubricating fluid that covered it, depositing it in a sterile test tube, and turned back to him.  
	Gavin's penis, which had barely begun to swell at the base, was beginning to deflate and retreat back into his sheath.  I re-grabbed his penis, and stroked it a few times, admiring the way it fit perfectly into my hand.  The heat and wetness made bolts of electrical tingling sensation spread through my core.  His penis responded immediately to the stimuli.  I filed away my feelings of arousal.  They had no place here.  Not until I had collected my specimens.    
	Once more fully erect, I reached for the masturbator suspended above the table on a mechanical arm, pulled it down, aligning Gavin's penis with it.  The cup was long and narrow, with an extra stretchy reservoir at the opening for a knot.  I had others, designed for the many different species here, but Candide like myself made the bulk of my purview.  It had a harness for securing it to his groin.  The it was heavy, a special made, high durability, transparent silicone masturbatory device, with a thin tube  running from the other end to the ceiling.  A few inches up the tube was a splitter for directing emissions into a vial for collection.  I applied lubricant onto his penis, and rubbed it over the length of it, then applied some to the interior of the cup.
	Still holding his penis, I placed the tip against, then gently nudged it into the opening.  It slid effortlessly in, gliding smoothly down to the base, pushing back his sheath completely and squelching satisfyingly against his pelvis.  His face screwed up, stifling a moan, the the perfectly crafted ridges within caressing him.  I fastened the harness, lifting his legs up one at a time, threading a strap around each.  A third went around his waist, and connected with the ones on his legs.  He kept still as trained, until I reached for his wrists to strap them to the table.  He twitched, pulling them away.  It was a normal reaction for him, I had read the reports time and time again, and experienced it personally every time I saw him.  But I tired of it.  Rather than commanding him to be still, I grabbed his wrist, and belted it to the table as per usual.  I moved around the table, getting each ankle and the other wrist in turn.  He struggled a little against the straps, but quickly settled down.  He was getting used to being handled like property.
	I didn't want to admit it to myself, but with each strap I tied, I grew a little hotter under the collar of my lab coat.  I had done this tens of thousands of times quite literally over the course of the twenty three years I had worked here.  Always had I been aroused by the cubs, and the control I exerted over them at my whim.  But today seemed worse than usual.  
	“You ready for your shots?  Or would you like a moment to adjust first?”
	“Just do it already,”  Gavin spat, turning his head and looking away.
	“As you wish.”  I turned back to my many cabinets and grabbed a pair of syringes.  In the first I drew a hormone cocktail, created to arouse and prepare the body for sperm production.  The second I drew was a new discovery of the K.E.N.N.L.E, a synthetic enzyme injection I helped to create.  The enzyme aided the body in sperm production, catalyzing the meiosis of gametes directly.  It was so potent, that an infant would produce at least some sperm if injected, and sped up production by nearly a hundred fold in productive adolescents and adults.  It was my pride and joy.
	I laid the two syringes next to Gavin's head, just in his field of view.  I watched, amused as he tilted his head to the side to see them better.  I poked around for a vein in his arm, then grabbed the needle, inserted, and depressed it, emptying its contents into his blood stream.  I waited for a moment, observing.  It was always exciting to me to see the flushing in the ears as blood flow increased, watch the breathing become more rapid, and the swelling of the penis trapped in its clear silicone prison strain and begin leaking pre-ejaculate without the pump ever needing to be on.  The power to influence this young, barely virile boy cub was intoxicating.
	A moment went by, then another, and I did nothing but wait.  I knew it was cruel, but I didn't care, I was too turned on.  Finally, he whimpered, and tried to buck his hips into the glorified sex toy.  But it did no good.  It rose and descended with his motions, providing no stimulation to his straining boyhood.  
	“Quiet.” I cooed.  “It's almost time.”  I picked up the second syringe, and moved between his legs.  I cradled his testicles, and carefully inserted the needle into first one, then the other, dispensing half the contents into each.  I felt him tremble when the tip pierced his scrotum, enter into him.  I could feel his testicles swell slightly as the the contents of my syringe filled them.  I could practically see in my minds eye his little swimmers multiplying in frenzy.  
	Protocol was that I was to wait ten minutes before turning on the vacuum pump, or a premature ejaculation, whichever occurred first, to ensure that proper volume had been reached.  I stood there, mesmerized and so hot I had to unbutton my lab coat to cool off.  I knew Gavin was not one to ejaculate without some form of genital stimulation, so I stood there, casually stroking his chest and cooing while he whimpered, desperately trying to relieve his aching testis into the cool silicone.  I smiled, soaking in the sounds of his distress, imagining how the building pressure in his loins must've felt.  For more than twenty minutes, I toyed with him, petting and whispering sweet nothings into the echos of his discomfort.  
	Finally, I took pity on him, and walked over to the vacuum pump, delicately laying a finger upon the switch.  “Is this what you want, Gavin?”  I asked, in tones so sickly sweet, it would've poisoned a witch, or gagged an insect.  “To turn this on?”
	“Y-yes! P-p-please!”  Gavin begged between deep, heaving breaths.  It was amusing to me to watch as he continued to buck his hips uselessly into the harness, but watching him was beginning to corrode my self control.  
	I gave him no warning; not one second to prepare.  
	The sound of the powerful vacuum pump filled the room, the pneumatic arm upon which the masturbatory device had been attached being pulled up and down at a moderate pace.  It was only seconds before the whimpers turned to moans of ecstasy, and the first specimen was drawn.  I moved quickly, removing the collection tube, replacing it with another.  While I waited, I marked it with his name, age, and inmate ID, and set it into the refrigeration unit with the dozen other samples I had collected that day.  A few moments of panting relief, then the whimpers of over-stimulation began.  I ordered him to silence.  Characteristically, it lasted only a moment, when he burst outward with a mighty exhalation of pleasure, and ejaculated a second time.  I switched out the second sample with another vial.  Holding it up to the light, I admired the contents.  A one ounce tube, and it was over ninety percent full with his beautiful, thick, milky white emission.  
	Unconsciously, I licked my chops.  It had been a long time since I had dallied with a male, and I craved to have one fill me.  Heat continued to consume me from within; so bad was it now that I knew that I had badly misjudged my cycle.  It was frowned upon to fornicate with the cubs for personal benefit, but within my rights as an employee, and so I would take the relief.  But I couldn't let it interfere with my job.  With an effort, I placed the tube on the counter, but I could not mark it for I had taken too long, and Gavin ejaculated again.  I turned and switched it with the next tube.  Three more to go.  His grunts of pained over-stimulation were mixed with grunts of orgasmic release.  Musical though they were, it detracted greatly from my waning concentration.  
	Rummaging through a drawer, I claimed the muzzle reserved for the many who could not be silent or bit through their extractions.  I approached, and Gavin turned away to avoid my grasp, even as he moaned through his next release.  I grabbed his snout, efforts futile, and muzzled him.  Sounds muffled adequately, I switched out tube number three with number four.  It was not a moment to soon, as he ejaculated again, filling it.  Coming so soon on the heels of the previous, I wondered for the briefest of moments if he enjoyed being muzzled, then reached for the second to last tube, made the exchange, and held up the most recent to the light for inspection.  
	The volume of his semen had decreased, the marker level indicating eighty percent.  Still more than twice what would be expected without treatments.  The muffled noises continued unabated.  I marked the three specimen containers, placed them in refrigeration with the other, then turned to watch the show.  I knew from experience that it would take him much longer to ejaculate the last two times, and I settled in, listening to the muted cacophony of mingled pleasure and pain.  
	I could no longer fully control myself, and I let out the hem of my tucked shirt, making room for my questing paw.  The inside of my khakis were hot and humid, my swollen spade all the indication I needed to know that my heat had in fact sneaked upon me unawares.  Just the lightest touch from the tip of my claw sent shivers of pleasure rippling up and down my spine, through my vagina and tail, and down to my paws.  
	I made my way to Gavin, hand in my pants, and undid the snaps so I could hear his grunts in all their glory once again.  I didn't even wonder at why I put it on, only to loosen it not five minutes later.  I undid the button of my pants too, and Gavin watched, wide eyed as they spread open to reveal my panties, tented out by my hand, gently rubbing around the outer edge of my vulva.  He screwed his eyes shut, and with a loud groan that sounded much less pained than the one before, he ejaculated, the sight of me undoubtedly inciting him to climax.  
	With a huff, I withdrew my paw.  I wiped my moistened finger across his nose, leaving a trail of my pheromones over his sensitive olfactory organ and changed to the last collection tube.  He huffed the scent, and moaned in an altogether different way.  Soon I could get my own release, and extract one more extra special specimen from Gavin for myself.  I moved back to his side, and stood once again next to his head.  I pushed my pants down just below the level of the slab, and hooked my underwear to one side, exposing myself to him.  He looked up at me, confused and irritated, but I could see in the state of forced arousal he was in from the chemical cocktails that it was being over-ridden by lust.  
	I laid a paw upon the back of his head, and pushed his muzzle toward my groin.  He resisted me at first, but both I and the hormones I had injected him with were too strong, and he caved, burying his muzzle into my spade.  He licked at my vaginal opening with short, desperate licks.  Each one was maddening, so close to the stimulation I desired, but still falling oh so woefully short.  
	Gavin whined, the pump continuing to whir away, trying to draw the next sample from his tired, painfully erect penis.  With a gasp, he pulled away from me, tears beading in his eyes as the last was sucked viciously from him.  I huffed, but exerted myself to turn away and shut off the pump.  He sighed with relief, released from the constant sucking force, and his hips finally relaxed, falling to the table with a soft thump.  
	After I finished marking the last specimen, I released Gavin from the harness.  His knot, swollen and red, popped with a lewd, wet squelch that echoed through the room.  His penis throbbed visibly, bouncing in the cold air, covered in traces of his seminal emissions and still leaking more from the tip.  I stuck a finger inside the masturbatory device and collected a small amount on my finger and licked it, delighted that it retained its sweetness even in the light of the enzymes' presence and the recent change in the K.E.N.N.L.Es tube feeding diet composition.  
	I detached the toy, placed it in the auto-washer and turned to face Gavin.  He was pulling at his restraints.  “Why haven't you let me up yet?  Let me go!”
	“I'm not finished with you, Gavin, that's why.  I have one more sample to collect.”  I looked down to where my panties remained pulled aside and pants half way down my hips, vulva still exposed to the air.  I caressed it with a finger, clenching involuntarily.  I could feel my heartbeat through it.  I looked back to him to see he was unhappy.
	“P-please n-no, I'm sore.  I-I just wanna go back to my cell!”  Gavin whined.
	I ignored his plea.  He didn't even realize how well he had it.  Back when I had first started, the milkings were an hour, regardless of anything, and the milker was expected to play with the cub afterwards!  I knew I would be embarrassed by my actions when my heat ended, but I would not be denied.  Right where I stood, I shoved my khakis and panties to the ground, stepped out of them, threw my lab coat over the counter, and removed my shirt.  My ample breasts bounced and swayed, unsupported by a bra when I moved towards the cold hard metal upon which Gavin was still bound.
	For the first time since his third day, I saw real tears form in Gavin's eyes as I climbed onto the table and squatted over him, bringing my vagina into contact with his hot, wet, and sore erection.  I ground myself against him as he sniffled.  I almost tenderly wiped the tears from his eyes while ordering him to silence again, but it made no difference.  And with the warmth of his penis pushing unwillingly against my vulva when I adjusted myself, prepared to take his still knotted length into my birth canal, I couldn't really bring myself to care.  I knew he would start back up again, and I rather enjoyed the sound anyway.  I reached behind me, and grasped his testicles in a paw, fondling them, rolling them around.  The heat and heft felt unnatural, due entirely to my ministrations and injections, and was delighted.  
	I didn't bother checking to see if he was ready; I knew he wasn't.  I angled myself appropriately, dropped myself down on his penis, and felt it spear into me, spreading my flesh and reaching deep.  His knot bounced into the lips of my vulva.  It was much larger around than the rest of his penis, but it was still immature, and with a little effort, I worked it into me.  Triumphantly I sat upon Gavin's phallus, luxuriating in the warmth of a minor orgasm.  Soft moans sneaked into the chorus, woven in between light sniffles while I ground myself against him.  I couldn't stop clenching, my womanhood desperate to draw into itself a sample of its own.  I rested, waiting to regain a little control.  My spasming muscles relaxed, and I released his testicles.
	Like a piston, I flexed my knees and thighs, rising up, popping his knot out of me.  He gasped, then I plunged down again, forcing it back in.  I clenched hard as I could, gripping him with all the strength of my vaginal muscles.  I could feel him throb, and he cried out.  I rode him like a machine, up and down, his cock plunging in and out of me.  It squelched and slurped as it was dragged in and out, until at last his whimpers died, giving way to just the moans of a rising orgasm.
	“Give it to me, Gavin.  I want it.  Fill me!  I order you to cum in me!”  I could feel myself losing all self-control, my prized trait, but I didn't care.  I thrust myself upon that little cubs dick like it was the only way I could save myself from the heat flashes.  My body screamed at me, desperate for a fire hose to go off inside and douse the flames, and I yelled at him, much less coherently.  
	Gavin sprayed his semen into me a copious release, and the entirety of my vulva and birth canal rippled and seized around his shaft, milking him, mimicking the vacuum pump, drawing out his specimen for collection into my highly specialized tubes.  He moaned and cried, told me he loved me and hated me, swore, and struggled as he ejaculated, putting out the fire of the mating cycle.  
	As soon as my thoughts cleared, I removed myself from him.  I was still orgasming, though I was relaxing.  A gratuitous amount of his semen spilled out of me, drizzling like sweet glaze onto his still red, swollen, and raw penis.  A brief flash of irrational hatred of this cub that had so enthralled filled me, and in ill conceived spite, I shimmied up the length of his body, still straddling him, until my vulva was just above his muzzle.  I clamped his head between my knees so he couldn't turn away, and masturbated, dripping my semi-abated arousal laced with his own cooling seed onto his nose.  There, I brought myself to climax a second time, splashing his face with more of my more effeminate ejaculate.  
	Bright boy that he was, he opened his muzzle and drank the gush of fluids.  I wiped my soaked fingers against his chest fur, and dismounted.  I washed my paws in the sink, along with the other objects there, then calmly put on my clothes like nothing had happened.  I then released Gavin, who surprisingly appeared to have ejaculated again, presumably while I had been masturbating myself over his face.  
	Released from his restraints, Gavin rolled onto his side and away from me, but made no effort to get off the table.  He drew himself into a ball, knees to chest, tail between his legs, head tucked.  Walking around the table, I could see his erection, knot beginning to deflate.  I grabbed his wrists and ankles one at a time, checking for signs of injury.  He resisted, but I prevailed, and ascertained that he was perfectly fine.  
	“You may go when you are ready.”  I informed him.  Taking a seat at my desk, I began recording all the measurements I took.  Soon, I heard Gavin rise, and leave the room.  He closed the door like a good boy, so I decided it was best to just leave him be.  I would see him again in just a little under seven hours.