Hakar awoke to the gentle pinging of his phone’s alarm, the three-note melody pulling him from warm waters of a pleasant dream involving his older sister. Half-awake and his vision clouded with the remnants of sleep, he slapped his hand across his bedside table to snooze his alarm. The phone fell into silence, replaced by the gentle baritone hum of life support filters. Light strips set into the metal ceiling slowly blinked to life, a cool white meant to emulate a morning sun.
The tiger turned over in his bed, eyes drifting out the window as his vision focused, the clouds of his prurient nighttime fantasy slowly clearing from his vision, replaced by the Stygian expanse of space out the window. He craned his neck, searching for the brightest star in the sky. The sun—faintly twinkling among thousands of its siblings—meant little to him beyond its use as a navigational aid when peering out the ship’s many windows, as much as his parents tried to tell him otherwise.
He slipped his hands under the sheet, his erection dripping onto his stomach. Perhaps if not for his alarm, that dream would have turned into a wet one, as had happened recently. He squeezed his malehood, instinctively thrusting into his fist. No—it would have to wait. He promised.
He allowed himself the luxury of a few minutes on his phone; after all, his mind was still waking, and the hour was woefully early. He flicked through a bit of porn, the news, updates from his friend. His mother unlocked his phone when he turned twelve—if he was old enough that his male urges demanded his attention twice a day, they figured he was old enough to receive some assistance in the form of the ship’s intranet porn feeds.
The sounds of morning domesticity arrived from the living room in the form of a rumbling coffee machine and paw-steps on the metal floors, all of which indicated he had at most two minutes before someone would arrive to scold him for sleeping in. He kicked the sheets off his body and wrapped a towel around his midsection, pressing his implacable morning wood up and into his stomach, lest he tent the towel as he walked across the apartment to the shower.
The ship’s resource rationing system only allowed him four minutes of water; enough for a quick scrub before he stepped out, halfheartedly running the hair dryer over his fur as his morning wood still clamored for his attention.
Cherrie threw a maple-flavored breakfast bar at him the moment he walked out of the bathroom, water still dripping from his mop of sandy blonde hair. “The doctor’s office is nearly a twenty-minute walk from here, and you’re barely dressed!” His mother navigated around the cramped kitchen, naked above the waist (as if the tent in his jeans needed further assistance), her hands occupied with breakfast and her phone.
The housing office had given them a larger apartment when Hakar was born, but even the ship’s family units were barely large enough for the four of them—Cherrie had to squeeze between the table and the wall to get back to her room, nearly crashing into her eldest as Haze came out of the shower, towel still wrapped around her head.
Hakar collapsed onto a chair and dug into the breakfast bar, washing it down with a sip of his older sister’s coffee when she wasn’t looking. “It’s fine mom. I know how to get there.”
Cherrie sighed impatiently as she fumbled with the hook on her bra. “Good, because you’re on your own. Your father had to leave early. Furnicular maintenance people needed his help with some engineering…thing.”
Haze snatched her coffee out of her brother’s grasp. “Get your own, dude. Or maybe don’t. You’re hyper enough as is.”
“Am not!”
Haze spoke with one eye on her phone, rolling around her mug of coffee as though it were a glass of wine in need of aeration. “Hak, there’s less than one centimeter of aluminum between my room and yours. The things I hear at night suggest otherwise.”
Hakar stuck out his tongue, ears pinned to his head before chucking the breakfast bar wrapper in the trash. “That’s called libido, it’s perfectly healthy.”
“You two!” Cherrie buttoned up her jacket as she checked herself in the bathroom mirror. “It is seven in the morning.” She darted back into the living room with a lopsided limp as she searched for her other shoe. “Hak, you should get your tail out the door if you don’t want to be late.”
Hakar half-heartedly ran his hands through his damp hair as he grumbled a response in the affirmative; no matter how the rest of the morning would go, he couldn’t put it off any longer. He offered the bathroom mirror once last cursory glance before he slipped into his shoes and jacket and headed out the door.
The ESA Ark never truly slept. Endless shifts of maintenance technicians pumped through its cold titanium veins, closing wounds and mending bone, themselves supplied by ever-vigilant teams of metallurgists and engineers, the whole system forever shielding the Ark’s inhabitants from the cold grip of space. Even with those constant demands, the ship’s narrow corridors came to life during the morning rush, when the crush of thousands emptied from their apartments and into the veins of the beast.
Although he had started to grow like a sprout, Hakar was still a good head shorter than most adults, and he found himself squashed between a backpack and a briefcase as he leaned against the handrail of the autowalk, his tail tucked between his legs lest it get stepped on. Announcements pinged from the overhead speakers: Job postings in the hydroponics wing; the starboard inclinator was down; the newscaster’s union had negotiated a new contract; chairman Merrel congratulates the machinists union for beating their production targets for the third quarter in the row. Hakar’s ears perked at that last one. His father pulled a few strings to give him a tour of the CNC machines when he was ten—he had wanted to do it ever since. Another two years of schooling and the vocational programs might let him in.
There was no greater sin than wasted space on the Ark; Hakar could have extended his arm past the handrail of the autowalk and brushed the tips of his fingers against the airlock doors that lined the central corridor—computer repair shops, milling factories, 3D print farms, maintenance tunnels, restaurants—the Ark accommodated as much life as it could fit within its unyielding walls. One could walk from a brothel to a grocery store in a dozen paces; even from a young age, the Ark had given Hakar a rather proasic view of life, in all its uncensored glory: the ache he felt in his stomach for a substantial meal wasn’t that different from the ache that often struck him farther down.
Hakar got off the autowalk at the northern medical wing, stumbling slightly as he adjusted his balance. He had written his doctor’s office number down in his phone before he left—second floor, office five. The whole wing had a calming, antiseptic sort of smell, a marked change from the scent of metal and sweat that often defined the Ark.
A middle aged secretary with a kind smile offered him a nod as he walked in; he returned the look with an apprehensive grimace, his attention mostly on his phone. He knew what this visit entailed, but it hadn’t quite felt real until that moment, stepping past the glass and feeling the carpet under his feet. He tapped his phone to a panel on the front desk, the secretary’s laptop pinging cheerfully. She had him sign a few forms on a tablet before directing him to a row of uncomfortable metal chairs.
The walls, decorated with a variety of posters informing him of the importance of a healthy diet and exercise (try the new gym in wing 34B! Hungry? Eat a peach!) provided him with an odd sort of half-entertainment as he waited. A medical diagram of the female reproductive system, crammed between a TV and poster of a boy eating an apple, made his groin stir, his body still bitter about his lack of morning relief. A few others occupied the waiting room; a leopard around his age sat adjacent to him, shamelessly rubbing the bulge in his pants as he looked at his phone. Hakar briefly wondered if they were both there for the same reason.
A tigress with dark hair and piercing eyes sauntered into the room, tablet in hand.
“Hakar?”
The name was a formality, Alex had known Hakar since he was seven, when his mother had transferred to the starboard wing following her promotion. He still recalled being slightly disappointed after the move, when he learned that all the residential areas of the Ark were the same, save for the odd corner store or back alley in a different location.
Hakar bolted to his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he followed her back into the exam rooms, her starched lab coat fluttering pleasantly behind her. She opened a door and nodded for him to enter before she closed the door behind her.
“For the record—last name and age?” She tapped at her tablet.
“Lowel. Fourteen.”
She nodded and put her tablet down on her desk, beside an organized collection of latex gloves and medical instruments. Hakar leaned against the exam bed, shifting uneasily in his shoes as the disposable sheet crinkled behind him.
“So, Hakar, you’re fourteen.” she smiled warmly, the expression helping to loosen a knot of tension he felt in his stomach, “We’re supposed to do the reproductive health exams at thirteen, but we’ve been a bit backed up. Your birthday was only a month ago, so we’re not far behind.” She reached for a box of disposable gloves, the latex snapping against her skin. “I take it you know what you’re in for?”
“Yeah. Dad told me. And well, the intranet told me.”
She chuckled warmly. “I’m sure it did. Want to undress for me?”
Hakar didn’t waste a moment. He kicked off his shoes, pants and shirt after that, and placed them beside the sink, unsure to what degree such an exam called for good manners. He hesitated a moment before he hooked his thumbs under the elastic band of his underwear, his cheeks burning as his manhood stiffened. If the doctor noticed his hesitation before he finally stripped naked, she didn’t say anything. He sat the black polyester garment down atop his folded jeans, suddenly self-aware in a way he had never felt before.
Not sure what else to do, and brimming with nervous energy, he hopped on the exam bed and spread his legs, tail thumping against a nearby counter.
“Nice healthy erection!” She said, a gloved hand feeling his testicles. “Not even sixteen and already a handful. I take it you have no difficulty becoming erect?”
He squirmed slightly, resisting the urge to buck his hips into her touch. No one had ever handled him like that. “Nope. If anything I have difficulty not…you know. Every morning. A few times a day.”
She offered a sympathetic nod as she pulled down his foreskin, examining him closer. “You’re a young boy, it’s perfectly natural. Look at that—already producing pre-ejaculate. Good to see. Have you had sex?”
“Nope.”
She stepped back, returning to her tablet as she punched a few check boxes. “How often do you masturbate?”
“Ah, um—maybe three times a day.”
She nodded, entering the number in her chart. “Good. Nice high libido for a boy your age. Do you have wet dreams at all?”
“Ah. Sometimes. Not since I started jerking off more often.”
“Good, Good. Do you know when you started ejaculating? Did you ever have dry orgasms when you were younger?”
Hakar paused, trying to recall. “Maybe when I was 11? Don’t know. Always made a mess, it seems like.”
“Do you prefer pornography, or your imagination? Something else?”
“I, uh—you need to know that?”
She looked up from her tablet, nodding as she gave him a sage smile. “For some studies the government is doing. It’s okay, Hakar, I won’t judge you for anything you say.”
“Well, ah, mostly porn, but sometimes, well, ah…”
She typed a summary of his response. “It’s okay. Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
“Well, I like to watch mom and dad do it.”
She nodded, without the slightest hint of judgment or surprise. “You masturbate while you watch your parents have sex?”
He squirmed furiously in his seat, a bead of pre dripping down his erection. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to openly pleasure himself, his hands locking onto the side of the exam bed with an iron grip. “Yeah. Emergency airlock doors don’t close easily. So, you know, everyone leaves it open. It’s dark, so they don’t see me. I, uh, don’t usually last long when I watch. Just cum into my paw while I watch my mom get railed.”
“I did the same thing when I was your age.” The confession was as neutral as anything else she had said, a way heading off any sense of shame that might lead him to be flexible with the truth, but it was just lurid enough to push his libido even farther.
”…really?”
She nodded. “Of course. Is there anything your parents do in bed that you particularly enjoy watching?”
“I, ah, well…” He was so hard it physically hurt. The pre had started to drip down his testicles and pool on the disposable paper sheet put over the exam bed. “Do you really want to know?”
She looked up from her tablet, offering him a beaming smile, strands of her dark hair drifting down between her eyes. Hakar had never realized how pretty she was. “It would be good to, yes, Hakar. It’s okay. Take your name.”
The words had to work through a forest of embarrassment and arousal on the way to his lips. “Well, mom doesn’t…shave. Not like my sister does. So dad will pull out, and, ah, you know, get it all between her legs. On her bush.” He could have fried an egg on his cheeks.
The doctor nodded slowly, tapping away on her tablet. “Thanks for being honest. I was a little different. I loved listening to my father moan as he had his orgasm. I usually came along with him. Anyway—what genres of pornography do you prefer?”
Compared to the question about how the sight of his father panting his mom’s pussy got him off, that was utterly pedestrian.
“Oh! Ah, a little bit of everything. You know. Anal. Three-ways. Anything with lots of cum. Watersports. Incest too.”
Another non-judgmental nod. “The usual. Do you use any masturbation aids? Toys? Do you experiment in any other ways?”
“My dad got me some lube.” After the incest confession, he realized, nothing seemed shameful. “But ah, sometimes I’ll hump a pillow or, you know, find some used panties in the pile, if you get my drift.”
“Your mother’s?”
His throat was parched, and he was sweating like the men who worked the engine bays. “Mom’s. Definitely.” He paused, briefly. “So…you’ve heard all this before?”
“Of course.” She paused for a moment, finishing her notes. “We’ve been seeing a rise in incestuous behavior over the generations. We assume it’s because families end up in relatively small housing units with little privacy, and the fact that most of us are scientists, who are unlikely to reinforce social taboos. So yes, I’ve heard it all before. Honestly, compared to some of the things people tell me, that’s downright vanilla.”
Hakar, all the blood routed to the head between his legs, took his chance. “Can I ask you something about all this?”
“Of course.” She stood up, opening a cabinet to rummage around for something Hakar couldn’t see. “After all the questions I demand of you, it would only be fair for you to ask a few.”
“Did you ever, ah, do anything more than spy on your parents?”
She pulled out a small plastic sample cup, breaking the paper seal as she unscrewed the lid. “Yes. I masturbated with my father a few times when I was younger. The two of us had sex last year—under the tail, of course. Didn’t want to risk it.”
She handed him the cup. “Anyways, we need a sperm sample make sure you’re healthy and ready to reproduce. Think you can masturbate in front of me?”
He took the cup, turning it over in his hand. “You…need to watch?”
It was a pointless question; he was so worked up, he probably could have gotten off while getting thrown out an airlock.
“Yes.” She sat on the edge of her desk, her gaze falling across his naked body with a soft, maternal disposition. “To make sure you’re not doing anything that might hurt yourself.”
“Yeah, I, ah…” He placed the cup under his penis, his other hand slowly moving his foreskin up and down his head. “I think I can do this.”
He was rock hard, his blood pumping with a mix of arousal and fear. No one had ever seen him do this before. Pre oozed down from the tip of his erection and onto his hand, which he used to lubricate himself as he rubbed his thumb across the underside of his head.
He realized he left his phone in his jeans, now all the way across the room. Without really thinking about the implications, his eyes drifted up to the doctor, her cleavage just visible from the cut of her white shirt.
“I can strip down if you think that might help you.”
“Oh, uh—I would love that.” He had at most thirty seconds of stamina left in him, but there was no way he was going to decline an offer like that.
Her expression as professional as ever, she unzipped her jeans and pushed them down to her knees. She was wearing a pair of light green satin panties, which she simply pushed aside.
Hakar made a soft, needy moan, as any higher speech utterly lost to him. He had never seen a vulva up close before—she was much closer than her mother when she was in bed with his dad, or his sister when she was showering. He kept his eyes bolted to the cleft of her vulva, drinking in the detail of her inner labia and clitoral hood, surrounded by soft white fur. He licked his lips, his hand trembling as he stroked himself.
The doctor dipped two fingers between her legs, spreading herself. “When my dad and I masturbated together, he would usually cum on my pussy, same as your parents. One time he just came into my hand, so I could taste it. Must have been…sixteen at the time. I even pissed on him once, his stomach fur was more yellow than white—never seen a man ejaculate that much in my life.”
“Yeah, I ah, love watching stuff like that.” He flexed his hips as he kept his attention on his foreskin, liberal beads of pre keeping him lubricated. He tried to relax himself, holding off the orgasm that was building faster than he could keep it in check. “Almost as good as watching my parents go at it. Do you do this for all the boys that come in? Undress like this?” The words nearly got lost in his mouth, dry and scrambled by lust.
Alex dipped a finger between her legs. “If they ask nicely. A pleasant view plus some light teasing helps get the exam done in time, so it’s the sensible thing to do. Men have been masturbating around me since I was your age, so it hardly registers to me any more.” She eyed him keenly, either out of professional or personal interest. “Getting close, it looks like. Think you can give me a nice big load?”
Her encouragement pushed him over the edge. He angled his erection down, and not a moment too soon. His eyes rolled back, jaw slacked open in an ecstatic gape as he emptied himself into the jar. The head of his penis thumped against the rim as every twitch released a sizable squirt of milky seed, his whole body shuddering by the fifth shot into the cup, more than he could ever remember producing.
The room spun around him as he laid back on the bed, drenched in sweat. He lifted his hand, offering the container of his load.
She took it after she zipped herself back up, attaching the lid and placing the result of Hakar’s visit in a small refrigerator beside the door. “Not a bad volume for a fourteen year old boy, nice and virile.”
Without warning, she took a tissue from the box on her desk and used it to wipe the mess of semen and precum that had dripped down the bottom side of his wilting erection.
Hakar gasped, his penis achingly sensitive after the powerful orgasm. “Ah! I…didn’t expect that.” Her touch was incredibly gentle, and she lightly dabbed the tissue to collect the mess that had soaked into the fur around his testicles.
Alex crumpled up the tissue and chucked it in the trash. “Even if this is purely medical, it’s always best to provide some care for your partners or patients afterwards.”
He let his eyes settle on the ceiling, his temples pulsing in his head as he swam in the best orgasm he had ever felt. “So…what now? Is it true that might get used to knock someone up?”
“Now, that goes off to the lab for a sperm count and DNA sequencing. The whole Ark is only a few thousand people, so the government cares a lot about genetic diversity. If your DNA is a good fit for someone, we’ll call you back for a second sample.”
Hakar slowly brought himself to his feet, sluggishly reaching for his underwear as he dressed himself. “Weird to think I might get someone pregnant.”
She stood up, pressing the tablet to her chest as she waited for him to make himself proper. “It’s not that uncommon. My brother sired a child when he was twelve.”
Hakar left with thankful nod and an unexpected skip in his step, perhaps if he was lucky, they would find that match.