The Donor – Female on Male


It was my friend Anne who told me about the clinic after the birth of
her daughter Maria. Anne is a lesbian who, along with her partner Janet,
wanted to have a baby but did not have enough money for common conventional
treatments. Anne told me that this clinic was the cheapest, easiest way to
have a child, costing only $10 for a sperm sample that was 95% guaranteed
to get you pregnant on the first try if you were ovulating the day of
implantation. Anne knew that my biological clock was also ticking, and
that my husband Joe’s sperm had been tested and had only a .05% chance of
ever getting me pregnant. Unfortunately, I, like Anne, lacked the money
needed to get a sperm donor.

“Are you desperate to have a baby?” she asked me.

“You know I am,” I told her.

“The clinic I went to,” Anne explained to me while breastfeeding Maria,
“is rather immoral in its means of collecting sperm. If that bothers you,
stop me right now. If you wouldn’t mind breaking the law to have a baby,
allow me to continue.”

I thought for a second. I had always been a devout Christian and had
never broken a law before. At the same time, I really wanted to have a
baby. I deliberated for a minute and told Anne, “I don’t care if I’m
breaking the law. I want to go to this clinic.”

“Well,” Anne began, “the clinic is downtown. You enter the house and
are directed into a room with a two-way glass mirror. Your donor is on the
other side of the mirror. You wait for half an hour while they prepare him
to give you the fresh sperm donation. Once you’re ready, they ask you to
remove your clothes and you enter the room. The donor is tied to a chair
and you sit on his lap until he’s aroused. Then you lower yourself so that
his erection enters your vagina and you continue to stimulate the donor
until he ejaculates into you.”

I couldn’t believe what Anne was telling me. “That sounds horrible!” I
shouted at her. “Besides, what kind of man would agree to do that? Only
one too hideously ugly to get any sex in the real world. And how do I know
that his sperm is any more potent than my husband’s?”

“First of all,” Anne explained, “being a donor is not voluntary. There
is only one donor in the whole clinic, David, and he has fathered 72
, my Maria included. In 2002, the owners of the clinic kidnapped
David. He was a tall, attractive, muscular stud, and they knew that many
women would want to mix his genes with theirs. The owners tied him to a
chair in their apartment in a special gas chamber which release gases 24
owners a day to encourage horniness and maximum sperm production. When
David is not being forced to give sperm donations, he is held at gun point
in the basement, made to exercize to ensure that he remains muscular and
attractive. He’s 25 years old and eats a special, sperm-friendly diet that
has made his sperm the most potent sperm in the world. He also receives
hormone shots that make his penis extra-sensitive, so that even
unattractive women who want his sperm are able to stimulate him. He’ll be
released in 2010, since all the years of gasing, shots, and special food
will likely render him sterile eventually.”

“So technically,” I asked Anne, “I’d be forcing a sex slave to
unwillingly give me his sperm?”

“Yes,” Anne answered. While, as a religious person I felt bad for
David, the thought of raping a man to have his baby turned me on. Besides,
72 other women had done it and been successful. The guy was having 24
per year. I had a little trouble believing that he wasn’t
enjoying this at all!

The more I thought about it, the more I decided that there was nothing
morally wrong with what I was doing. It wasn’t possible to rape a man.
When a man gets an erection, he’s giving you his consent. Besides, this
was a 25 year old guy. They were releasing him in 5 years. So what if he
was a sex slave for 8 years? He’ll have his whole life ahead of him (not
to mention at least 192 , which is really not bad!)

After a week of thinking about it, I made an appointment for Thursday
September 30, 2005. The night before, I decided to tell my husband Joe.

“I made an appointment to get a sperm donation tomorrow,” I told him.

“How are we going to afford this?” he sighed.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “It only costs 10 dollars. I want you to come
with me.”

“OK,” he said. I squeezed his hand. I loved Joe so much. He was going
to be a great father to our son.


We pulled up to the apartment and entered. My heart was pounding. I
wondered what the donor would look like. I wondered what Joe would say
when he saw how I was planning on getting pregnant. The owners saw my
worry and asked if my husband knew what the precedure was going to be. I
replied that he didn’t. Being that what went on in this apartment was very
illegal in every nation in the world, they said that I had to tell him now
or they wouldn’t allow me to go through with the procedure.

“Joe,” I said, “You know how much I want a baby, and unfortunately we
just can’t afford to have me implanted with a test-tube baby.”

“I know honey,” he replied. “Anything you need to do to get pregnant,
I’ll support. But they said this was against the law. What goes on in
this clinic?” he asked me.

The owners, two chic lesbians, interjected here, “75% of our clientele
is made up of lesbian couples who want boy, because most straight men
do not like what goes on at this clinic. Mr. Johnson, I urge you to
support your wife. She wants a baby. Tell us that it doesn’t matter that
what we do here is illegal.”

Joe pondered what the owners said for a moment, before finally saying,
“It doesn’t matter that it’s illegal. I want a baby just as badly as my
wife does and am willing to break the law to get one. I’m just curious.”

This satisfied the owners, and they led the way into the “conception
room.” It was hidden even better than the secret annex that Anne Frank
lived in during World War II. Even though this story happened only two
months ago, I cannot remember where in the apartment the conception room
was. It was a huge room divided in half by a mirror like the ones at
police departments, where you can see through but the person on the other
side cannot see you.

My husband Joe gasped at the sight of the man on the other side. “Is he
a sex slave?”

“Yes,” the owner replied, “he is an unwilling sperm donor whose 95%
successful sperm has impregnated 72 women in three years. Your wife will
be pregnancy #73.”

I could tell my husband would have no more objections when I glanced at
his crotch and noticed that he was quite turned on by the idea of my
straddling a male sex slave to get pregnant. Clearly, my husband and I
would re-enact this scenario in our own bedroom for years to come.

The man on the other side of the two-way mirror was gorgeous. He had
solid abs, beautiful pecs, olive-colored skin, and rock-hard muscles on his
arms. His hair was dark and he had long side-burns. I could not wait to
feel his youthful 25-year old sperm swimming into my 41-year old vagina.
For God’s sake, he had a vein bulging in each of his muscular biceps. He
was butt naked and had an absolutely disgusted look on his face. He
clearly hated being used by women to create children he didn’t want. I had
been wrong about his liking his role as a slave, but I was too damned
turned on at this point to turn back. I did not look at his penis. I
wanted to be surprised.

My husband and I shot excited glances at each other for a half hour
while the lesbian owners of David prepped him to give me a donation. All
they did was turn up the gas in his room, make sure his testicle
temperature was right, and give him a Viagra Pill. Finally the owners
opened the door to wave me in. My husband was not allowed in the room, but
he did ask the owners if he could masturbate himself as he watched from the
other side and they said yes. I stripped to my birthday suit and took a
deep breath. Finally, I followed the lesbians into the room where my son
or daughter would be conceived.

The entrance of the room was so that the donor’s back was to me. While
the owners supervised from the back of the room, I was allowed to approach
my donor and get down to business. The session would last as long as I,
the paying customer wanted. It felt like my heart was about to jump right
out of my chest. My husband was a very attractive man, but this kid was a
freaking sperm machine. Not only was he handsome and absolutely jacked,
but the situation into which I was about to embark turned me on majorly. I
placed my hands onto his shoulders and began rubbing them.

“ugggh, no,” he groaned. “Please, I don’t want to have sex with you. I
want to get out of here.”

I ignored the stud and continued rubbing him from behind, moving my
hands down to his rock-hard chest and molesting his neck with kisses. I
loved the fact that his manly stubble scratched my face.

“Please, I don’t want any more babies,” he said. “I’m 25 years old, I’m
a person not a sperm dispenser!”

All of his protests were just getting me hornier and my vagina began to
get wet. I put my finger in and held it up to his mouth. “You taste that?
You smell that? That’s my pussy juice. Does that make you hard, you
testosterone-filled skanky slave?” I taunted. I couldn’t believe the words
coming out of my mouth. I looked at the mirror, which I couldn’t see
through from this side, and laughed, knowing that my husband must have been
having a ball watching David and me.

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore and I walked around to meet David
face to face. I sat down right on top of him. It made me so hot seeing
the frightened look on his face, and watching the veins in his neck bulge
as he fought uselessly against the arm and leg restraints. I held his
beautiful face in my hands and looked into his solid-blue eyes. “Let’s
make a baby,” I said in my most seductive voice. I ran my hands along
David’s chest and abs as I planted kiss after kiss on his ruby red lips.
Finally the beast was rock hard against me, and I taunted him with my left
hand, yanking on it. “David can’t control his cock,” I teased. “His cock
that is about to spray sperm into me and get me pregnant.” My vagina was
leaking pussy all over his muscular legs by the time I told him, “My
husband is watching you get me pregnant, I hope that isn’t too much

David was squirming away from me like crazy, and it was a joy kissing
him all over. But I had had enough with foreplay. I wanted him inside of
me. So I slowly lowered myself until I was right over his rock-hard
erection (which was truly a beautiful uncircumcised penis, with just enough
veins and a respectable length.) I looked straight into David’s beautiful
deep-blue eyes and finally inserted him into me. His eyelashes fluttered
as pleasure overcame him.

I wrapped my arms around David’s shoulders and rubbed my breasts in his
face as I thrust his cock into me over and over, again. His face was beet
red and his cock was hard enough to break ice. “Oh, David, shoot into me
now,” I panted. “Make me pregnant with your powerful sperm.”

“Please… stop…” he begged, ignoring the pleasure which must have
been overcoming his gorgeous body.

“Never baby,” I said, holding his face tight and rubbing it against my
boobs as I repeated my up and down grind every more quickly over his cock.
Finally I couldn’t take it any more and clamped down on him as I had a
mind-shattering orgasm. I felt David drooling on my boobs and finally all
his muscles tensed up as he let loose into me. I felt his strong sperm
shooting straight up into me.

“Yes, yes, more, more,” I begged him, and he relented, sending shot
after shot of his wonderfully potent sperm into me. I prayed that they
were finding their way to my waiting egg and that he would fertilize me
just like he’d fertilized 72 other women. After almost a minute of
cumming, David stopped, and I kept him inside of me for 5 minutes as he
softened. Finally I got off of him.

“Goodbye, honey,” I said, leaving him with a parting kiss and exploring
his gorgeous body one last time with both hands. I then exited the room.

How useful was this post?

Click on a star to rate it!

Average rating 0 / 5. Vote count: 0

No votes so far! Be the first to rate this post.

Leave a Comment