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Quality & Quantity By: LionBUff (part one) Duncan Heftfield walked into the fancy-looking science building through the glass double doors. The doors were labeled with a white decal that read "Seed Studies." He walked in wearing denim jeans that fit but still displayed his strong stiff body and a casual short-sleeve button-up shirt with shadows along his chest and one down the center of his stomach. His cowboy boots suggested that he wanted to show off his cowboy side while still looking nice. Duncan was told not to release any sperm for the past week for the study of his seed he scheduled. He wanted to get his official breeding license to become a professional horse breeder. He wanted a license to prove he would keep his horse farm full of foals. This was a little more than obvious in the bulge that waved as if it were a boulder behind his zipper. He checked in as if it were another doctor's office, waited, and eventually walked back to meet the sperm specialist. The room he was taken too looked like any other doctor's office except that it had more than one poster of the male organ. As Duncan stared at these maps of the male body, a slim male human walked in with the standard doctor's outfit and clipboard. "Duncan Heftfield, I am Dr. Sporos," the young 26-year-old human told him. He took a quick peek at his clipboard and said "so... you're a 3,000 pound Clydesdale bodybuilder. That alone makes you sound like a god of mating, to be honest," Dr. Sporos said growing a blushing tint on his cheeks. Duncan laughed quietly thinking Dr. Sporos' reaction was adorable and flattering. "The mares always say the same," Duncan pointed out arrogantly. Dr. Sporos looked at Duncan and said he would be surprised to hear otherwise. Dr. Sporos looked down at the bulge in Duncan's jeans to inspect his size and was frozen with lust and amazement to see just how big the lump was under his zipper. Duncan flexed his meat as soon as Dr. Sporos looked down. The golden zipper line seemed to crack a smile at Dr. Sporos, the zip itself jingled as if it were talking. "Anyways," Dr. Sporos said regaining his focus, "you've excelled at all our previous tests. You can shoot your seed at almost twice the distance of the average horse, your cock is more than heavy enough to get the mare to ovulate, the only thing we need to test now before you get your breeding license is the volume and quality. We need to know how much sperm is in your seamen and we need to know how much seamen you can produce in general. Basically, you need to demonstrate the Quality and Quantity of your seed." "Sounds fun," Duncan said smiling. His bulge turned into what looked like a small head breaking free from his jeans. Dr. Sporos noticed the bulge growing and said; "First, I need to check that you're physically healthy for the test. But honestly, I think you're ready!" Duncan stood up and stripped down. Dr. Sporos secretly wished Duncan was a little more dramatic with his undressing as he fantasized Duncan on a pole in a cheetah pattern jockstrap. "Take your time, I don't mind," Duncan said trying to make Dr. Sporos feel more relaxed. For ten minutes, Dr. Sporos' hands squeezed Duncan's heavy sperm sack like he was tenderizing it. He rolled his fingers around each testicle carefully, each individual musky orb was bigger than both Dr. Sporos' fist combined. He squeezed the scrotum the sack hung from as if he were milking an utter. Dr. Sporos felt how pent up Duncan's balls were. The heavy and slimy load slapping against the walls of his testicles felt like a bag of warm slime. Duncan grinned at how carefully the doctor under his cock was examining him. Duncan was half-hard when the doctor reached his cock. Like his sperm sack, the doctor squeezed his thick shaft as if he were milking it. Each inch of the 20-inch veiny pipe was squeezed carefully. After Dr. Sporos confirmed what was already obvious from Duncan's bulge alone he gave himself time to calm his meat down then put his coverings back on to be taken to the lab. It wasn't long before Duncan was in the "Seed Study" lab. This lab wasn't like anything Duncan had imagined, it was instead nothing short of a wet dream of a room. There was a heated seat on one end with a tv on the other end. in the middle was the machine that would extract his seed, a tube with a pipe held up by an industrial tripod with a clear tube on the end closest to the tv that attached to a bucket on the ground. "The bucket is about the size of a mare's womb, it tells us how full your partners will be," Dr. Sporos told him through a speaker on the ceiling. "Any questions?" Duncan looked at the black reflective tv screen and asked: "what's that supposed to do?" Dr. Sporos laughed and said; "Motivate you. When you're ready the tv will turn on and from there it's self-explanatory." "Got it," Duncan responded. "Ready?" Dr. Sporos asked in a slow and deep voice. Duncan unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. The sound of him stripping down in that small room echoed loud enough for Dr. Sporos to hear it over the mic. Dr. Sporos blushed to this sound and did his best to stay professional. "If anything goes wrong just yell, I'm going to be listening the whole time for safety reasons. Is that ok?" "Yeah it's fine," Duncan said dropping his pants. Duncan grabbed the bottom of his shirt and guided the fabric around his muscles. Duncan threw his shirt on the ground beside the stand and walked around the machine with nothing on. His heavy, full, musky balls swung around freely as he walked around. He wanted to see every last inch of this breeding machine before he made a mess out of it. He had used almost as many breeding mounts and cum collectors as actual mates but this one looked much nicer. He hadn't even heard of a bucket designed to hold the same volume as a mare's womb but there it was. Duncan remembers the size of every mare he's been with. Each time he finished their stomach was always noticeably inflated, shrunk back down as the mare absorbed all his seed, then grew to be only slightly bigger the day the foals were born. He wondered if the bucket could handle his load. Duncan knew there was only one way to figure that out as he inserted himself into the machine. His mushroom tip was a fraction of an inch away from the tip connecting to the bucket. His cock pushing against the tube turned the tv on in front of him. A logo popped up that read "The Best of Breeding." The top of the logo had a "stream of cum" that splashed out of the "hole" the cock was in and filled the screen with solid white before fading into black and revealing a menu screen. A logo popped up that read "The Best of Breeding."