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The doctor’s office was very well appointed. I sat in a comfortable chair in front of a sturdy wood desk with an empty high backed leather chair behind it. There were certificates and art hanging on the walls, and a large bookcase weighed down by medical journals and other tomes. I wasn’t used to this kind of private, boutique office for a doctor. Then again, I’d never answered an ad for a medical study before. Who’s to say this isn’t the norm.
“WANTED,” read the ad. “Men aged 18-25 for participation in fertility research sponsored by private funding. Housing, food, and compensation provided, along with other benefits. Contact Dr. James LeBouef for further details.” I responded to the ad and a few days later received a phone call from a cheery nurse named Brendan, inviting me to come to their downtown office. When I arrived, Brendan quizzed me on a bank of psychological questions and ushered me into the room where I now sat.
“Good morning, Tommy. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long. I’m Doctor James.” A tall black man with a bald head and handsome, well trimmed beard had entered the room and extended his hand for me to shake.
“Good morning, Doctor. The wait was no trouble at all,” I responded with a grin. I found myself very attracted to the young doctor. He sat down and began to explain the project.
“We’re running privately funded research into Male Semen production and ejaculation. I’ve read through your questionnaire and you seem like a choice candidate!” That made me feel good, being chosen. “The experiment should take four days, over which we’ll provide you everything you need, and after that you might have the option to sign on for an additional length of time. That’s something we only offer to truly prime candidates though.”
“Well let’s see how I manage the first round, haha.” I was joking, but this was an exciting opportunity. And I definitely needed the money.
“Sounds great! We’ll go downstairs and do the physical examination.” Doctor James got up and led me to an elevator downstairs and into your typical examination. He asked me to change into the clothes provided and shout when I was ready. I closed the door and was alone. I pulled my shirt over my head and unbuckled my pants. There was a large mirror where I enjoyed the look of my toned, otter body in my black Calvin Klein briefs.
Off the examination table I picked up a plain white tshirt, it felt soft but like it was wicking. I put it on and in the mirror saw how form fitting the shirt was. They really nailed my size. I went to the gym but wasn’t super buff.But, this shirt really accentuated my pecs and I could even see my nipples peaking through.
I then noticed a pair of white boxers on the exam table. I never really liked boxers, they felt too…straight for me. With a shrug I removed my briefs and took one last look in the mirror before calling in Doctor James.
The door opened and the Doctor walked in, now wearing a white lab coat that had black cow spots. “Oh good, we got your sizes right,” he remarked, removing a stethoscope from his pocket. We ran through some standard medical tests, breathing, heart rate, and blood pressure. Doctor James then asked me to remove my shirt, and did a thorough examination of my chest. He was particularly interested in my nipples, which were caressed, proded, and at one point pinched. Normally, that would have made me deeply uncomfortable in a medical setting, but I did like having my nipples played with and Doctor James made me feel extremely at ease.
“Thank you Tommy. Would you now remove your boxers?” I complied and the doctor began to inspect my balls, taint, İstanbul Escort and every inch of my dick. “Have you ever bottomed Tommy? Have you used poppers?” I answered yes to both questions and Doctor James nodded his head. He opened a drawer under the counter on the wall and pulled out some black rings and a cloth tape measure. He took measurements of everything, both while I was soft and hard.
“Well Tommy, you’re certainly the right candidate! I’m personally really excited to get started on this project with you. You can put your clothes back on, and please return to the office tomorrow morning at 9:00am to begin the research. Make sure to wear those boxers and the shirt we’ve provided.”
“Sounds good Doctor! I’m really excited to and will be here bright and early,” I said reaching for my CKs. Doctor James immediately looked concerned, “oh Tommy I’m sorry but you can’t wear those. For our research we want to make sure your balls are not trapped against your body by constructing underwear. Why don’t you put on the white boxers and we’ll get you another pair for tomorrow.” He reached into another drawer and brought out an identical pair of boxers to the ones I was now putting on. It seemed odd that he was dictating my underwear, but I guess it made sense for research about semen. And Doctor James seemed so confident in himself, it didn’t make sense to argue.
We said our goodbyes and I went home. I knew I’d be gone for the next four days so I cleaned up my apartment a little, made my bed, and had some dinner. I went out to the bar to see some of my friends and ogle the hot men. When I got home, I was kinda horny. I stripped down and looked at myself in the white boxer shorts. They weren’t really my style but I liked them. I could see a prominent tent forming in them, and grabbed it. My hand on my penis felt so good.
I hopped into bed, opened up my laptop, and pulled up pornhub. It was some random video on the front page; not great, not horrible. I reached into my boxers and grabbed hold of my dick. I was already rock hard and leaking precum. I started going at it hard. Tight grip, quick strokes, working the head of my cock with delicious teasing strokes. It didn’t take long at all before I came, shooting a huge load up my chest where the cum got all entangled in my chest hair. I dipped two fingers into the puddle forming around my happy trail and, lifting them to my lips, tasted the sweet, salty cream my balls had produced. I was excited for tomorrow.
My alarm went off at 7:00 Tuesday morning. I had a raging boner, tenting my sheets and the boxers I was still wearing from before. I badly wanted to have another stroke but I thought they’d probably want my load at the office. Shit, should I have saved up last night’s load? I was so horny it hadn’t even occurred to me at the time. Oh well, I’ll be there for four days, they won’t miss last night’s cum.
I hopped in the shower, got out, put on the fresh pair of boxers Doctor James had given me along with the tight tshirt, threw on some sweatpants and got to work on breakfast. A fresh pot of coffee and some eggs and I was feeling like I could conquer the world. I grabbed my phone, keys, and wallet and was out the door.
On the walk to the Doctor’s office my mind was a whirlwind. Four days was an awful long time to be involved in an experiment. I wondered what exactly I would be doing over four days. A bunch of jerking off, I was certain. I noticed that all this horny thinking caused me to pop a boner. I looked down and was obviously tenting through my sweatpants. Damn boxers.
I arrived at the office and was welcomed Kadıköy Escort by Brendan. “Hi Tommy. So glad to see you again.” He was taller than me, stocky in his build, with some face piercings and a hot blond undercut. “We’re actually gonna go back downstairs, that’s where we conduct most of our activities.” He led me to the elevators, back to the floor where I’d had my exam.
“You’re the first one here so you get to pick your bunk.” I was ushered into what looked like a dorm room, with four wooden beds topped with mattresses with white sheets and black blankets. The room had a TV, a wash basin, and a row of four grey steel lockers, each with their own whiteboard on the front. One of the lockers had black writing on it:
This week: 7
I sat down on one of the wooden beds and was instructed to remove my sweatpants and shoes. Brendan showed me to a locker and told me to put my things in there. “There’s a pair of running shorts if you’d like to change into them or you can keep your boxers on.” I opted for the boxers. He then handed me a black marker and told me I could write my name on the white board. I signed in as TOMMY in chunky all caps.
“Great! The bathroom is over there if you need to use it,” I didn’t, “and we can take you over to the tanks and get our baseline.”
He led me down the hall to another door without a sign. He opened it and we were in a dark room. The first thing I noticed was the sound. There was a mechanical hum accompanied by a low moaning. I think I was visibly nervous because Brendan put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and said “hey it’s all good. We’re experts here.” There were four doors to smaller rooms here, almost like fitting rooms in the mall. One was closed and Brendan walked me through an open door. It was a lot like a changing room, with a small bench and a mirror. What was different was the TV and the large mechanical contraption in one corner. It almost looked like a bed, standing on its head. It had straps and tubes and wires all over it. Brendan told me to take off my boxers and position myself against the upended table. I complied and he began attaching wired pads to my body.
“These will give us readings on your body’s reactions. Nerve pulses, heart rate, blood pressure, all that good stuff.” He applied the last few wires to my chest and pulled down my shirt. Then he lifted my arms onto pads so they were outstretched. He made a few adjustments and asked if that was comfortable. I told him I was, and he began to tighten leather straps across my wrists, biceps, thighs, ankles, and midsection. “Hey wait I didn’t know you guys would be tying me up?!” This was certainly an alarming development! What if there was an emergency? Were they kidnapping me? A million bad thoughts ran through my mind.
“It’s all ok Tommy. These are just to protect the equipment and you from any spasms or flinching. They keep our methodology clean. If you want we can stop right now and go talk to Doctor LeBouef about this and set your mind at ease.” I took a deep breath. Like Doctor James, Brendan had a really calming presence about him. He looked concerned about me and my comfort and genuinely wanted to make sure I was ok. I shook my head and said, “no. Let’s keep going.” Brendan’s face lit up and I felt good, like I’d made him proud.
He finished strapping me in, and honestly, I was starting to get turned on by the bondage. He strapped my head to the board, and showed me a small tube next to my mouth. “This is a water tube in case you get thirsty during the process.” He then picked up what looked like an oxygen Ataşehir Escort mask, “this is our poppers delivery system. We won’t be using it this time, just so we can get a clean baseline from you, but the controls are here.” He gestured to a panel on the arm of the table holding up my right hand. “The wheel controls the poppers. These buttons will let you change the channel. And that big green button is for when you’re done with your session. Sometimes it works, and sometimes the Doctor has you on a program where he decides when you’re done.” Gesturing to my left hand, “that big red button is the emergency stop. If anything goes wrong, press that and all the machines will shut down and the Doctor or I will run in and help you.” “Ok. Here’s hoping I never need it.” “I hear that man. We’re almost done.”
He pulled over a long plastic tube with what looked like a black balloon inside. “This is the Milker. It’s an awesome piece of equipment that you’re gonna love.” He squirted a healthy amount of lube into it and slid it over my hard dick. “Alright Tommy. Have fun,” he said with a cheeky wink. He slid a pair of Bluetooth headphones over my ears and flipped a few switches. Suddenly the TV came on and I could hear it in my ears. It was porn, all types. Suddenly the Milker came to life. There was a small vibration and some sucking. It seemed my penis was in the black balloon and the pressure inside the tube was going up and down. I could tell how it got its name.
The porn on the TV was a bunch of twinks fucking. I could hear their cries and moans so clearly in my ears. The screen changed rapidly between scenes, never lasting more than a few seconds. Then a techno beat started up in my headphones, like I was at a dance club. I noticed that not only was the porn changing scenes on beat, but the pulses from the Milker were keeping time as well. The Milker was amazing. It felt like it was giving my penis was actually fucking a hole. The lube inside gave a delightful, wet squelch. I let out a soft moan from the back of my throat.
I watched the porn, listened to the beats, and lost track of time. I felt no control at all. Completely strapped down, being force fed porn, not even able to touch my own cock. It was insane. I remembered the other closet that I’d heard moaning from. Was there another boy getting milked too? We were sharing the intense pleasure in our cocks, separate, but united in bliss.
I started flipping through the porn channels. They all followed the same format: short clips of hot men having hot sex, edited together to match the dance beats playing in my headphones, while the moans, squeals, and sounds of flesh colliding rang out in my ears. There was the twink channel, a channel for bears, one for jocks, another for public play. Solo scenes and group scenes both had their own channel. Then I must have hit the fetish section. My eyes were bombarded by a wide variety of kinks. A large man tied to a cross getting whipped. Two boys being spat on while they worshiped sweaty socks. A gimp in full rubber was drinking the piss of a muscled daddy through a funnel. A jock in a locker room being fisted. All the while that beautiful plastic tube sucked my cock better than anyone else ever had.
I was sweating now. I tried to buck my hips into the devious machine as it did its work. There was a moan that carried between scenes, which had never happened before. It started rising in pitch, in frustration, in desperation. Only then did I realize the moaning was coming from my own mouth.
It was like lightning had struck me. I shuddered all over my body and felt the convulsions all the way to my toes as I exploded semen down the wonderful Milker. My orgasm seemed to go on for hours, as if I had more cum than blood. I cried out in searing bliss as the torrent of cum evacuated my balls.
Then the TV turned off. My headphones provided no more sound. And the Milker was still.
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