Chair

A boy ignores his father’s instructions not to touch his inventions, with shocking consequences.

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Chair

“Hey dad, what’s that?”

 

John looked up from his computer to his son with a look of irritation.

 

“Noah how many times do I have to tell you not to come into my workshop?”

 

“I know dad but it’s seven O’clock and we still haven’t had dinner yet. I’m starving.”

 

John glanced at his watch. Noah was correct. It was so easy to lose track of time when he was working, but it was unfair of him to neglect his son. It was bad enough that there was no woman in the house to share the job of raising him. John’s expression of irritation mellowed.

 

“I’m sorry son. Give me ten more minutes to finish this and I’ll be right with you.”

 

“No problem dad,” Noah said cheerfully. “But what’s this for.”

 

The boy leaned over, scrutinising the device standing in the middle of the room. It looked like a futuristic dentist’s chair with lots of attachments. Noah reached to touch a part of the device.

 

“Stop! What have I told you about touching things that don’t concern you?”

 

Noah stopped in his tracks, his hand outstretched. He turned and looked at his dad, a sheepish grin on his face. He made as if to touch the device again and made a staccato noise.

 

 “Ah.”

 

He reached a bit closer.

 

“No Noah.”

 

“Ahhh”

 

Closer still.

 

“No!”

 

“Ah ah ah ahhh.”

 

Noah reached out till his hand was a centimetre from the device. His father grinned at his son’s sense of humour and slapped his son’s hand away with a grin..

 

“So what is it dad?” Noah asked again, standing upright and moving his hand away.

 

“It’s umm, sort of an entertainment machine.”

 

“An entertainment device? It looks like a dentist’s chair. How does it work?”

 

John looked at his son and debated whether or not the boy was old enough to hear the truth. The kid was twelve years old. Was he aware of sex stuff yet? There was no evidence he was but John had seen the kid walking to the bathroom on several occasions in the mornings seemingly oblivious of the morning wood tenting his briefs. His plumbing appeared to be gearing up for action even if the kid didn’t yet know what to do with it.

 

“Well, to be honest, it’s a masturbation machine. Do you know what masturbation is?”

 

Noah grinned and made a tiny pumping gesture with his fist. John couldn’t help but wonder if the size of the gesture indicated what his son had to work with. He resisted the urge to ask if his son had started masturbating yet. Instead he smiled back.

 

“That’s right. In a confined space like a submarine or a prison, sexual tension can be a massive problem. You don’t want your bunk mate constantly masturbating in the same room as you, but guys can get very aggressive when they’re horny. Once every couple of weeks in this chair will ensure that the men stay happy but aren’t constantly thinking about sex.”

 

Noah was beyond fascinated.

 

“What does it do?”

 

His father repeated the same masturbation gesture Noah had just used. His son’s jaw opened wide as the implications occurred to him.

 

“How does it work?”

 

John pointed to a plastic hood over the mid-point of the chair.

 

“That comes down over the guy’s groin. His penis goes inside.”

 

“Then what?”

 

“Then it sucks him.”

 

“Sucks?”

 

The thought of someone getting their penis sucked was nor even a part of Noah’s experience yet.

 

“Yes, in a manner of speaking.”

 

Noah thought about it for a while.

 

“Have you… Have you tried it out yet?”

 

John smiled.

 

“Yes a few times. I have to make sure it works.”

 

Noah’s eyes grew wide.

 

“What does it feel like?”

 

John’s smile widened.

 

“Extremely good actually.”

 

John noticed a lump had appeared in the front of his son’s shorts. He wondered if the boy was aware of what it meant to feel horny yet. He was overdue having the sex talk. He’d have to have it soon.

 

“Does it um… adjust to different size penises?”

 

John looked at his son.

 

“I know what you’re thinking Noah. Just forget it. I don’t want you in my workshop. I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

 

“Thinking? I don’t know what you mean,” Noah lied, blushing. “I was just wondering what if the sailors had smaller… different sized wieners.”

 

“It can cope just fine. It’s all automatic.”

 

John shut down his PC and stood up. Draping his arm around Noah’s shoulders, he lead the boy from the room.

 

“C’mon Noah, let’s eat.”

 

 

 

It took five weeks before Noah’s father finally left him on his own for long enough to allow the boy to get a proper look at the device. John had a date. He didn’t like to leave Noah on his own long after dark. The boy was too old for baby sitters but too young to be left alone late.

 

“Okay, I’ll be back by 9. Call me if you have any problems okay?”

 

“Sure dad.”

 

Noah barely glanced up from the TV, playing it casual, but as soon as the front door closed, he was on his feet and sprinting to his bedroom which overlooked the drive. He watched from behind the blinds as his father pulled out of the drive and continued watching as his dad’s car proceeded along the quiet suburban street. It was only when the vehicle turned at the intersection 200 yards away that Noah ran back downstairs to his father’s workshop. It was an extension at the back of the house, big enough to contain a large SUV, although it had never housed a vehicle. It was soundproofed so that he could work day or night without disturbing anyone.

 

His father was some kind of scientist whose work was often used by the government. Noah didn’t really understand why so much of his dad’s work seemed to be based around sex machines and in the past he hadn’t cared much about it, but just recently, the thought of his dad’s work had become a source of great curiosity to him. In fact, it made him feel funny in his tummy when he thought about it. His father had prohibited him repeatedly from entering his workshop, but Noah managed to manufacture an almost endless stream of vital reasons to visit his dad while he was working. John recognised his son’s curiosity with a mixture of amusement and caution.

 

 

 

The boy entered the large workshop and turned on the overhead light. To the right, stood his father’s desk, its surface cluttered with documents, manuals and pieces of paper. There was also a computer monitor and keyboard. Around the walls were shelves and various pieces of equipment, but Noah was only interested in one thing – the large device in the centre of the room. He walked over and examined it. The main component was a black vinyl padded chair itself which was tilted backwards at an angle of 45 degrees. It had two separate padded leg supports with a raised divide between them.

 

But the bit that most interested Noah was the part that was suspended two feet over the mid-section of the chair where the user’s groin would be. It looked like an oversized codpiece attached to a series articulated arms. The edge was rimmed with soft padded vinyl. Noah dropped to his knees to look inside. Six inches in was a latex rubber cup with an opening at the far end. It didn’t take much effort to imagine where the cup was designed to fit. It gave Noah a boner just thinking about it. Then he remembered that his father had tested the device. His dad’s dick had gone in there. Noah’s erection got even harder. He adjusted it in his shorts, breathing heavily.

 

He continued examining the device for a further five minutes before he decided that he was going to risk giving it a try. If his father had already used it, it must be safe. There was a power switch on the front nearest his dad’s desk. Noah turned it on hoping that it would not record his use. A light next to the switch lit up and a female voice came from a speaker near the head of the chair.

 

“Unit activated. Please register operator.”

 

Noah looked at the speaker, surprised. What did “Register operator” mean?

 

“Umm, help?”

 

“Unit help. Please register operator first. Please state your name.”

 

“Errr, Noah Parker.”

 

“Operator Noah Parker. Recognise. Please count from one to ten for voice profile.”

 

Noah counted slowly from one to ten.

 

“Thank you. Voice profile generated.  Help summary. “Program start” to activate unit. “Stop” to pause current activity. “Program cancel” to cancel current program. “Change operator” to change or add a registered operator. All other commands are interactive during program commencement.”

 

 

It seemed almost too simple. Noah decided to test the program.

 

“Program start.”

 

“No subject present. A subject must be seated before program can commence.”

 

Noah was not surprised but he had really hoped to see how the chair operated before committing fully to it. He tried one more ploy in order to trick the chair into revealing its secrets. Still wearing shorts, he sat on the chair with his knees either side of the central divide.

 

“Program start.”

 

A blue/white scanning light shone from an overhead emitter and swept down his body in a three-foot wide strip.

 

“User is clothed. Please remove clothes before activation.”

 

Noah swallowed. He was not going to able to fool the device into giving up its secrets unless he was willing to commit fully to it. He was nervous and excited in equal measure. He clambered from the chair and pulled off his T-shirt, then he pushed his shorts and underwear down his thighs and shimmied them to the floor. His erection had disappeared. He looked down at his dick – two and a half inches. An average length for his age, but it was thicker than most kids in his grade.  It looked like a short chipolata hanging between his legs. Like the rest of his body it had a lightly tanned colour that erroneously suggested that Noah spent time nude in the sun. Even his circumcised glans was exactly the same colour.

 

Naked now, Noah sat on the seat and tried again.

 

“Program start.”

 

The same light scanned him.

 

“Subject present. Number of wet orgasms?”

 

Noah had never even had one. He had no idea how they felt but he was eager to find out. What was a good number? He remembered from sex ed at school that it only took boys five minutes to jack off. He had three hours till his dad got home. He decided to start small.

 

“Ten.”

 

That would give him plenty of spare time and if he enjoyed it, he would still have time for lots more.

 

 

“Program paused Subject must grip side handles. Say “Resume” to continue.”

 

Side handles? He leaned to the right and scanned the chair’s stand. There was a motorcycle-style handgrip two-and-a-half feet beneath his shoulder. He gripped first one then the other grip. His arms were dangling straight back at the shoulders.

 

“Resume.”

 

Noah felt something wrapping around each closed fist, securing his hands to the grips, then the grips moved downwards pulling his shoulder blades against the chair.

 

“I’d better test that I can cancel it before it goes too far,” he thought.

 

“Program stop.”

 

“Program paused. Please say “Resume” to continue or “Program cancel” to exit cycle.”

 

Satisfied that he could stop the program at any time, noah said, “Resume.”

 

 

Restraints emerged from the chair between his thighs and around his waist before retracting and pulling him firmly against the chair. He was becoming mildly concerned by the restraint. He couldn’t understand why a user would need to be locked in, but he reassured himself yet again, that the device was not meant for anything nefarious; it was for pleasure. More restraints emerged, trapping his knees against the inner divider.

 

Two rollers lowered in front of his face, each six inches wide but no thicker than a finger. One of the foam-covered metal rollers moved in underneath his nose, whilst the other pressed the curve between his chin and his bottom lip. Noah watched, bemused. Pressing firmly against his face, the two rollers started to move apart, one up and one down. They were forcing his mouth open. Suddenly he recognised the danger.

 

“Ogang Oh!” he yelled.

 

Without the use of his lips, he could not enunciate the stop command. He tried again, panicking now.

 

“Ohhh ghang oh!”

 

No matter how carefully he tried, he just couldn’t enunciate the hard consonants that would make his words intelligible.

 

A rubber ball gag lowered into sight. Noah had never seen one before and he didn’t recognise its purpose. It was pushed firmly into his mouth and held there, silencing any further attempts he might make to cancel the program, and pinning his head back against the headrest. Noah realised now that he was strapped down for the entire duration of the program. He only hoped it would be a pleasant experience.

 

 

The computer said, “Securing testicles.”

 

Noah felt the divider between his knees splitting and the two halves moving apart, rotating at a pivot point beneath his bottom. It was not at all surprising that the device would move his legs apart. After all, it provided better access to his groin. But it still increased his feeling of vulnerability.

 

Noah’s nuts drooped heavy between his legs. He felt that they were his best feature. Not quite man-sized, but much larger and heavier than his friends. Some of their nuts were barely visible, and the best of them were little larger than small grapes, whilst Noah’s were twice as large as that, and they hung low and loose in his smooth sack.

 

To his dismay, he felt something gripping his sack now. It rummaged around as though searching for something then he felt each of his testicles being gripped. The experience was all the more unsettling for the fact that he couldn’t even look down at his groin to see what was happening.

 

 

“Inserting rectal probe.”

 

He felt the chair beneath his bottom moving. It seemed that the divider was not the only part that split down the middle. As the two halves of the seat moved apart, Noah could feel the cheeks of his bottom being pulled with them, revealing his butthole. He squirmed and tried to lift out of the seat, but he was firmly secured with virtually no movement. He could feel air on his hairless hole but he could imagine no possible reason why its exposure would be desirable. Then he felt a slippery probe touching his tight pucker. He tensed against it, but the slender wand easily pushed past his virgin hole, sliding smoothly up inside him until it touched his prostate.

 

 

“Inducing erection.”

 

Noah felt a pulsing sensation deep inside where the probe was touching him. It was not a movement, but the low throbbing of an A/C current applied directly to the boy’s prostate and it had a rapid effect. Noah’s thick young penis was curled between his legs, but its head raised, then it straightened, and in almost no time it was straining between his legs. He’d been hard a lot recently. He hadn’t try jacking it yet, but he liked the feeling of being hard, and he often toyed with it when it got like that. Now it was straining hard, standing at right angles between his legs.

 

He felt a soft claw gripping his shaft, pointing it towards the hood. Then there was the quiet sound of motors activating as the hood was lowered into place. Noah felt his helmet touch the soft rubber cup within. The cup pressed firmly against his glans then wrapped around it, surrounding his sensitive boyflesh with soft rubber. It felt warm and sticky.

 

The image of his father’s penis in exactly the same position as his own popped into Noah’s head. He felt strangely connected to his dad by the knowledge. How wondered how large his dad’s boner was. Noah wondered if his dad got the same shivering feelings in his dick as the cup wrapped around his helmet, or was it simply because it was Noah’s first time being touched there? The base of Noah’s cock clenched involuntarily as he thought about his dad’s boner.

 

The hood continued moving lower, pressing against the front of Noah’s pelvis, pressing the boy into the chair, making it impossible for the naïve twelve-year-old to lift his hole off the probe, or to escape the cup that enfolded his glans.

 

 

“Commencing cycle.”

 

The probe had served its purpose in inducing the boy’s erection, now it moved on to its primary function. It thickened, stretching his virgin asshole, and then started sliding in and out of the boy’s hole. The surface was covered in deep radial grooves, and each time one of them passed his sphincter, Noah experienced a small thrill of pleasure. The pumping motion was not particularly fast, just a couple of powerful thrusts every second, but at the bottom of each stroke it massaged his prostate, and the momentary current was enough to ensure that even if he wanted to, Noah could not lose his erection.

 

Noah had never seen anyone getting fucked in the ass, but he knew that was exactly what was happening to him. That was so fucking gay! The thought that he was being gay butt-fucked alarmed him, but he was even more dismayed by how much his body was responding to the experience. Each time the dildo pressed his prostate he felt like he wanted to pee; the kind of pee that you’ve had to hold in too long, that makes you let out an “Ahhhhh” of pleasure when you do it.

 

 

Simultaneously, the cup around his glans sparked into life. His four-inch salami was held immobile within the hood. Inside the cup closed and opened like a sea anemone trapping food then extending its tentacles. Within, the analogy was even more similar. What had superficially appeared to Noah to be a single rubber surface was in fact comprised of hundreds of soft nodules, each of which rippled and swayed slimily across the surface of his glans. Lubricant oozed between them, ensuring that the tip of each nodule produced minimal friction whilst stimulating the hyper-sensitive nerves in the boy’s glans. Noah’s former casual penis play had stayed away from touching the surface of his glans. He’d mostly moved his penis from side to side, enjoying its hardness, and on a few occasions had toyed with rudimentary masturbatory pumping using his thumb and first two fingers. It had been enjoyable enough in a desultory kind of way, but had fallen a million miles of what he was now experiencing. Every millimetre of his glans, and behind its small streamlined corona was lit up with tiny zaps of sensation, each walking the narrow line between pleasure and pain. He squirmed, his body instinctively attempting to pull his stubby cock away from the source of such overwhelming feelings, but even the centimetre or so that he did retreat, at the cost of impaling himself deeper on the dildo, did nothing to alleviate the cock massage. The cup simply moved with him, maintaining the intensity the whole time.

 

“Oh god!” he groaned unintelligibly, as he experienced feelings and emotions he had never even known existed before now.

 

Noah had heard that masturbation and sex were pleasurable but it had never in his wildest imagination occurred to him that it could be so all-consumingly pleasurable; so incapacitating.

 

He pulled at the handles, tensing in sublime agony as his body was forced to a peak of ecstasy beyond his former imagination. His eyes screwed tight shut, mouth in a wide grimace, facing towards the ceiling as the machine worked his body over better than Mr Miyagi on Daniel’s knee.

 

Then testicle shakers kicked in. Each testicle started shaking, moving in centimetre long lines, vibrating in opposition to each other. Noah had always known that his balls were a vulnerability in a fight, but now he realised in an instant that they could be just as disabling at the height of pleasure. He let out a squealing throat groan that went on and on, for over 30 seconds, his young vocal chords caught halfway between the treble of childhood and the deeper pitch of young adulthood. It felt like there was a surging wave of joy spreading from his balls.

 

In a few days, Noah would ponder whether the premature size of his testicles had contributed to the power of the feelings he experienced, but right now, he couldn’t even think. His eyelids fluttered open and he gazed off on a thousand-mile stare, his vision focussed on a point far beyond the room he was in.

 

His boyish biceps strained as he pulled at handles with all the strength in his young arms. His groin was aglow with ecstasy, then he felt something new, something his young body had never experienced before; a surging rush, a rising tide of pleasure. His groan became a continuous strangled boyish gurgle, then it happened. He felt it squirting from him. High pressure up his urethra and a repeated clenching in balls as Noah experienced his first orgasm. He writhed as though he had been dropped into a vat of boiling water, but nothing he could do removed his hole or his balls or his dickhead away from the devices that were relentlessly milking him.

 

“Orgasm number one.”

 

 

The machine’s words somehow penetrated the fog of his euphoria. Number one? How many were there going to… Oh god no! He’d set it to ten. There was no way he could go through nine more of those! Noah HAD to get his mouth free and cancel the program. For 30 seconds he struggled as though his life depended upon it, desperately trying to twist his head or push the gag away using his neck muscles. The braces in his mouth bit deeply into his lips and he could taste the blood flowing, but that was nothing to the feeling in his penis. Now that he had ejaculated, the rim of the cap switched to a gentle back and forth twisting motion teasing the rear of his corona. The machine didn’t allow him a single second’s rest and his dick was incredibly sensitive.

 

Noah couldn’t move his head from the head rest at the back of the chair nor could he push the gag away, but now he felt all his strength draining away as a mixture of orgasmic bliss and refractory sensitivity made him weak as a kitten. He collapsed, trembling like a frightened animal as his father’s machine relentlessly continued expertly masturbating him, arousing him with greater precision than any human could ever possibly manage, tirelessly repeating the perfect actions to maintain the boy at maximum arousal.

 

Noah came again and the machine intoned “Orgasm number two.”

 

He knew now that he was powerless to resist. That the machine would continue forcing him to give up his boyish semen until he had squirted ten times. He felt drool leaking from his mouth past the ball gag. All he could do was recline motionless and try to endure the sensations. He hoped that if he didn’t resist, his orgasms would come easier but he was mistaken.

 

After a few minutes, the machine announced what he already knew.

 

“Orgasm number three.”

 

 

It was another five minutes before the rush that he knew would precede the next announcement. His orgasms were getting further apart. His mind was consumed by the bittersweet pleasure his body was experiencing, held at constant plateau that made it hard to think. But some part of him noticed that something was wrong. Where was the announcement? He struggled through the mind-haze to think. Had he somehow missed it?

 

The machine continued working him, and after another five minutes he felt the rushing feeling. And again, the machine was silent.

 

“What’s wrong?!” he thought. “Come on, you’ve got to count!! I can’t take much more of this.”

 

The machine continued, heedless of his concerns or his inability to produce any more semen. It implacably continued milking the boy, waiting patiently for his fourth wet orgasm.

 

 

Two hours after Noah’s first orgasm, his father entered the workshop. He took one glance at his son immobilised in his machine and blew his top. His son’s hairless nuts were vibrating between his legs.

 

“Noah what the fuck are you doing? I told you not to play with my equipment. This isn’t a toy for you to jerk off with for fuck sake!”

 

He glanced at the readout by Noah’s head. It read “Wet orgasms 4. Dry orgasms 17.”

 

Noah was staring back at him with weary, scared eyes. The boy whimpered pitifully. John frowned.

 

“You got stuck in the machine?”

 

Noah whimpered his acknowledgement.

 

“Now you understand why I tell you not to mess with my stuff.”

 

Noah whimpered again, desperate for his father to switch off the machine. But he knew that he had to endure any “told you so” lectures his father cared to deliver first. He just prayed that they’d be qui… The counter increased to 18. His father grinned.

 

“Just came again huh? 22 times. You must be losing your mind in there Noah huh?”

 

Noah whimpered his agreement. John turned on his computer and switched it on, deliberately taking his time. When it had powered up, he loaded the Milker’s settings program.

 

“You know that thing has lots more settings. It’s only on 25% right now. What say we turn it all the way up to 100?”

 

Noah squealed, desperately trying to deter his angry father. Then everything went into overdrive and he came again almost instantly as a thermonuclear blast of pleasure radiated from his balls. John looked at the counter with a grin.

 

“I think I’ll leave you here for another hour on full. Perhaps that’ll teach you not to mess with things that you shouldn’t. Noah’s brown wet doe eyes grew wide as saucers, imploring his father to cancel the program. His father stood, still angry, with his hands on his hips, watching his son. The counter ticked over to 19. It had barely been two minutes since the last one. John grinned maliciously then left the room, turning off the light and closing the door. He knew that sitting in total darkness, his son’s orgasms would be even more powerful.

 

 

He planned to leave the disobedient brat to suffer for fifteen minutes before turning him off. Another five or ten orgasms would hopefully be enough to teach the kid forever to stay away from his workshop.

 

John sighed angrily. His date had gone badly and he’d left early. He was in a stinking mood. He sat on the couch with a bottle of whiskey. He took a large swig straight from the bottle. He’d just have another then he would go set his son free. Noah wasn’t a bad kid at all really. He was just mischievous, and he let his curiosity get the better of him. John took another huge slug from the bottle.

 

 

 

Daylight streamed through the blinds. John’s eyes flickered open. He was on the couch why had he fallen asleep on the… Noah! He suddenly realised his son had been left in the machine all night. He leapt to his feet and sprinted to the workshop turning the light on as he entered. The machine was still running and Noah was staring catatonically up at the ceiling. Rivers of drool hung from his chin. The counter increased by one. Wet orgasms 8. Dry orgasms 728.

 

“Oh god Noah, I’m sorry.”

 

Noah didn’t respond.

 

“I’ve got to shut it down with the computer. It’s locked to your voice. If I just turn it off, you’ll be trapped inside it.”

 

The computer took two minutes to boot and another 30 seconds for John to load the control software. He clicked the icon labelled Program Cancel, and the machine finally stopped masturbating his son. John turned to the boy. The machine was withdrawing the restraints that had held him captive. Noah remained motionless, then his head slowly lolled lifelessly to the side. John glanced again at the counter. It had increased by four in the time it took him to turn the program off. John leaned forwards and lightly slapped his son on the cheek.

 

“Hey Noah, son, you in there?”

 

The boy showed no signs that he had heard. His father slapped him harder.

 

“Noah!”

 

The boy’s eyes turned to his father’s face with infinite slowness, as though they were dragging heavy weights. John held his son’s cheeks between the fingers of one hand.

 

“That’s it son. Are you alright?”

 

The boy’s eyes slowly focussed, and lips moved as sluggishly as his eyes had. No sound came out.

 

“Noah I’m so sorry I left you all night. It… it was an accident.”

 

His son’s lips moved again, as though building up momentum. Eventually in a hoarse voice Noah said, “No more orgasm.”

 

“No, no more orgasms. I turned it off.”

 

John looked down. His son’s chub was still hard and twitching, as though he was still coming. The boy’s testicles were bright pink, the flesh of his scrotum abraded by eleven hours of shaking. John reached down and cupped his son’s testicles. They were hot to the touch.

 

“Coming for that long has probably short-circuited or overheated them,” he reasoned.

 

“Are your balls hurting?” he asked.

 

“No. More. Orgasm,” Noah repeated pitifully, each word an effort.

 

John scooped his son out of the chair and lifted him into his arms. The boy was too heavy to carry under his armpits and knees any more, but John could still manage to hold the boy with his hands linked under his son’s bottom.

 

“Wrap your arms and legs around me Noah.”

 

Noah complied, moving in slow motion, and resting his head against his father’s shoulder. John could feel his son’s stiff cock pressing against his stomach. He carried his son out of the workshop then upstairs to the boy’s room. Noah breathed slowly and deeply.

 

John laid the boy on his bed on his back. He noted that the boy’s gaping hole was red and inflamed.

 

“Are you going to be okay here while I go get a wash cloth?”

 

Noah looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes as though struggling to stay awake.

 

“No more orgasm. Turn it off.”

 

John frowned.

 

“It IS off Noah. You’re in your bed.”

 

“No more orgasm. Can’t stop. Don’t want to squirt anymore.”

 

His cock twitched again several times.

 

“Noah are you still cum… Are you still having an orgasm?”

 

“Yes. No more. Turn it off. Please.”

 

“I’ll be back in a few moments Noah.”

 

John left the room and returned a minute later carrying a mixing bowl of cold water, a wash cloth, a tube of antiseptic salve, and a glass of water for Noah to drink. He lifted his son’s head and proffered the water.

 

“Here you go son. Drink this water. You must be thirsty.”

 

Noah slurped at the water, gulping it down as quickly as his father would allow him.

 

“I’ll get more in a minute,” John said.

 

He lifted the boy’s legs and smeared salve on the boy’s hole. Eleven hours of pounding was more than anyone’s asshole could bear. He wondered how long it would take his son’s bruised rectum to recover.

 

John felt incredibly remorseful. He knew how intense the machine was on full power. He had not even managed five minutes before he had to turn it off. Punishing his son with fifteen minutes would have been spiteful in the extreme, but to fall asleep and leave him for nine hours was totally unforgivable.

 

John picked up the wash cloth and dampened it in the bowl of water before tenderly washing his son’s face. Noah’s lips were slimed wet with drool, and snail trails ran down the kid’s chin.

 

John rinsed the cloth and looked at his son’s groin, the kid’s stumpy fat cock was still twitching and bouncing and now he looked closer, John could see small pulsations in the kid’s nuts almost like a facial tic.

 

“Noah are you still having orgasms?”

 

“Yes,” the boy answered in a small helpless voice. “Make them stop pleeeease.”

 

John drenched the wash cloth in cold water then gripped the boy’s scrotum with his cloth-covered hand. His son inhaled in a series of shuddering breaths. John held his son’s testicles for a minute until the cloth started to lose its chill. Then he wrapped his cloth covered fist around his son’s hard cock and wiped its short length a few times.

 

The man reloaded the cloth with more cool water and repeated the operation, using the water to cool his son’s balls. On the third wash cloth reload, Noah’s bone finally started to wilt, much to John’s considerable relief. He had no desire to take the boy to the emergency room and have to explain what had happened to him.

 

“Have they stopped Noah?”

 

“Unhhhhhhhhhh,” boy acknowledged sleepily. Then before he fell into a deep slumber he added, “I don’t ever want an orgasm again.”

 

John tucked the boy into his bed and hoped that Noah would one day change his mind.