Anton – Phone call part 2

Forced milking

A young man continues touching things he shouldn’t.

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Anton – Phone call part 2

Read part 1 here

“Hello Donald. Have you had a good morning?”

“Ahh, hello Margaret my dear. Yes, a most pleasant morning thank you. How was your shift?”

The man who answered her was in his late 60s; tall, distinguished-looking, silver-haired, with a polished New England accent.

“Not so bad. We had a poor old man who had been sleeping on the streets. Bad infection in his foot.”

“That’s a real shame. I suppose he’s fortunate that he was brought to your hospital. At least he’ll receive excellent care.”

“Yes, that’s true. Hey Donald, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Anton have you? I’ve barely seen him in the past three days.”

“Oh, you know what teenagers are like. Always up to something. But yes, my dear, I have seen him. He’s helping me in my lab.”

“Your lab?” She raised her eyebrows. “But I thought you told him never to enter your lab? You told me you don’t want him messing around with your delicate equipment?”

Donald gave the woman a tight smile.

“Well my dear, I made an exception this time. Would you like to come speak to him?”

“If he’s working for you, I can leave him to it. How much longer do you think he’ll be?”

“Hmmm, at least another four hours I think. Shall I send him to you when he’s finished?”

She smiled.

“Yes, that would be great thanks Donald.”

She gave him a peck on the cheek and he accepted it like a kindly uncle.

 

Two hours later

Donald sat in the garden sipping tea. Margaret approached.

“Hey Donald, I was hoping that I could take Anton into town for late lunch Will he be finished soon? You’re welcome to join us.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you. He’s been working very hard and I was hoping he might do two more hours yet. I doubt he’ll be in the mood for food when he’s done though. Shall we go find him?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. And if you can bear to part with him early…”

“I’d rather not, but let’s go see how he’s doing. All will become clear.”

 

Margaret followed Donald to the house and from there to his laboratory. He opened the door and beckoned her in. In the middle of the room was the masturbation table that she knew Donald had invented, and to the right was another large masturbation device. Margaret looked around for her son, and at first, she missed him.

“Is he in the other room?” she asked, pointing to the adjoining laboratory.

Donald smiled.

“No, no, he’s over here.”

He gestured to her left, and there, where her eyes had skated over what she thought on first glance was just a pile of machinery attached to the wall, stood her son.

 

Anton stood against the wall. He was in an alcove, surrounded by machinery and wires and pipes. His arms and legs were secured against the wall by restraints at multiple points that ensured he could not move so much as a millimetre. The restraints looked like a futuristic type of armour, and it was these restraints that had hid him from his mother’s view.

A stainless-steel mask was over his mouth. It looked like a scuba divers’ mouth piece and two small stainless-steel pipes passed up his nostrils. A restraint was fixed to the wall holding his head in place.

Moving only his eyes, Anton looked in his mother’s general direction. His eyelids fluttered and his expression was sleeping-looking but flushed as though he’d just finished running.

 

“What on earth is all that stuff wrapped around him?” she asked.

Then she made two realisations that answered her question: the first was the fact that her son was naked behind the restraints. The second was the fact that the piston that she had momentarily assumed was powering some internal engine, was positioned over his groin, and it was clearly moving backwards and forwards along his penis.

Her son’s flat stomach quivered and trembled, impelled by some unknown force. Then she noticed that the boy’s scrotum was stretched down and his testicles were sitting on a small half cup lined with vibrating pieces of rubber. Margaret’s mouth gaped.

“That had better not be what I think it is Donald. You’d better not be using my son to test out your sex machines!”

She was uncharacteristically loud and aggressive.

“No, my dear, I’m not using him to test this machine. I already know that it works extremely well in fact. Think of this as more an answer to his curiosity and teenage horniness.”

“What the hell do you mean by that?! You already told Anton never to come anywhere near your lab.”

“Indeed, I did Margaret, so you can imagine my disappointment over the past few months when I repeatedly discovered things moved around, manuals opened, buttons pressed.”

“Maybe it was Williams?”

She was referring to Donald’s driver and personal manservant.

“Williams is actually prohibited from coming in here, just as Anton is, and to my knowledge, that is a prohibition he has always complied with. Especially as his future employment depends upon it. Nevertheless, I was willing to entertain the possibility. That was until about six months ago. You were working a night shift, and I had that meeting in the city do you remember? Anton was alone in the house for the evening.”

She frowned.

“Can we please take this crap off my son before we continue? He’s a teenager; unlike most of your clients, I’m certain he needs no help masturbating.”

Deep red coloured Anton’s cheeks.

“If that’s what you want my dear, but I’m hoping that when you hear me out, you’ll decide that his current, ah, situation, is justified and you’ll even allow me to complete the 8-hour cycle he’s scheduled for.”

“8 hours being jacked off?  It’ll wear his dick down to a bloody stump!”

“Actually no. The machine is extremely well lubricated and this internal camera shows that his penis is just fine.”

He slid his finger across a virtual button on the wall-mounted monitor. The screen showed an internal view of the piston looking down onto Anton’s glans. Margaret was surprised that it was smaller than she might have imagined. Not that she had ever thought about the size of her teenaged son’s engorged glans.

The flesh was purple, and thickly coated in lubricant. A latex ring slid up and down, masturbating the side of his glans. There was a slender transparent pipe inserted into the urethra. It was filled with white.

“Is he ejaculating?” she asked.

“Yes, most assuredly my dear.”

Anton moaned into the mouthpiece. His chest rose in shuddering gasps and his flat belly expanded and contracted.

“Okay, make it quick because from where I’m standing, you’re sexually assaulting my son.”

He smiled.

“Yes, I could see how it would look like that but I assure you, this is what he wanted.”

 

It was all Anton could do to think, and now his mother was standing in front of him looking at his naked body: his boner. His dick was straining, and he could feel himself cumming and cumming. It was the last thing he wanted. The thought of her seeing him like this.

He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Just six months ago he’d discovered that you could become TOO turned on; too horny, when he’d gotten stuck inside Donald’s damned masturbation table for almost eight hours, and it had driven him crazy, jacking him off until he almost lost his mind.

Donald had been understandably furious at Anton for messing with his research. In fact, the man had even left him clamped into the machine for longer whilst it forced his nuts to give up so much jizz that they had permanently shrunk. The man had seemed to derive a kind of perverse amusement at Anton’s predicament: his complete inability to stop himself from experiencing an endless orgasm.

Donald had warned him that his testicles would be permanently smaller, but he’d said nothing about the fact that his penis would also be smaller too. Flaccid it was barely two inches long now and that included his foreskin! He thought it was pathetic for a teen of his age. And hard… well he hadn’t been able to GET hard since that night. He didn’t even get horny for the first two months, but after that he felt nothing BUT horny. Constant horniness. But his dick just wouldn’t stand up for him, no matter what porn he looked at.

Donald had told him that having his asshole reamed for all those hours might give him a taste for anal intercourse, but it was something Anton absolutely REFUSED to accept. He was fucking STRAIGHT! But his hole wouldn’t forget the sensation no matter how hard he tried.

 

For the next three months, Anton tried tugging at his shrivelled maggot, desperately hoping to coax it into life so that he could empty his nuts. They were only the size of kidney beans now. It wouldn’t take much, and he felt like he was horny for most of every single day. Just a glimpse of female flesh, was enough to set his thoughts running, imagining all the things he’d like to do. He could feel the excitement in his stomach, even the churning in his reduced balls, and sometimes, unsettlingly to him, Anton could even feel his sphincter contracting and relaxing, as though eager for another dildo. But his body’s excitement just refused to transfer to his dick. He tugged it and rubbed it and diddled it and rolled between his fingers it but it stayed resolutely limp, as useless for relieving his constant horniness as a cooked noodle.

 

And so, the idea slowly dawned on him. He would use Donald’s machine again. This time under his control. He’d read the manual, make sure his phone was fully charged, make sure he had spare batteries for the remote. Make sure he could pull the power in an emergency. Make sure absolutely nothing could go wrong. He was going to use it to relieve an itch. A desperately insistent need, and nothing more.

Of course, he could have asked Donald for help. The man WAS doctor; a urologist in fact, and he had invented the machines. But Anton couldn’t bear to let Donald see him naked again; see him horny. Especially now that his junk was so pathetic. His small nuts hung low in his sack, like two tiny marble-sized Christmas decorations. So, he waited till Donald went into town and he had the place to himself, then sneaked back into his lab to start doing research of his own. Except he got caught on his very first visit…

 

 

“To continue,” Donald said to Margaret, “on that night when you were away, I received a phone call in the middle of my meeting. It was Anton begging me to come home. He’d decided to try out one of my machines. This one in fact,” he said tapping the masturbation table with the end of his cane. “And he’d become trapped inside it. There was no harm of course, but he was two hours into the cycle, and after at least 20 orgasms, he’d had more than he could bear and decided to interrupt my meeting to ask for help. You were at work and he didn’t want to call you or the police for obvious reasons. I came home in due course, and then I left him in the machine for another hour in the hope that it would teach him a lesson.”

“Was it hurting him?”

“Oh no, quite the opposite. He was experiencing constant orgasms by that stage. Many subjects find the sensation overwhelming, but it’s certainly not harmful. I was irritated at him having disturbed my meeting, to say nothing of his having breached my trust. Anyway, I eventually released him and I had hoped that he had learned his lesson.”

“So why is he in there right now?” Margaret asked, looking at the pump driving in and out on her son’s penis.

“Obviously, the lesson was not sufficiently well learned. Just after I left for town, I checked up on my laboratory this morning using my phone app, and what should I see, but Anton sniffing around, examining the masturbation table again, as well as the machine he is currently enjoying. I came home immediately and confronted him.”

“So why is he standing in it now?”

“I um, persuaded him that if he was so determined to invade my privacy and examine my work, that he should try it out for himself.”

“Persuaded?”

“Well, I may have intimated that you or his friends might come into possession of videos of his last session.”

“You have videos?”

“No, but I intimated that I did,” Donald lied.

In fact, videos and biometric recordings of such an epic milking session were far too valuable to simply discard, and they would inform Donald’s research for the remainder of his life but he would never be so crude as to release them to other viewers.

 

 

“Are you having a good time?” Donald asked.

Anton whirled around in surprise, trying to quickly hide the loose-leaf manual for the masturbation table that Donald had printed. He fumbled and it dropped to the floor, pages coming apart from the binder.

“Oh, uh Donald, I was just…”

“You were just invading my privacy again. I’d have thought after last time you’d have known better.”

“No, it’s not that. I was just curious.”

“You’re a bad liar son. You’re not curious; you’re horny, and you thought that you’d have another crack at figuring out my table isn’t that right?”

“No. Err, well yes. Not exactly.”

His expression showed distress.

“It’s not as simple as that.”

Donald frowned.

“Articulate as ever. So why are you here then? Come on, out with it.”

“I, um, I AM interested in your machine but only… only because I can’t, you know, do it on my own anymore. Jizz that is.”

Anton blushed as he revealed his secret.

“So you thought you’d come back to the place where your troubles began huh?”

Anton shrugged.

“Kind of, I guess. I’m been, you know, horny. REALLY horny. But I can’t. My dick won’t get hard.”

Donald considered the information for a few seconds.

“My machines are designed for exactly such a situation.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Donald pondered a little longer thus brusquely he said, “Well come on then, get your clothes off. If you’re so desperate to keep intruding in my lab, you might as well do what you came for.”

“What? I didn’t mean right now.”

“Your mother’s at work for at least four hours yet. No time like the present.”

“No Donald. Sorry, but I’d rather not.”

“Are you shy about me seeing you naked again?”

Anton nodded shyly.

“Well would you rather me see you naked, or your mother and friends?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, a note of panic in his voice.

“I have videos from the first time. It would be a shame if they found their way to your friends. Or onto the internet.”

“You wouldn’t…”

“And you wouldn’t repeatedly invade my privacy and enter my lab when I’m not here. You assured me as much right?”

Anton stared at Donald. He considered apologising, but he knew it was sound hollow. There was no sign of forgiveness or mercy in Donald’s expression, just deadpan resolution. The teenager reluctantly started undressing, stripping all of his clothes off except his underwear. He was wearing briefs.

“You’ve changed your underwear,” Donald observed.

Anton wore cotton boxers on their previous encounter.

“Yeah, they’re more comfortable since…”

“Ahh. Balls hanging a little lower now?”

Anton nodded again.

“I warned you they would be different. Well,” Donald said, “pants off. No point delaying it.”

Anton looked at Donald’s face one last time to see if there was any chance of changing his mind. Donald returned his look with an impassive stare of his own, then he raised his eyebrows as if to say “Well?”. Anton turned away and dropped his pants, allowing them to puddle on the floor. Then he turned back, his hands covering his privates. Donald smiled gently at the teenager’s modesty.

“Over here,” he gestured to the boy.

Anton frowned.

“Not this one?”

“No, this is a new one. It’s better.”

“Better how?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. It’s more effective.”

Donald indicated the person-shaped cavity in the machine.

“Step in facing outwards.”

Anton did as he was told but kept his hands over his groin.

Adopting a clinical tone, Donald said, “Place your arms your hands into the indentations please.”

Anton sighed deeply and moved his arms into the arm imprints on the wall. Donald looked down at the teen’s shrivelled cock and droopy balls.

“Your penis reduced in size as well?” he said in a neutral tone, careful in his use of language lest he make the boy self-conscious about what might be a naturally undersized penis.

“Yes. A lot,” he said, remembering when it was twice the size.

 

Donald pressed a few buttons and the machine closed around the teen’s body drawing him in tighter and locking him in place. He quickly pulled the boy’s testicles low, securing them in place with a metal ring before lifting the cup full of stimulators up underneath them.

Anton felt the cheeks of his bottom being pulled apart exposing his hole. A dildo slid up into his asshole and a few moments later he felt a stirring in his penis that he had not experienced in 6 months. Donald looked at the growing erection and smiled wanly.

“Your penis seems to be working just fine now.”

Anton didn’t know whether to be happy or humiliated, but he blushed anyway.

Donald inserted the collection pipe into the boy’s urethra then slid the piston pump over the teenager’s short erection.

 

“Mouth open,” Donald said, lifting the mouthpiece.

“Donald,” Anton said. “You won’t leave me in it for hours like last time will you? Please,” he begged.

“Mouth OPEN,” Donald repeated.

Anton reluctantly complied and Donald inserted the mouth and nosepieces preventing the teen from further speech. Aphrodisiac gas immediately started to replace the air that Anton had been breathing.

Donald clamped the boy’s head in place then switched the machine on and Anton was instantly overwhelmed with lust. He gasped in shock at how much more intense this machine’s effects were. His inner thighs immediately started trembling.

“I’ll leave you in as long I deem it necessary in order to teach you not to keep entering my lab.” Donald said calmly.

He turned and walked from his lab towards the house where he planned to catch up on some reading.

 

 

Margaret smiled humourlessly, then turned and stood in front of her son. The dome-headed piston that encased his penis continued to pump silently but relentlessly in and out.

She looked Anton in the eyes.

“Is this true Anton? Have you been messing with Donald’s machines?”

He had trouble maintaining eye contact as he continued to orgasm but he made the tiniest head movement. A nod. She shook her head.

“Donald takes us in and gives us a home and you betray his trust by messing with his stuff?”

 

She turned back to Donald.

“You already left in him in one of these machines before. What makes you think forcing him to stay in this one will stop him nosing around?”

“Well this machine is CONSIDERABLY more powerful. If 8 hours in this doesn’t convince him to mind his own business, I honestly don’t know what will and I hate to have to go to the expense of installing expensive locks in my own home.”

Margaret nodded, then turned her attention back to her son his face was burning red. His eyes rolled in his head momentarily.

“You’re sure he’s alright? What exactly is it doing to him?”

“I’m quite certain he’s alright. It’s masturbating him. Extremely skilfully. Irresistibly in fact. Even as we speak, he’s experiencing an orgasm.”

“Right now?”

She looked at his face and his colour darkened from red to dark crimson. Humiliated before his mother.

“Yes, in fact, he’s been experiencing a continuous orgasm for…”

He looked at a display panel. It read 374:32. He did the mental arithmetic.

She followed his eyes to the readout.

“6 hours and 14 minutes. Give or take a few minutes.”

“One continuous orgasm. Won’t that mess with his brain?”

Margaret was coming around to the idea that her son deserved what was happening to him.

“In the short term yes, you can see that he’s having tremendous trouble concentrating on anything except his genitals. I’m told by my other subjects that they quickly lose the ability to think about anything else. But there are no effects that will last beyond a day or so. He’ll be physically exhausted of course, and his testicles will be drained dry for many, many months to come, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll keep his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Maybe losing the ability to jerk off for a few months is just the thing he needs.”

She looked down at the front of the machine.

“What’s it doing to his balls?” she asked, looking at her son’s undersized testicles.

“That cup is vibrating and the nodules are massaging him. It’s also lined with very low-voltage contacts. It’s stimulating his testicles. I can assure you it feels extremely good.”

“They look awfully small for his age. This machine didn’t do that to them did it?”

Anton’s blush deepened again as his mother discussed his genitals.

“Oh no my dear, this machine had nothing to do with it. He’s simply on the small size for his age.”

He didn’t feel it necessary to mention that Anton’s testicles had in fact been shrunken to bean size from his last marathon session in one of his machines. After all it was the teenager’s fault that they were now that size.

“In fact,” he continued explaining, “his entire groin is awash with such immense pleasure that it’s robbing him of the ability to think rationally.”

“And it’s not going to wreck his penis or anything?”

“Most assuredly not my dear lady. Do you think I would deliberately harm my patients, much less your son? I’m merely attempting to cure him of a predilection for snooping. What is it they say? ‘Curiosity killed the cat’”

“So why is he panting and his stomach trembling like that? It looks like he’s having trouble breathing.”

“I’m sure that you’ve had orgasms that curled your toes and made you pant Margaret? I hope you have.”

She nodded with a small smile at the memory.

“It has been known to happen.”

“Now times that by fifty, and imagine it just doesn’t stop. That’s precisely how Anton is feeling now. I imagine he’s only just aware that we are in the room with him.”

“I don’t know Donald. This seems awfully… kinky.”

“I will happily remove him right this moment if that is your wish my dear, but I honestly believe that this is a lesson he needs to learn. It seemed like an apposite solution to his incessant hormonally-inspired exploration, but if you are unhappy with my decision… I realise that in ideal circumstances I should have consulted you first, but it was a spur-of-the moment decision as he we were both in the lab at the time. I do hope that you’ll forgive my presumption. He’ll be no worse the wear in a couple of days, but the memory of an eight-hour orgasm that he simply could not prevent will hopefully deter him from future… inquisitiveness.”

Margaret thought deeply. She trusted Donald’s good intentions.

She put her hands on her hips as she turned to Anton, then shook her head.

“See what your disobedience has cost you? I told you to always do whatever Donald asked you and to obey his rules. We would have been living in that shitty two room apartment if it wasn’t for him. And you repay his kindness by messing with his stuff?”

The piston continued silently pumping Anton’s penis and his eyes rolled. Margaret noticed a glass tube secured down between his knees. It was a test tube the diameter of a deodorant can. It was filled to a height of 4 inches with creamy fluid and more was slowly dribbling in from a clear pipe at the top.

“Is that his…”

“Semen? Yes,” Donald said interrupting and finishing her sentence.

“That’s a lot.”

“The gas in the mouthpiece forces his body to make it at a massively increased rate.”

“You’ve really thought of everything.”

He didn’t feel it necessary to inform her about the dildo that was pumping in and out of her son’s hole.

“It was designed for impotent men, but it works even better on overly horny teenagers.”

“I can see that.”

Margaret looked at her son’s face. He struggled to focus on her eyes in the midst of a nut-clenching orgasm that went on and on.

“Maybe now you’ll listen when Donald tells you to keep away from his stuff.”

“I can’t believe I’m standing her while my teenaged son is being masturbated in front of me, and even more I can’t believe that I’m going to leave him here in your machine, but damned if I don’t agree with you Donald. Hopefully a full 8 hours will finally cure him of his snooping before it gets him into more serious trouble. And if not that, maybe it’ll at least take the edge of his horniness for a few months.”

“A lot longer than that I suspect,” Donald thought to himself.

She shook her head and walked towards the door.

“Be sure to send him to me when you’re done Donald.”

He smiled.

“I most assuredly will dear lady.”

 

Anton continued to stand, held completely immobile. He felt the soft rubber sleeve, sliding up and down, brushing the sides of his hyper-sensitive glans, sending little jolts from the nerve endings down to his balls, but he could not pull his penis out of it. He felt the dildo as it pumped with mechanical regularity, deep inside him, then all the way out, before driving back in, spreading his sphincter anew, but he could not lift himself off it or clench against it. He felt his balls vibrate and hum as the current stimulated them all the way to their cores, but he could not tug them from the bowl they were pressed into by a warm metal ring that completed the circuit. Every part of his body from his waist to his thighs felt as though he was horny. Every part of him felt as though it was being forced into orgasm. He continued trembling and panting, and his entire body was flooded with pleasure. His thoughts drifted in a fuzzy haze of relentless euphoria.

He forced himself to concentrate as he watched his mother leave. She was his only hope to end this unbearable pleasure. He let out a small, desperate whimper into the mouthpiece. A tiny plea for her to bring his orgasm to an end. But she heard nothing.