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Milking college – An Interdimensional milking prequel – Part 2

forced milking

The unconscious students are taken to the processing room and prepared.

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Milking college – An Interdimensional milking prequel – Part 2

The Gliese-1 harvesting plants were the Human Expansion Program’s first off-world attempt at the mass semen collection program that would enable the accelerated colonisation of the Galaxy before the great expansion made it impossible to reach the farthest worlds. Collecting semen was too expensive if collected from part-time volunteers, but by gathering orphans from across the sector in a single place, millions of litres could be harvested efficiently and for free. Better yet, thanks to the testicular growth program, each young man could provide thousands of times more semen than unmodified males.

Early experiments on Earth had been conducted using virtual reality to keep the subjects aroused, but the yield from a normal adult man’s testicles was just insufficient for the expense. The program realised it was far more efficient to simply enhance the size of a subjects’ testicles, then take the semen by force, extracting it for far longer than any willing subject would be willing to endure.

It came as no surprise to anyone, that teenagers, who were already constantly horny, made the best subjects…

 

 

Technicians carried the unconscious students from the viewing room on gurneys. The young men would be out for at least two hours; more than enough time to prep them for their new lives. The staff wheeled the boys into the processing room where more technicians stripped the young men’s clothes. They would not need them again for a very long time.

Carter’s naked body was laid flat on the gurney, his arms by his sides. There were gynaecological leg supports resting side by side at the bottom. A middle-aged female technician in a white lab coat and a bun haircut lifted each of Carter’s thighs onto the padded supports, with his legs resting just below each knee, then she wound a handle that raised his legs and spread them wide apart, exposing his bottom and genitals. She stepped into the space between his legs and looked dispassionately down at the unconscious boy’s soft genitals; a modest pair of nuts in soft bag and a stumpy, uncircumcised cock nestled in dark hair.

“He probably doesn’t go out of his way to be seen naked,” she said with a cold smirk.

Even in the 24th century, males were sensitive about the size of their penises. But there was nothing the boy could do to protect his modesty now. Lying unconscious with his knees pulled apart, he was granted no more dignity than a cat at the vets about to be neutered.

 

She pulled a hose from above and sprayed the boy’s groin and belly with a clear liquid. Within seconds his hair completely and permanently dissolved. Then she lifted his arms and sprayed his pits.

“Why do you always do their pits Marina. It’s not procedure,” her male assistant asked.

“If they’re going to look like pre-pubescents, we might as well make it complete.”

She gave her colleague a humourless smile as she looked down at Carter’s now-smooth groin. The man got the distinct impression that she didn’t like young males very much.

 

The woman tugged Carter’s testicles as low as they would go within his scrotum, then closed a soft-lined object that looked like a clam shell around them.

“Measure please,” she said to her assistant.

The man made some gestures near the computer and the lining of the clam shell gently flowed around the boy’s testicles, measuring their volume.

“Right 14ml, left 17.”

 

Carter’s flaccid three-inch circumcised penis flopped languidly back onto his belly, but his flaccid size was of no interest to the technicians.

The woman inserted a small probe into the unconscious teenager’s rectum, then she looked down at the remote in her hand. It had a dial and a meter that showed the current in volts. She dialled it slowly to 5 volts and the teenager’s penis stiffened on his belly, rising away from it as he got harder.

Her colleague lifted Carter’s erect penis in his polythene-gloved hand and scanned it using a hand-held point-cloud scanner. He checked the results on the adjacent monitor to ensure a good scan. The computer interpolated the results then issued some measurements.

“4.9 inches long, and 2.4 in girth. Quite slim but not far below average in length,” he commented to his colleague.

“Indeed. Right, let’s get a semen sample to establish his baseline volume.”

 

All around Carter, the other students in his group were also being shaved, measured and scanned.

There was noise a few gurneys over. One of the technicians spoke up so that the others could hear.

“Citizens, I think we have a winner. Weelyum is 9.8 inches.”

He lifted the erect penis of the boy on his gurney so that it protruded from its owner’s belly at 90 degrees. It was slim, but its length was undeniably impressive. Its foreskin was retracted just behind the glans, but it was extremely tight, and gave the impression that it was trying to throttle the head, making it look like a small cerise-coloured tomato perched on top.

“Anyone got that beat?” the man asked.

The others shook their heads.

“That’s the third time you’ve won the pool Zane. Give the rest of us a chance. I could do with an extra 100 tokens,” one man said.

Zane grinned.

“Hey what can I say, I don’t get to choose them, but this boy was definitely a grower not a shower. Only 4.5 soft.”

“I think you’ve got access to secret information,” another technician joked.

“You’re right, I get them all to send me deepix on their holos, then I bribe the boss to give me the biggest!”

He gave the boy’s enormous, stiff pole a shake to emphasise his victory and several of the other techs laughed at the joke.

Meanwhile, Weelyum slumbered, unaware that his almost 10-inch erection was the subject of scrutiny and entertainment.

 

The male technician next to Carter slid a large test tube over the boy’s penis then his female colleague twisted the stimulator dial sharply. The voltage jumped from 5 to 13 and Carter’s entire body arched off the gurney as though he was experiencing a seizure. At the same time, he ejaculated hard, his semen splattering against the far end of the tube repeatedly. The woman repeatedly twisted the dial back and forth, alternating between 5 and 13 volts, and the unit delivered a series of pulses to Carter’s prostate, as the boy’s cock spat its cream into the test tube in a series of spurts. She looked down at his contorting body with bland-faced disinterest.

“Have you ever tried one of these ejaculators Arno?” she asked.

“Heck no, why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Just to know what it feels like. A few of the other techs have,” she added conspiratorially. “It’s amusing how a male’s penis can be made to stand up on command, and forced to give up its semen at the twist of a dial.”

“I suppose so. I never really thought about it. I just do my job.”

Truth be told, Arno didn’t much like working with her. He could imagine that she would enjoy doing this and more to the boys in a basement alone.

 

Carter’s penis stopped spurting, transitioning to a dribble, and then nothing as his testicles had no more to give. The woman turned the ejaculator off and the teenager slumped back to the gurney. Arno removed the test tube, using the edge of the smooth glass cylinder to wipe the residual dribbles from the underside of the youngster’s glans. Then he dried the boy’s glans with a small wipe. He lifted the test tube to view its contents, and gave it a shake to settle the gloopy contents.

“6ml. I think we have another bull. His balls aren’t all that big yet, but you can just never tell.”

“Yes,” his female colleague agreed. “Either that or he hasn’t masturbated in a while.”

Pondering, they both looked down at the unconscious boy’s genitals.

 

Marina removed the electro-ejaculator from Carter’s rectum and Arno stoppered the test tube and labelled it so that its contents could be analysed and the stats added to Carter’s record. Marina lifted a metal patch the size of a circular Elastoplast out of a clear plastic box. She peeled a backing strip from the patch, and underneath were dozens of tiny wire filaments, each half an inch long. They looked like the tendrils of a jelly fish. She carefully placed the pad on Carter’s left testicle, holding it in place.

“Activate please.”

Arno pulled an armature down from the ceiling, on the end of which was a rocket-shaped plastic head. The unit on the end fired an electromagnetic beam at the patch. Instantly, nanobots in the patch activated, and began fusing the patch to Carter’s scrotum, whilst the tiny wires burrowed through the skin and into his testicle, interfacing with the nerves that served its core.

After 30 seconds, Arno removed the armature and the woman pulled gently at the edges of the patch to ensure that it had fused properly.

She said, “Confirm interface please.”

Arno held a portable ultrasound scanner above the boy’s scrotum and they both looked at the magnified scan on the computer screen. They could clearly see the orgasm inhibitor patch tendrils spread throughout the boy’s testicle.

She repeated the procedure, adding a second patch to Carter’s right testicle. As long as the patches remained in place and activated, it would be literally impossible for the boy to achieve orgasm.

“Ironic; probably the best orgasm he’s ever had, and the last for 6 months and he wasn’t even conscious to enjoy it,” Arno said.

“Yes,” Marina said with a smirk. “That IS funny.”

“Bitch,” Arno thought to himself.

 

Without the ejaculator inside his rectum, Carter’s post-orgasm erection quickly wilted and disappeared. The woman picked it up.

“Okay, let’s give him a trim.”

Arno handed her a piece of equipment; a stainless-steel dome with a small raised bead around its lower edge. She brought it to Carter’s glans.

“Hmmm, two steps down and one thinner.”

She handed it back to her assistant and he swapped out the dome for a smaller one and returned it to her. She placed it over the head of Carter’s glans. His moist foreskin was still retracted from his orgasm. She worked his foreskin over the dome until a pucker of skin was past the top of the dome, then she gripped the puckered skin and tugged it, pulling the boy’s foreskin as far down the dome as it would go.

She said, “Remove.”

Arno brought a small device to the boy’s groin. It looked like some sort of clamp. He opened the curved jaws, scissor-style, then closed them around the dome, sliding them down until they hit the beading at the bottom. He pressed a button in the handle and a white light emitted from the jaws, passing around the boy’s foreskin, which was stretched tightly over the dome. The skin fell away cleanly, leaving no wound or scarring.

The woman tossed the foreskin into a metal bowl.

“I wonder what they dislike the most,” Arno mused, “Having their penises mutilated, or their testicles turned into soccer balls?”

“Who cares what they think. They’re only spunk monkeys.”


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