Pumpkin patch – part 1

forced milking, kidnapping

A young trick or treater is turned into a human spunk factory.

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Pumpkin patch – part 2

Steven’s eyes fluttered open and he awoke to another day of captivity. He’d long since given up hoping for rescue, and there was no possibility of escape.

He slept at a 45-degree angle, reclining against a huge padded chair. He looked down at his body with effort. He was naked from head to toe. His body bulged and spread beneath him like an enormous splatter of human flesh dropped from a high place. He weighed 1500 pounds – over 680 kilograms.

Although he had been normal-sized, healthy, and strong when he was captured, he’d long since passed the point where he could even move on his own.

He looked down past the enormous stomach to his lower body. His legs were spread wide, twisted outwards at the hips so that they rested on the sides of his knees. They were too heavy for him to move, and his captors preferred them apart like this so that they could access his genitals more easily. They were slightly bent at the knee, but were far too fat to bend more than 20 degrees any more. His arms stuck out to the sides, no more capable of movement than his legs. He felt like a giant starfish.

His hairless scrotum was the size of a beanbag chair, and within, his testicles were each larger than basketballs, although they no longer had the oval shape they formerly had when they were normal-sized. Now, like the rest of his body, they spread under their own weight like two semi-deflated beachballs.

Like most teenagers, before he was captured, Steven had wanted an above-average-sized penis that would draw admiration from anyone who glanced at it, but what he had now, was freakish. Even flaccid, it was as thick as a body-builder’s upper arm, and almost two feet long. It curled over his enormous testicles like a sleeping anaconda.

Steven could not tell what time it was, although he could see daylight through a small skylight. Soon they would be along to milk him and commence the daily routines that would make his genitals even larger.

He never felt hungry any more, but he did feel horny. Endlessly, constantly, unbearably horny. Although he would sooner be anywhere but where he currently was, Steven looked forwards desperately to the milking…



Steven’s nightmare began two years ago on October 31st.

“Trick or treat!” he said to the friendly-looking woman who opened the Halloween-decorated door.

She reached for her treat bowl.

“Gosh you’re a tall young man,” she said, looking at the slender teen, “How old are you?”

Steven was wearing a zentai suit – a full body lycra leotard that even covered his head and face. He grinned sheepishly and she could discern his expression through the thin material.

“I’m 15 ma’am. My little brother broke his leg so I promised I’d trick or treat for him.”

The woman smiled.

“Awww, poor little guy. Well, that’s very kind of you. Here, take an extra for yourself.”

She held the candy bowl out to him. It contained high quality confectionary. Steven reached out and took a Twix for his brother and a Snickers for himself. As he made his selection, the woman looked down at the front of his stretchy body suit. It was pumpkin orange, and at the front, his penis pointed towards his chin. He’d considered it the least obvious way to avoid an odd-shaped bulge when he dressed but his meat was clearly visible, and the woman could even see that he was uncircumcised. His penis was a flaccid four inches; not overly long, but very wide despite its softness. It pressed against his lower belly. At the base, his testicles made two obvious lumps on either side of the root.

As he looked up from the bowl to thank her, her caught her staring.

“You fill that suit nicely,” she said.

“Um, thank you ma’am,” Steven mumbled, looking down at himself.

He was horrified to see that cheap lycra was semi-transparent, and his dark pubes and pale cock were plain to see. Even the wrinkled sack supporting his nuts showed. When he dressed, he’d decided not to wear underwear because it made a clear material line. It had never occurred to him just how transparent the suit would become in the damp autumn air.

“It was very brave of you not to wear underwear,” she added, with a sweet smile.

“Did you know that the suit was transparent? I bet you did you little rebel you.”

“Umm, no ma’am,” Steven said, shuffling awkwardly in a subconscious effort to shield his genitals. He lowered the candy bag in front of his groin.

“I can’t be certain, what with that orange hood, but are you blushing young man?”

Steven was indeed blushing, furiously.

“I… I… I gotta go now ma’am,” he blustered. “Thanks for the candy.”

He turned and walked hurriedly up the drive without glancing backwards. Then he felt something sharp hitting his right bottom cheek. He flinched and reached back. There was something sticking in his…

He hit the floor before he finished the thought.




When Steven regained consciousness he found himself sitting in a gynaecology chair that stood, throne-like in the middle of a large cubical. He was naked, with his legs together. There was a pain in his left shoulder and when he turned to see what was causing it, he saw a clear pipe emerging from his upper chest just below his collar bone. A liquid was slowly feeding into him.

He felt a tight knot of dread instantly form in his stomach. He knew there was no positive scenario in which he could find himself naked in a strange building strapped to a chair with drugs pumping into his body.

Steven looked around, and saw his pumpkin-orange zentai suit hanging on a peg on the wall. The cubical was otherwise barren of furniture although did see several .

He was strapped to the chair at the wrists, elbows, knees, ankles and waist. He tested the straps. They were tight and secure. He spent the next five minutes trying to escape, first by slipping his arms and legs out of the straps, then when that failed, trying brute strength to wrench the straps away from the chair. When that proved no more successful, he tried to twist and contort his hands in a vain effort to undo the buckles on his wrists.

The teenager looked around the cubical again, arching to see behind him, but he learned nothing more from a more thorough examination of his surroundings. Three walls, a missing wall in front of him, revealing a cinder block wall across a wide walk way, a row of skylight windows in a high corrugated steel roof that implied that he was in some kind of warehouse.

He struggled fruitlessly for a few more minutes, then in desperation, he started to shout for help, bellowing until his throat was hoarse. He heard mumbling voices to either side of his cubical, but they only intensified his sense of disquiet.

A man entered the cubical and glanced at him.

“Ah, you’re awake. Good. I’ll thank you not to shout like that anymore. We’re 50 miles from a town, and the only other people within earshot are the other guests and my uh… staff, and some of them have sensitive ears. If you shout again, I’ll have you muzzled like a dog.”

There was something about the way the man hesitated before the word “staff” that made Steven even more uneasy than he already was.

“Who are you? What’s this thing in my shoulder? Why am I here?” he asked.

“Who I am is none of your concern. You can call me “Sir.” That pipe in your chest is a nutrient solution that will more than meet your dietary needs. It feeds you 20,000 calories a day – ten times your requirement. As for why you are here, you have been brought so that we can harvest your juice.”

“M… my juice?”

The man slapped him hard in the testicles and Steven yelped like a kicked puppy.



The man slapped him again, using the cupped body of his hand. Steven yelped. His nuts were in great pain now.

“Stop, please stop! I don’t…”

Whack! Another hard hit. A small, watery streamer of white fluid dribbled from Steven’s penis, the sperm latterly slapped from his balls.

“Sir. You will address me as “sir” any time you speak to me. Do I need to make my point even more forcefully?”

“No sir, no, I’m sorry please, no more sir.”

“That’s more like it. And to answer your question, yes, we’ll be collecting your boy juice. From these.”

The man gripped Steven’s aching testicles and squeezed them firmly in his fist. Steven flinched at the touch, and he was relieved when the man released him without further assault a few moments later.

“You… you want my ji… sperm sir?”

“Not your sperm; your semen. It has many beneficial uses.”

Steven frowned. He didn’t want to find out about the uses, and he feared that asking what they were would come across as complicit interest.

The man continued.

“The feed also contains a cocktail of additional supplements that will ensure that your testicles are operating at greatly increased efficiency. Tell me, are you normally a very horny boy?”

Steven didn’t know how to answer. To admit that he was indeed, constantly horny, and rarely passed up an opportunity to beat his meat, seemed like it would play into whatever purpose the man had in mind. Yet to deny it, would be to suggest that he was not a virile male; somehow prudish or sexually naive. He chose a neutral answer.

“Average I suppose sir.”

The man smiled dryly.

“Of course. Well, within a week, you’ll be constantly horny. Within a month, your body will be producing a hundred times more semen and a thousand times more sperm than it is now. Within three months, your penis will be constantly dribbling cum, and within 6, you’ll be making more than a gallon of semen every day.”

“How much is a gallon sir?”

“8 pints.”

A look of shock painted itself onto the boy’s face.

“But why me? Sir,” he added quickly.

“One of my agents selected you. She said that you appeared well-equipped. Young men with well-developed testicles make the best candidates for our process.”

“Process sir. What process?”

The man gave another humourless smile, then he went to the cubical opening and shouted something in a foreign language. After a few moments, six small individuals entered the room. Steven watched them arrive with trepidation, then bewilderment and mild horror. At first glance, he thought that they were children aged about 7 years old, but it soon became clear that his initial assessment was incorrect. Their faces were wrong; misshapen, elongated, at the same time adult, but not matching the usual proportions. Their bodies were equally misshapen, with stumpy, thick limbs and fat digits on the ends of their fat hands. And they walked with a distinct waddle. They were dwarfs of some sort. Over the coming two years, Steven would come to think of them as Oompa Loompas like those in the Willy Wonka movie, except they were not dressed in playful uniforms; they were all naked. They were also all male.

Steven was surprised to see that their genitals came in a very a wide range of sizes, one had a fat nub, not even half an inch long, and two had pricks similar to his own a few years ago before his pubes grew. But the remaining three had dicks that were significantly larger than Steven’s. They each looked fat, chubby, and although they pointed at the ground, and wobbled as they moved, they looked as though they were semi-erect, straining like over-filled sausages in tight-stretched skin about to burst. One in particular had a beast of a cock; easily seven inches long, even in its currently ambiguous state.

They turned to the man, awaiting instructions, and he said something to them in their own language. Steven was no language expert, but the guttural tones sounded more like curses than friendly instructions.


The dwarves immediately moved into action. The chair was tilted backwards until Steven was reclining at 45 degrees. He heard a pneumatic hissing noise and the supports under his legs spread wide, exposing his unprotected genitals. Even though the posture was not of his choosing, and there was nothing that he could do to prevent it, Steven still felt as though he was displaying himself for everyone’s appraisal.

A dwarf moved behind the chair. Steven craned to see what he was up to, but he was immediately distracted by hands on his genitals. He whipped his head back to the front as two of the dwarves gripped his testicles in their chubby little fingers, one testicle each. They gripped each testicle with two hands each, holding the tender orbs between the thumb and side of the index fingers of each hands, each hand, towards opposite ends of the testicle. Then they started to massage the testicles, hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to cause injury. One of the massagers was the dwarf with no dick.

Steven immediately groaned.

“Ahhh ahhh, what are they doing?!”

“Massaging your testicles.”

“It hurts! Sir, please make them stop!”

“Yes, I do think that 4 takes a vindictive spite in this,” he said, referring to the dwarf with the micro penis. “Probably out of jealousy because his own penis is so tiny. But don’t worry; he knows that if he damages you, I’ll pull his own nuts off, tiny though they may be.”

Steven instinctively glanced between the dwarf’s legs. His scrotum was little more than a bump, albeit one covered in hair. Despite the perilousness of his own predicament, he felt a momentary surge of sympathy for the small man. It was bad enough to have such a deformed body, but to have such stunted genitals must be uncomfortable, and then to have to walk around constantly naked, with his shame on display, especially when three of your companions were so well endowed must have been utterly humiliating. He wondered if the little man could understand English. Hearing his diminutive genitals described so dismissively would be the final straw.

“But why are they doing that to me sir?” Steven said, returning his attention to the man.

“Your testicles are a good size, but they are FAR too small for our needs. With time, they will be a more useful size. The larger they are, the more semen they will produce, and we want them to produce LOTS of semen.”

Steven formerly thought of his semen only as an inconvenient sticky mess that needed cleaning from his pubes and belly after jerking off. He knew that one day it would be the source of his future family, but that was at least a decade in his future, or so he had assumed. Now, his future looked much less certain, and his semen was desired for darker purposes.


Another dwarf started rubbing a foul-smelling, creamy liquid into Steven’s pubes. Steven watched with bewilderment, but before he could ask the purpose of the cream, his attention was drawn to the momentarily-forgotten dwarf behind him. He felt his ass-cheeks being spread to reveal his hole, and then a slippery finger was pressed against his hole. He tried to resist, but thew dwarf easily inserted it, and started finger-fucking him to coax his sphincter muscles to relax. Steven cringed at the sensation, but he was powerless to prevent it. Soon the first finger was joined by another. Then the man stopped, and Steven felt something new being pressed against his hole. It was hard but slippery. It was pushed firmly against his sphincter. He groaned and tried to push back but his hole had already been loosened and the lips of his hole immediately opened to allow the object to enter his rectum. He tried to arch away from it but the waist restraint held him firm, leaving him with no way to prevent the object from entering him.  It entered three inches then stopped, then he felt its end getting larger, spreading as it opened inside him.

“Waste tube,” the man explained. “Now you’ll never need to take a shit again.”

“Never? Are you ever going to let me go sir?”

“I suggest you don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answer to,” the man replied.

Steven’s heart sank. The man’s answer carried so many unpleasant possibilities, but Steven was afraid to ask for further clarification.


The two Oompa Loompas on his balls ceased their painful massage as the one working his pubes, pushed them aside and wiped his groin and balls with a paper towel. Every trace of hair came away, leaving his genitals pink and baby smooth. Another wipe with a second moistened towel neutralised and cleaned the remaining corrosive cream away.

He produced a large plastic bucket containing green, semi-opaque gel and took a large scoop in his hand, then he smeared it liberally over Steven’s smooth genitals, pulling the floppy flesh through his fists repeatedly. Initially, he smeared it all over, but once Steven’s testicles were well coated, he concentrated primarilty on the teenager’s penis, repeatedly pulling it, working it between his two fists, pulling hard with a repeated fist-over-fist movement like a sailor pulling an anchor rope from the sea. Every fifth or sixth pull, he would move his grip lower, allowing his fists to enclose and tug Steven’s testicles along with his penis.

“Owww,” Steven protested. “What’s he doing sir? What’s that stuff?”

“Plasticity compound. Makes your skin stretch. This stuff would be worth a billion dollars on the open market. All those guys with small dicks would love to get their hands on it. But I’m not interested in money, and there are… side effects that most men would not be willing to tolerate for the benefits.”

“Side effects sir?! What kind of side effects?”

“Well, let’s just say that soon, Kermit the frog will not be the only one with a green penis.”

He smiled with genuine humour at his own weak joke.

“As for what he’s doing, he’s stretching your penis to make it larger. No point having elephant-sized testicles, and a human-sized nozzle to drain them through.

Steven’s eyes widened as he formed a mental picture of the man’s words. Elephant-sized testicles? He didn’t know how large that was, but if they were proportional to the rest of the animal… He imagined himself trying to walk with two basket-ball-sized nuts dangling beneath his legs, and his size estimation was uncannily prescient. He pictured himself staggering, with his knees wide apart. There’d be no hiding his massive balls.

What the fuck were they doing to him?! It all sounded outrageously fantastical, but here he was, having his body worked on by six naked dwarfs, so nothing seemed beyond the realms of possibility any more.


Something caught Steven’s eye; something hard where it shouldn’t be;  a log of erect flesh, swinging like the boom of a sailing yacht between the dwarf’s legs. The dwarf yanking on Steven’s genitals had an erection, and a very impressive one at that. It was 9 inches long, and very thick. Steven had seen a lot of hard dicks in porn videos, but this was the ugliest he had ever seen.

It was dark brown and greasy-looking, with a mottled surface as though it was sunburned and part of the skin was worn away revealing lighter patches beneath. It looked like it was stretched much too tight  over a penis too big for it, repeatedly tearing in rings along the shaft, then healing to create a displeasing mottled texture. The surface was lumpy and uneven as though covered with cellulite. It had large veins beneath the skin – not the bulging veins of excitement, but a disfiguring pair of arteries, with branching capillaries, all darkly criss-crossing the shaft.

It had a long foreskin whose skin appeared animalistic, horse-like, the skin too thick for a human. And beneath, pulled up in a loose-skinned, fist sized bag, his testicles.

Even his pubic hair was ugly. It comprised a mat of tightly-coiled jet-black curls, unevenly spread above his cock, and coating his enlarged scrotum.


The man caught Steven staring with a mixture of horror and disgust at the dwarf’s grotesque erection.

“Ah yes, 6 does enjoy his work. He’s doubtless thinking about how he’s going to play with you later.”

The comment snapped Steven out of his staring.

“Play with me sir?”

“Oh yes, I allow them to entertain themselves in between tasks. I expect you’ll be becoming much better acquainted with his penis. I only hope for his sake that he remembers to place the waste plug back when he’s finished with you this time.”

“The waste plug?” Steven asked timidly, although he already knew the answer.

“In your backside.”

Steven felt nauseous. He looked 6 in the face. The dwarf looked back, then gave him a slow grin, revealing a mouth filled with teeth as misshapen and ugly as the rest of his body.


As 6 continued to yank on Steven’s genitals, two more dwarfs placed two small transparent plastic cone-shaped cups over Steven’s small, light brown nipples. There were black rubber pressure bulbs on the other end. They gave the bulbs a few pumps, and soon the air was expelled from the cones, sucking his nipples inside. His boyish nipples puffed up, swelling into the transparent conical cups as the vacuum sucked at them. He looked at them and they appeared ridiculous, protruding like a horny woman’s teats. He felt them tingling, but not unpleasantly so, and that realisation disturbed him more than the fact that they were swollen.


Another dwarf produced a transparent vacuum tube. It was a foot long and twice the diameter of a coffee mug, with a volleyball-sized expansion below to contain Steven’s testicles. He slid the open end over Steven’s genitals, pressing the base of the cylinder against the teen’s newly depilated groin.

A pipe on the other end of the tube was connected to a pump beneath the chair. The dwarf turned a valve and air hissed. At first, Steven did not understand the purpose of the transparent shell that now encased his genitals, but as the air pressure dropped, he felt the blood being sucked into his penis, and it lifted its floppy head, becoming harder and harder. Soon, to his shame and embarrassment, he had a brutally hard erection, that pointed up the cylinder. He blushed purple. Even after all that had happened to him, he was still humiliated by his involuntary public erection.

Then he realised his scrotum was also expanding like a balloon inflating at an amusement park stall. When it was the size of a baseball, it could get no larger, and many tiny veins in the skin ruptured beneath the surface, making a fine red filigree against the white flesh. The dwarf controlling the valve closed it and mumbled something incomprehensible to the man in a surly tone. The man nodded his acknowledgement and the dwarf stood away.

Steven felt like a rat in a sex lab, with all the sexual parts of his young body being probed, pulled, sucked, and stretched simultaneously. His hands clawed at the arm rests as the assault on his body continued. The man examined the work of the dwarfs and nodded. He said something foreign. One of them returned the chair to its sitting position, although Steven’s legs remained splayed. Then the naked dwarfs trooped joylessly from the cubical.

The man turned to join them.

“Wait sir!” Steven said urgently, “you can’t just leave me like this.”

The man turned and looked at him.

“We’ll be back in couple of hours for your first milking. Then more massage.”

“But sir, my nuts; they’re all swollen!”


With that, the man walked away, leaving Steven alone with his straining dick and his bloated scrotum.

Although he’d already established that it was futile, the youngster struggled against his restraints once more, desperately trying to at least move his asshole off the thing that impaled it.

As he thrashed around, he experienced two strange feelings. The first was the sudden sensation of relaxation in his bowels, just like taking a satisfying shit, which, without his intent, was exactly what he had just done. His struggles assisted the passage of faeces along his colon, from where it slipped, unopposed down the collection pipe. Even his bowel movements were no longer his to control!

The second odd sensation was completely unique. Now that it was inflated by the negative external vacuum pressure, his scrotum was essentially a hollow ball, within which his testicles now dangled. As he thrashed around, he could feel them bouncing against the inside of his scrotum like beans against a drum. They still ached mildly from their massage and the man’s assaults, and Steven was sensitive to their every movement. He stopped struggling, and considered his options. So far as he could tell, he had none. Screaming would only get him gagged, and struggling achieved nothing but sweat and friction burns. He waited to see what was to come.

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