Forced milking, futuristic, e-stim, genital reduction, humiliation

A young man is reduced so that he will never become a breeder.

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The Panel – Chapter 6

Ferdy sat on a gynaecology chair in one of the many medical rooms. His last orgasm was seven minutes ago, and he was deeply grateful that the stimulators had finally been deactivated. He just wanted this ordeal to be over. He’d lost enough weight over the past week to look gaunt. Every fibre of his body was exhausted, and he was struggling to stay awake, which was unsurprising as he had experienced over 2000 orgasms in the past seven days.

Before he came to the centre, he was a normal teenager; frequently horny and ever eager to knock one out. He’d never had sex; the legal consequences were just too serious for both parties, but that didn’t stop him from tugging his pudding two or three times a day, going at it with the same regularity as a Muslim praying to Mecca.

And now, there was absolutely nothing he wanted less. His lifeless testicles drooped like lead balls in a wax marble bag in front of a hot fire.

His legs were spread and a nurse stood between his knees. She stroked the inside of his thigh lightly, but his testicles remained stationary. She tried again, and again they did not respond.

“Your cremaster muscles have ceased responding.”

“What does that mean?” Ferdy asked. “Is it bad?”

“No, not bad. It’s good. It means you won’t need to spend another few days here. Your cremaster muscles control the elevation of your testicles. Your testicles rise during orgasm thanks to the cremaster. They’re the muscles that your testicles dangle from. One of the purposes of your stay has been to overwork them.”

She gripped the left cremaster through the soft skin.

“You’re going to feel a prick.”

She inserted a needle into the fibrous tube and injected something. Ferdy jumped as the needle punctured the skin.

“Sorry,” she said.

“What’s that for?”

She injected the other side.

“It ensures that the muscles remain paralysed. They won’t work again properly without a neutralising agent.”

“Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?”

“Because that simply inhibits orgasm; it doesn’t eliminate prostate function, or prevent the production of sperm, and it doesn’t reduce the size of your genitals.”

She picked up his left testicle and compared it against a string of rubber ovals in her hand.

“5ml left,” she said to her assistant.

She evaluated the right side.

“4ml right. Excellent, that’s a perfect result. A reduction of 11 and 13ml.”

“Is that the size?”

Ferdy didn’t need anyone telling him that his balls had shrunk dramatically. He could see at a glance how empty his nutsack seemed. It was mostly empty skin.

“The volume. They’ve reduced by about 75%. That’s almost a perfect result.”

“What would have been perfect?”

“Well,” she said candidly, “I imagine the government would say if they disappeared entirely, but medical consensus says that 80% guarantees the end of all sexual function without intervention. By the way, your scrotum will rapidly shrink. You won’t have that flap of skin for more than six months”

“Greeeat.”

She pinched the skin of his upper left arm and pressed an applicator.

“This will sting.”

Ferdy steeled himself. There was a click, and something smacked his arm, and then it was over.

“What was that?”

“Slow-release hormone tab. Now that your testicles no longer produce hormones either, this sub-dermal tab will replace all of the hormones your body requires, except those affecting arousal and sexual function. You can still build muscle and bone mass. It lasts for a year. We’ll replace it every year during your annual check-up.”

“What about the cage?”

“You get to wear that for the next year as well.”

“Then what?”

“Then you get a smaller one for another year. On your 18^th birthday, that one gets removed.”

“Then no more cage?”

“Nope, your penis will have been permanently reduced, and without hormones to restimulate it, it will never return to its former size.”

She looked at his clothes.

“You’re free to dress and go home, but you can’t wear the clothes you came here in. Do you have show-alls?”

“My dad brought these the other day.”

Ferdy opened a backpack and showed her.

“Good, if you’d like to put them on now. From this point on, it will be illegal to cover yourself in public or any time you are in the presence of a female, even in private. That includes long shirts that cover your groin. The penalties for doing so can be quite severe, do you understand?”

Ferdy sighed and looked down at the ground. He was dreading going outside with his shrunken nuts and caged cock on display, but he was no rebel.

He climbed off the chair and pulled up his new trousers. They were in a sporty style, made of stretchable material. When they were fully up to his waist, he looked down at himself. He looked ridiculous, with a panel missing to let his caged cock and pale hairless nuts dangle free.

He pulled on a T, and it did nothing to hide his nakedness. In fact, it had a curved cut out designed specifically to match the show-alls.

“One final thing,” the nurse said, “for the rest of your life, you will be stimulated remotely for two hours per week. You can decide which days and what time, although it cannot be during education hours. Do you have a preference? You can change it later if you decide your choice is inconvenient.”

“Stimulated? But I thought you said I couldn’t…”

“Not without assistance, but your prostate and testicles can still be electrically induced to respond. You’ll experience one 75% power orgasm every two minutes for each hour.”

“Every two minutes?!”

“You won’t be able to do anything else for that hour,” the doctor added ominously.

He thought about it. Water polo on Monday and Thursday, and he didn’t want to be exhausted on Friday when he sometimes went out with his friends.

“I guess, 10pm on Wednesday and Saturday?” he offered.

“You sure?”

“I guess so. I can change it right?”

“Sure, just do it through CitCom.”

Her assistant entered his chosen times on their computer.

“The first one will be on Saturday at 10pm then. You’re all done.”

“Ummm, will I need a towel?”

“You might like to keep one on hand, but it’s extremely unlike that you’ll need it. You can go home now. Be sure to check out with admissions on the way out.”

Ferdy picked up his clothes and walked towards front desk, a deep sense of dread in his stomach. Being naked in the centre was like being naked in a doctors office; it made him self-conscious, but it felt appropriate, but now he was about to have his first public outing.

He walked to the admissions desk. Beyond was a hubbub of activity; young men coming and going, and parents or relatives waiting. He spotted his parents, sitting preoccupied by a vid playing on the wall. He left them to continue watching, and instead turned to the desk, happy for a few more seconds of privacy.

A woman at the desk looked up and smiled.

“Hello, checking out?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ferdy Howell?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She pressed a button and a printer produced a sticker. She attached it to small booklet and handed it to him.

“This has answers to many questions that you may have. There’s a number there if you need to speak to a counsellor. They can help you with any emotions you may have difficulty with. A lot of young men like to talk. Your stim times are on the front. Please remember, it is illegal to cover up.”

 She glanced down at his naked groin. And smiled.

“Have a great day.”

“Thank you.”

Now it was the real test. He had to walk across a room full of people to his parents with his junk on display.

“Loads of them are naked too,” he told himself.

In actual fact, the majority of the young men were naked. None of the adults were, except for a single guard.

He took a deep breath, looked straight ahead and walked towards his parents, with his ridiculous shrunken nuts and his caged dick, its purple head plainly visible through the glass cap.

Halfway there, his mother noticed him. She nudged her husband and he looked too. They both smiled and stood up. Ferdy walked through the busy waiting room, eyes locked on them like a condemned man approaching the gallows. As he approached, his face started to glow crimson red. The waiting room had seen tens of thousands of red faces down the years.

His mother gave a sympathetic grin of support and stepped forwards to meet him.

She flung her arms around him.

“Hello sweet, how are you doing.”

He was so tense he almost broke under her hug.

“Can we just go please mom?”

“Of course.”

They left and headed towards stacker zone 18g where his dad had parked the transpod.

“So Ferdy, bet you’re glad to be outta there?”

“You have no idea dad. It stank of you-know-what, and I felt like I was surrounded by zombies.”

“Zombies sweetie, what do you mean?” his mother asked.

“You know, the constant moaning.”

“Moaning?”

“Yeah, all the guys moaning.”

She frowned, uncomprehending.

“I think he’s talking about all the guys constantly blowing their loads.”

A look of comprehension dawned on her face.

“Ohhh, goodness, was it really that bad? But you weren’t were you?”

“We all were. Every three minutes.”

“Gosh, that must have been… very hard to take.”

“It was. Completely draining.”

She glanced at his groin.

“I um, noticed that your testicles are, well… have they shrunk?”

“Yeah, of course. Do you think I always had nuts like a chipmunk?! The doctor said they lost 75 percent of their volume. That’s what they were doing to me all week.”

At that moment, a crowd of tourists approached on their way to the entertainment district. None of them wore show-alls. Ferdy noticed a number of the young women glancing down at his groin, and a couple of them made expressions that looked like sympathy. Ferdy blushed as his family moved into a single file to allow the other party to pass.

When they had gone, Ferdy said, “I feel SO self-conscious right now.”

“Yeah, I bet you do, but it will pass. You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.”