Milking Male Essence

Chapter 3

Roger feels the free hand return. It palms his testicles, the back of the hand abrading his perineum. The other hand steadily holds the catheterized p***s. Roger hears steady electronic beeps to his left.

“Ready. One... two... three...”

Nurse Rachel’s count is accompanied by electronic beeps. The count ends with a final ‘buzz’ and an intense jolt and burning sensation in his loins. He indeed lurches against his bonds, spasming violently. He cries out... shouts... his lungs emptying. The electrical charge only surges into the rectal probe for a moment, yet the result is unforgettable.

Roger slumps in his restraints. Nurse Rachel laughs again.

“All gone. A nice big sperm sample for Nurse Rachel and it only takes a second. You should see what I made you give up, Roger. A shame we have to keep you blindfolded.”

Roger feels the tending hands first slip away the penetrating modified Texas catheter. Then they sooth his p***s and balls. A cool and wet cloth begins to sponge an abundance of perspiration from his traumatized form. The hands are surprisingly tender and caring.

Then he senses her proximity. She leans to whisper in his ear. He feels the warmth of her breath on his sweat coated body.

“A little respite. Then you’ll bear just two more jolts for Nurse Rachel. As I said, I will drain you... completely. I am sure a big boy like you can take it, although you have no choice.”

The cooling cloth continues swabbing in preparation for the next jolt.

“You’ll never understand the sense of empowerment, Roger. When the voltage surges, I can feel your most intimate organs and muscles react to my will. It’s as if I have your p***s and balls on a leash. Perhaps comparing you to a puppet may be a better analogy. I pull a string... your organs react.

“How do you feel?”

Roger’s voice is most humble.

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck, but I do not feel injured.”

“There are no injuries. The procedure is completely safe. But it will affect your psyche, as intended.”

***

Long Island Railroad – Queens, New York

“Woodside.”

The conductor’s stentorian voice snaps Roger Armsworth Todd from his reverie. He finds himself quaking with the vivid recollections... being electrically shocked to extract his male seed. Though incredibly painful, with a quick but visceral and gut wrenching jolt to nerves and muscles normally the source of pleasure, his sperm was harvested, time after time, day after day. Each procedure was performed without an iota of compunction... the examination... the cleansing of his colon... the collection of urine... the stuffing of his anus... the beeps... the final buzz... the application of electricity. With each visit there were three milkings.

Was there anything left to offer for the third shock?

Blindfolded he never was to see. Yet Nurse Rachel was intractable. No amount of begging stayed her from the delightful duty of taking complete control of what is otherwise a uniquely male undertaking—the ejaculation of the seed of life.

The doors close. The train resumes its journey. Roger Armsworth Todd resumes his thoughts.

***

Visit Number One – Continued

Between applications of horrifyingly painful electricity, Nurse Rachel engages in small talk. Casual conversation which Roger had learned to avoid in prison. Thus he reluctantly responds on the first visit. Inadvertently broaching a controversial topic in prison could lead to confrontation. And so as he lays naked and bound, Nurse Rachel talks and Roger, mind recovering from humiliation and trauma, listens... somewhat.

Then after a prescribed time, Nurse Rachel announces it is time for another sample.

“Please no!”

“Oh, Roger. You don’t have to worry about your performance, not being able to get it up. I do all the work, me and the electro stimulator.”

Still lying blindfolded with wrists and neck in the stocks, bent at the waist with thighs well parted and ankles restrained high above, Roger feels the hands once again take his limp manhood. Nurse Rachel again begins the procedure. It is precise. It is mechanical. It is unrelenting.

One hand palms the flaccid underside of the shaft. This time a thumb or finger gently swirls about the most sensitive glans to bring an initial brisance of delight. Then the other hand begins the gentle patting action, forcing circulation into a well drained organ. To Roger’s chagrin, the angle remains uncomfortably pointing towards Nurse Rachel. Aggravating, but seeming to enhance his engorgement as the organ tries to escape her tender but controlling grasp.

Pat, pat, pat.

“Come now, Roger, I want you to perform for me. Let’s get your p***s nice and hard for Nurse Rachel.”

Pat, pat, pat.

“Help your nurse. Think about some nasty deed.”

Pat, pat, pat.

“Think about that unsuspecting girl you raped.”

Pat, pat, pat.

“Young and naive. I am sure she was quiet nubile.”

Pat, pat, pat.

“Ah, here we go. You’re getting harder and harder for me.”

Pat, pat, pat.

The taunting yet encouraging words spew forth as the hands methodically work the otherwise depleted phallus. For Roger, there comes an aching sensation. But as Nurse Rachel demands, there also comes full tumescence pointing so awkwardly downward.

Pat, pat, pat.

“Yes, you’re ready for me. Nicely erect.”

The motion temporarily stops as the curious Texas catheter once again slides into his urethra then rolls to invaginate the swollen p***s tip. In an instant the precision handiwork resumes.

Pat, pat, pat.

“I think you’re ready and eager to perform for me, Roger.”

Again the rhythm of the patting hand momentarily pauses and the machine to Roger’s left side resumes its hum.

Pat, pat, pat.

“I like to extend the timing. I prefer that a boy come at my whim... that he fully understand I am in charge... of even this normally sensual deed. In time, you’ll learn to prepare yourself with the sound of the beeps. Your glands will expect release. Sort of Pavlovian. But delightfully Kafkaesque, training a boy to sexually respond by preparing to ejaculate for a machine. You’ll find the beeps to be erotic. Quite dehumanizing, don’t you think?”

Pat, pat, pat. The beeps begin.

“Ready. One... two... three...”

With the count of three there follows the notable buzz as the rectal probe applies another instantaneous electrical charge. Nurse Rachel maintains her governing grip as it is accompanied by an intense jolt and burning sensation in his loins. There is the same reaction. He lurches. He spasms violently. There comes another cry... a shout... his lungs empty.

“Oh that is very good, Roger. Your little ejaculatory muscles contracted quite strongly. I like to feel that. Not much sperm. But that’s why we’re here, to drain you thoroughly and completely.”

Once again the catheter is slipped away. Ironically, the torturing hands begin to sooth and the voice oddly consoles. Her fingers once again manipulate and roll the cartilage of his ear.

“Have I told you about my garden?”

***

Long Island Railroad

“Jamaica.”

A major stop. Many passengers depart to change trains. The conductor’s announcement and the commotion draw Roger from his recollection. He cautiously glances back. Nurse Rachel, or whatever is her name, reads the evening paper. He remains unnoticed.

‘What is his plan?’ he asks himself. He risks being returned to prison for violating the terms of the commutation of his sentence. Farmingdale is a long way from Woodside. There can be no plausible excuse for the serious infraction of leaving his allowed zone. What does he intend to gain?

The psychologist’s many questions begin to roll through his mind like the credits at the end of a motion picture.

After every visit there came the seemingly endless walk down the drab hallway to her office. Endless due to Roger’s nakedness. He’d carry his clothes at waist level, cloaking his shriveled and well depleted manhood. Most of the professional women ignored his embarrassment. But still his heart pounded until he was invited into the psychologist’s office for final counseling.

Gratefully, the visits were quick... the questions and his answers perfunctory.

‘How do you feel?’

‘Are you embarrassed? Why?’

‘Do you feel the urge to be with a woman?’

‘Do you feel the urge to be with a man?’

‘Do you feel the urge to masturbate?’

‘Are you disconcerted about having a woman take control of your p***s?’

‘That is all for now. Get dressed and contact us immediately if you experience any s****l desires or urges.’

And that ended the first visit and every visit thereafter, lying naked on a couch responding to the most intrusive questions of the termagant psychologist.

And the final instruction Roger found to be most superfluous. Nurse Rachel drained him of every ounce of male fluid. He truly was a well milked cow. There were no ‘urges’ other than to rest and sleep.

Doors close. The train’s motion returns him to his reverie.

***

Visit Number One – Conclusion

“A final blood sample and we’re done.”

Quickly drawn, Roger quietly lies... hit by a truck three times... or so he feels. Nurse Rachel reported obtaining absolutely no fluid with the final charge to the probe in his rectum despite cruelly increasing the voltage. True? Blindfolded, he never would know.

Removing the probe proves to be a chore. Roger is again embarrassed, this time in finding that fear and apprehension have caused his dilated rectum to very much tighten. A knowing Nurse Rachel, sensing the strong resistance of a tensing purse string muscle, reaches to gently toy with right n****e then left as Roger feels tugging on what he assumes to be a wire emanating from his anus.

“Just relax, Roger. Don’t resist your Nurse Rachel...”

The smooth cylinder is finally rejected with a plop.

Thigh bands and ankle cuffs released then removed, the table is folded upwards and restored to full length. Roger lays supine with his neck and wrists secured.

“I will leave you now. You’ll feel the neck and wrist restraints release. You can then remove the blindfold, take your clothing and return to Dr. Grayson’s office. She prefers you to be interviewed without clothing, Roger. Do be a good boy. It’s a short walk and we’re accustomed to our humbled bad boys romping about naked.”

With that, the unseen tormentress unlatches the door and steps out. There comes the whir of the small motors and whatever has encircled his wrists and neck fold away. In removing the blindfold, Roger pauses to become accustomed to the light. He then examines, but whatever padded metal closed over his wrists and neck is not to be seen, as it folds away into the cleverly designed stocks.

It requires many moments to summon the energy to walk. Remarkably, that seems to be the only discernible after effect of the excruciating shocks... exhaustion... as if he had copulated for an entire day.

Finally he gathers his clothes and cautiously steps to the well lit hallway, not knowing whether to run or bear the scorn of passersby.

He compromises in walking quickly. But the answer to his knock on the psychologist’s door is heart-stoppingly delayed. A smiling young nurse pauses to giggle then moves onward. Is it Nurse Rachel? Not likely, too young.

It is only now that he knows for sure that it was not.

***

Long Island Railroad

‘I will politely introduce myself,’ Roger answers himself, cognizance returning to the present.

But will she answer any questions? Worse, will she call the police?

Nurse Rachel, or whatever is her name, is well aware that Roger Armsworth Todd must live his life under the strict agreement of his commutation. Place of employment... train... one half mile radius of his Woodside apartment are his permitted zones... his world. Within, there is to be no contact with women. No contact with children—though certainly not a pedophile. No proximity to schools.

She could report him. During the initial visit he recalls her confident voice explaining that to lie would mean ‘a quick trip up the river’. So she is aware that something as flagrant as appearing in Farmingdale, some thirty miles outside his permitted radius, would result in more than serving out his remaining six years. Perhaps another ten tacked on... fifteen?

The rhythmic clatter of the tracks mesmerizes, returning Roger to his memories.

Subsequent Visits

Roger learns that the sampling of blood, both before the procedure of electro ejaculation and afterwards, is to measure his hormone levels. The expulsion of seed greatly reduces testosterone levels, so he was informed.

“We’re turning you into a lamb, Roger. Though I milk you like cow, you leave here as gentle as a new born ovine. Guess my farm animal analogy becomes somewhat strained.”

Nurse Rachel speaks as Roger recovers from another massive initial explosion into the modified Texas catheter receptacle. Every third day he visits. And on every visit he is shocked three times with Nurse Rachel graphically describing the resulting effluent. The third jolt, always the most powerful, always yields nothing, so she reports. Yet it brings pleas on every visit.