The first sign was the pain.
It wasn’t all the time, it hit him at different times during the day. A kind of throbbing and aching that increased, and gradually lessened. It started a few years ago, after he had quit church.
When the pastor had gotten caught banging the choir director after hours, Derek James had finally seen the light, so to speak. All these years, growing up in the church, people told him that sex was bad, that you shouldn’t touch yourself, that you waited for marriage and stayed faithful to your wife. Well, if the pastor couldn’t do it, who could?
He kept his discontent to himself for a while, but then he started noticing how much money they were asking for and how often, and he thought about how fancy the church was and how the pastor still drove a Caddy and had a gold watch in spite of his supposed disgrace. It crept up on him, and finally he left.
It was a relief more than anything else. But there was no relief for one thing. That was the pain. It shot through his crotch, and was only relieved by his occasional dreams of women, who he didn’t know how to relate to at all. Derek loved women, but he didn’t know what to say to them.
So he said nothing. He stayed in his cubicle at work and tried not to think about Debbie the receptionist, with her red-blonde hair and voluptuous breasts, or Kaniesha who worked in Accounting with her perfectly round ass that bounced when she walked, or Lena in Shipping with her muscular, tanned body, her low husky laugh and her lips that put Angelina Jolie to shame. But he did dream about them, often, and awakened to find a mess in the bed and thoughts that he didn’t know how to handle swirling through his head. And then the pain would go away, for a while.
He still couldn’t bring himself to masturbate. He felt always like someone was watching him.
And now there was the pain. Right “there.” Where the only time he touched himself was to wash.
The day he had to stay home from work because of the pain, Derek got scared and called the doctor. He had no choice of physicians due to his insurance plan, and after 45 minutes on the phone he was finally directed to a Dr. Farren as his “primary care” physician. At that point he didn’t care if it was Dr. Frankenstein or Dr. Lecter, as long as they could get rid of the pain.
On the way to Dr. Farren’s office he visualized horrible things, some kind of terrible problem, some rare disease or creeping crud that was destroying his manhood, even though he thought bitterly about how since he didn’t use it anyway, it’d make no difference.
The office was white and clean and the waiting room was filled with People. The magazine, that is. Along with Sports Illustrated and Woman’s Day and little booklets with cheerful titles like “How To Deal With Your Spondylitic Ankylosis,” and “What To Do About Edematic Praxitelitis” and “Coping With Your Pyloric Chondritis.” None of the magazines was any newer than 2003 and he didn’t want to chance the booklets; his hypochondria was already in high gear.
The nurse called him into the examining room, and he waited. Dr. Farren showed up and he groaned inwardly. A woman. He was going to have to tell a woman about this…pain.
She was friendly but businesslike. “The nurse tells me you have pain in your groin area,” she said. “If you want a male doctor to examine you, I think we can arrange for that, if you’d be more comfortable?”
“N…No!” Derek said. As embarrassing as it was for a woman to look at his…you know…it would be even worse if some guy were to do it. “I think I can cope, um, you know?”
“All right,” Dr. Farren replied. There was a silence in the room. She looked at him. He looked at her. A moment passed. Then another one.
“Mr. James?” she said gently. “I can’t examine you with your clothes on.”
“Oh right, right,” he said. I’m a perfect idiot, he thought. He quickly stripped down while she made notes of some sort. Then he sat on the examining table, which was cold as ice. She looked up and immediately her brow wrinkled.
Derek felt ill. He knew it. This was some horrid disease.
“Mr. James,” Dr. Farren said, “I can see from here that you must be in a lot of pain.”
“Yes,” he said. BUT FROM WHAT! He screamed mentally. What horrible disease do I have?
“This is the most advanced case of Puteulanus Orbis Res I’ve ever seen,” she said. “Do you ever ejaculate?”
Derek died even more inside. “No,” he said. “I just…um…no.”
“No girlfriend or boyfriend?” she said. “No sex life to speak of? Not even masturbation?”
“No,” he said in utter misery.
“That explains it then,” she said. “The pain is coming from a complete non-emission of spermatozoic material, apparently dating from adolescence.” She gingerly handled his balls, which were purple and huge. To his utter embarrassment, Derek immediately got an erection. Combined with the pain, this was not his best day. As a matter of fact, he wanted to die. Again.
She examined his genitals. Her smooth hand slipped over his erection. Was it his imagination or was she a little too familiar? No, couldn’t be. She didn’t actually stroke it and squeeze it, did she? He tried to put it out of his terrorized mind. “Really good reaction,” Dr. Farren said, almost to herself. “Exceptional urogenital physiology.” Derek thought he was imagining things, but she almost sounded a bit wistful.
Dr. Farren stepped back. “Mr. James,” she said, “I do have a treatment that may offer some relief for you, but it’s rather experimental at this point. However, since this is an extreme case we have to do something, or else this pain may not go away. It will definitely get worse, as a matter of fact.”
Derek’s balls were still hurting, and his inflated erection now hurt as well. “Anything, please,” he said. “I just want to feel something besides this pain. Do I have cancer?”
“No,” Dr. Farren said. “You have the worst case of Puteulanus Orbis Res I have ever seen in my life, and if we don’t do something this afternoon, there’s no telling what will happen. But we have something for this. Let me call Nurse Bucksam. She’s been trained with our new device and she’s very good with this sort of thing. We can have her in here in 10 minutes.”
“Does it involve…needles, or cutting or anything?” Derek squeaked.
“Not at all,” Dr. Farren said in a reassuring voice. “There’s no invasive procedure and it will provide complete relief, I can assure you.”
“Does my insurance cover it?” Derek said. The pain was unbelievable. He couldn’t believe he asked that question. He realized after he said it that he no longer cared if it cost his entire year’s salary.
“Yes,” she said. “Let me call the nurse, I can tell you’re in pain.”
“Do it,” Derek said. “Anything.”
The 10 minutes passed like eternity as he covered himself with a bedsheet in the cold examining room. His erection, of course, refused to go away. He thought about his grandma, he thought about baseball, he thought about liver and onions, and his thoughts still came back to Dr. Farren’s very smooth, feminine hand touching him. And his cock swelled back up again.
After a few million eons, the door squeaked open and he saw a young nurse wheeling something into the room that was covered with a blanket. She closed the door behind her.
“Mr. James?” she said. “I’m Nurse Bucksam.”
She was about 25 years old and blonde, with her hair tied back efficiently, wearing scrubs that could not at all hide her incredible figure. This didn’t help. Derek’s cock bloated up under the sheet. “Hello,” he managed to say.
“You’re the gentleman with Puteulanus Orbis Res Syndrome?” she said sympathetically.
“I think that’s what Dr. Farren said,” Derek replied. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Oh,” Nurse Bucksam said. “Well, in non-medical terms it means blue balls.”
Derek’s brain raced back to high school. He’d heard the term there. He just didn’t know what it meant. He’d been too busy in Young Christian Chess Players Group.
Nurse Bucksam saw the expression on his face. “Mr. James, this is not that unusual,” she said comfortingly. “We don’t often see a case this advanced, but it’s not fatal. Usually people find a solution for it themselves, but it appears you just need a little additional assistance.”
She pulled the cover off the machine. What Derek saw was a square grey box with a number of knobs and a switch, with two hoses leading off the side. “This is the cylinder,” she said, pointing to a plastic tube in her other hand. The tube seemed to have a rubber lining and a small black ring at its bottom, with two nipples on the top of the cylinder ready to be attached to the tubes.
Derek had no idea what was going on. “I don’t mean to be stupid, but what…”
She smiled reassuringly as she reached for the plastic tubes, brought them to the cylinder’s tip, and began threading them into place.
“Mr. James, you really have to be drained. We’re going to use our new device on you, a machine that is designed to relieve advanced cases of blue balls like yours in the most natural way possible.”
“Your penis is about to experience The Milker. It’s a machine originally developed for use in sperm clinics. It’s designed to have a man ejaculating heavily in a relatively quick period of time, which is important in emergency cases like yours. It also provides the operator unrestricted access to the donor’s testicles throughout his milking, which is very important when we want to get a lot of sperm out.”
“Oh,” Derek said. The truth was that just hearing her talk about it was keeping him hard as a rock.
“The only problem,” she said, “is that we will have to restrain you, in order to keep you from making movements that would disrupt the machine. A lot of men experience inadvertent movements or try to grab the cylinder, but you have to let the machine do its work. Are you willing to be restrained?”
Nurse Bucksam’s eyes were shining as she mentioned the restraints. Derek almost believed she enjoyed it, but he reminded himself she was, after all, a trained medical professional and must know what she was doing. “Anything to get rid of the pain,” he said. “Yes.”
The nurse smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “Now stretch out your arms and legs.” Derek did, and she expertly buckled him down, his arms out to his sides and his legs apart. “Try to move,” she said breathily. He tried, and couldn’t. “Very good,” she said, a little too enthusiastically to be professional. “We can’t have this here, though,” she continued, and removed the sheet from Derek’s midsection. His cock jutted up in the air, with his hefty balls falling beneath. Nurse Bucksam ran her hand over his cock, encircling it with her fingers. “Just measuring,” she said. “It really does appear that you have a healthy penile physiology.” Derek shuddered.
The nurse lubricated the cylinder with a bit of some kind of jelly. She slid the device over his cock, slowly, and he gasped; it felt smooth and inviting, like a wet mouth. He began to get harder. The nurse smiled comfortingly at him. Or was it just a bit feral? Derek’s head was spinning.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Just let me adjust it properly.” She turned a black ring around the base of the milker, and he felt it lock into place around the base of his cock with a tiny hiss.
Satisfied that the tube was securely fastened, the nurse turned sideways and put her finger on a switch. “When I flick this switch, your penis will experience stimulation designed to lead you to the point where you ejaculate massively, which will relieve the buildup in your testes.” Derek’s brain was almost entirely zoned out, between the relieving feeling of the cylinder on his penis and the nurse’s figure. But he did manage to think she sounded like she was enjoying this a bit much.
“I’ll be massaging your testes while you’re getting milked,” she continued, “and when you cum, it’s our procedure to squeeze the subject’s testicles, in order to get all the ejaculate out. Just relax.” She smiled at him again. “It won’t be painful. Actually, quite the opposite.” And with that, Nurse Bucksam flicked the switch.
He felt nothing at first, but heard a hum. The machine was building up its suction. It began almost unnoticeably, softly suckling in a carefully timed rhythm, rising and falling along the length of his cock. The sensation was amazing, almost a swirling, but clasping tightly at the same time.
Looking down, he saw the nurse smiling disarmingly, reaching for his helpless bloated package. Grasping softly, she delicately squeezed his balls, one in each beautiful hand. Then she turned around and twisted a knob.
The machine became insistent. Pulsing, sucking, deliberately pulling at his deepest animal instincts, it sent waves of sensation up and down his cock, stimulating it, bringing it to its full size, rising and falling. The sucking sensation was fantastic. Yet there was no noise, just the soft hum of the machine and the nurse’s sympathetic voice. He looked down to see the machine stroking away at his cock, pulling and suckling at it, while the nurse looked at the procedure with approval.
With that beautiful, understanding smile, she said: “Mr. James, a lot of men need visual stimulation to help them ejaculate quickly. Would you like me to take this off?” He just groaned, feeling her release his balls. He watched as she slid the scrub top off, revealing a pink, lacy bra that was barely restraining a pair of breasts that outdid any he had ever seen. The swell of her abundant cleavage was devastating. The intricate lacy patter of her flimsy pink bra had him mesmerized. She noticed his cock swelling even more in the sucking cylinder. “My, my, that seemed to help,” she said jokingly. He felt the nurse begin to massage his balls again, gently patting the underside of his bloated bull-nuts. “These are awfully big, Mr. James – you should be thanking me for relieving you of such a heavy load!” He realized that he was helpless, and the machine was pushing him to an inevitable orgasm. The vision of the busty nurse waiting for his cum was no help, and he felt himself giving in to the machine’s insistent sucking and stroking and the nurse’s obvious charms.
“Ahhh…there we are Mr. James.” She felt the first contraction of his balls, and she began pushing the flat of her palm upwards, lifting and pressing into his bloated sack. “I can feel your balls tightening. Quit holding back – let the Milker take your load,” she said coaxingly. “You’ll feel so much better.” She continued to sympathetically massage his massive sack.
The machine’s suckling was insistent, urging him closer and closer. Mr. James’s eyes darted between the nurse’s incredibly sexy breasts, her bra and the smooth, deep cleavage it created, and the delicate gold chain dangling there. He was beyond the point of control. She felt his testes drawing up, tightening further.
She released her hold on his balls once more. “Maybe you need a bit more visual stimulation,” she said, and with one smooth undulation, she removed her bra. Her big pink breasts spilled out, swaying a little as she dropped her bra on the examining stool. Her brown nipples stood out in the cool air of the room. “There. Is that a help?” All Derek could do was nod.
She bent down with a sly smile and began massaging his testicles again as the cylinder dropped down on his penis and then slowly pulled up, sucking away on his cock. “Don’t be shy, Mr. James, I drain men like you all the time. It’s so normal to ejaculate, and it feels so good, and it’ll give you so much relief.” Was her voice a bit husky? “It’ll feel so good when you cum,” she said enticingly. “So good.”
He continued to stare at her massive breasts and comforting smile. After 2 or 3 slow squeezes, he began bucking desperately against his restraints, and gushed into the clear receptacle with a groan as it pulled his cock into orgasm. “Oh yes, here we go!” she said with a smile. Pulling firmly, she proceeded to lightly pat and massage his nuts with her hands. “Big balls get so tight when they come!”
He bucked and gushed, filling the pumping receptacle over and over, and with each spurt, the machine efficiently whisked his cum away in the clear tube. There was no doubt any more that Nurse Bucksam enjoyed her work: “Cum for me! Yes, that’s it, that’s it!” she growled. “Cum for your nurse. Cum now!” She maintained her massaging and spanking of his bloated nuts, and he did. The machine continued for what must have been a full minute, pulling out a stream of steady squirts, each one praised. “Good boy, good boy,” she purred as he spurted and gasped. His body was completely out of his control, and all he could see was stars. And the nurse’s tits, which, he managed to think, were the most divine tits ever. Which set him off even more, filling the tube again.
When he finally stopped cumming, the nurse looked up at a thoroughly exhausted man. “Are we all finished cumming, Mr. James?” she inquired approvingly. She kept massaging his balls. Between the insistent milking machine’s strokes, he wheezed: “I think you got it all.” She released his balls with one hand while the other turned off the machine. “Is the pain gone?” she inquired. “Yes,” Derek managed, as she slid the tube away from his cock. It came away with a slight pop.
“There now,” she said. She quickly put her bra back on and slid her scrub top over her head, and once more she looked professional. “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Now get cleaned up, and when you’re ready, come out to the desk and fill out some paperwork. Shall we book you again for next week?” She leaned forward and whispered, “I’ll be looking forward to it!”