Forced milking

(Part 2 from 2. Fiction.)

For his part, the orgasm momentarily stopped Ron in his tracks, and he rolled onto his side gasping at its intensity. It gave Zack time to scoot away to safety across the room.

As soon as he was able to, Ron rose back onto his sock-covered feet, mindless of the considerable splashes of spooge that he had deposited on the floor. He was angry. This was way beyond a joke in his eyes. Zack was just making him look like a total choad now. He rose to his full 5 foot 4 height, and stood facing Zack in an aggressive gunslinger-like posture, not even bothering to cover himself. Zack was bigger and stronger, but he could sense Ron’s fury.

“Gimme that remote you asshole,” Ron demanded, walking across the room.
“Oooh,” Brandon said, ridiculing Ron’s rage.
“Look out Zack, he looks pretty pissed,” Aaron said.
Giggling, Zack quickly ran over, so that the air hockey table was between him and Ron. Ron advanced on him, but for every step one way that Ron made, Zack matched it in the opposite direction.

“You need to calm down Ron,” Zack said, and Ron answered him with a filthy scowl, trying ineffectively to lunch across the table. “Maybe if you shoot your wad, you might feel calmer?” He pressed the ejaculate button again.
“Awww no, Zack, you didn’t do it again?” Lucas asked laughing, and Zack nodded grinning, and playing to the other boys. Max chuckled hysterically, his voice made falsetto by the extent of his humor. The other three guys were all laughing too.

Ron was starting to look genuinely distressed. He knew that he couldn’t prevent another orgasm. He leaned on the air hockey table, bracing himself. His breathing was fast, somewhere between a grizzle and a pant. He was looking at his friend, his face screwed up in an expression of deep misery, imploring Zack wordlessly to realize how humiliating this had become.

Ron’s third orgasm in five minutes overtook him. His balls and prostate contracted simultaneously, squirting yet another impressive load. It spattered onto the side of the air hockey table, and ran down it in thick dribbles. Ron’s knees wobbled and collapsed in towards each other, dropping him to his knees, and he let out and wince of discomfort, “Ah, how.”

His friends laughed riotously, but Ron wasn’t remotely amused. He supported himself on the side of the table, with his head hung down. He knew that there was nothing he could do to get the remote from Zack, and the ejaculator was too tightly lodged in his ass to pull out. He gave up trying to take the remote, and instead he shuffled over to the centre of the room feeling distraught. He sat on his heels, with his knees wide spread to relieve the pain on his balls. His bone was up tight against his stomach. The head was flared and engorged and shiny with cum.

Ron looked at Zack, his face desolate, tears forming in his eyes, and he begged from the heart, “Dude, enough now please. I’m feeling so fucking embarrassed in front of everyone right now. It’s not funny anymore – dude seriously, I’m begging you, you’re fucking me up. Please, please. No more.”

Everyone looked at him, and they could see that he was genuinely distressed, and it was clear that the game had already gone too far.
Brandon said, “Hey Zack, I think he’s had enough. You made your point dude.”
“Yeah man,” Lucas added, “don’t do it no more or his nuts are gonna explode or something!”

Zack said, “Awww okay, sure. Here you go Ron.”
He stepped out from behind the air hockey table and offered the remote to Ron. Just as Ron almost had his fingers on it, Zack pressed the ejaculate button one last time.
“Oops!” he said with a smirk.

Ron grabbed the remote, but he knew it was already too late. He wailed in anguish as the feeling in his prostate and testicles grew.
“Noooo!”

He covered his face with his left hand, tightly clutching the remote in the other hand. The fourth orgasm wracked him, and although there were just two small streamers of semen, they jetted from his body forcefully, rising 18 inches into the air as his testicles and prostrate powerfully contracted, forcing him to ejaculate. Ron clutched at his balls and whined in pain.

“Ahhhhh.”
He burst into tears, overwhelmed.
“Ahhh huh huh huh.”


He rolled onto his side, his stomach tensed, then folded into the frontal position, and raised both arms, wrapping them around his head, crying his eyes out. His friends looked on with a mixture of concern and embarrassment.
Aaron said, “Oh shit, what do you do it again for Zack? You could see he was already upset!”
“Yeah dude,” Brandon added, “you go too fucking far sometimes.”

Zack remained silent. He hadn’t expected Ron’s reaction, and now that the guys were having a dig at him, he was feeling pretty embarrassed, and his face flushed.
Aaron went over to Ron and crouched by him. He put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.
“Hey dude. Ron, are you okay?”

Ron was sobbing his heart out. His nuts hurt like he’d been kicked, and the base of his dick was aching fiercely. But it was his ego that had taken the most damage.
“I feel like such a fucking loser. It’s bad enough everyone seeing my boner. You know me – I’m kinda shy – but making me jizz any time you like just to burn me. How can I ever look anyone in the face again?”
Aaron tried to console him,

“Ron, it wasn’t your fault dude. It was a stupid joke, and it just went way too far.” He looked pointedly at Zack. “We should have stopped Zack after the first time, but we never realized how bad it was making you feel.”
“You guys are supposed to be my friends,” Ron moaned. His voice rose in pitch to a barely comprehensible falsetto through his sobbing. “Now I feel so fucking humiliated.”
Brandon had come over and joined them, and he was crouching in front of Ron’s face.

“Hey Ron, I’m so sorry man. We’re the ones that should be humiliated. I can’t believe we let it go that far and we never saw what it was doing to you. Dude, we’re such douche bags.”
Ron looked at him through teary, distressed eyes. Pointing towards Ron’s butt, Brandon said, “Hey dude, let’s get that fucking thing out of you huh?”
Ron gave a small nod.

“Here, give me the remote, I’ll turn it off,” Brandon said. Ron’s eye’s widened and he clutched the remote more tightly.
Brandon said, “Hey Ron, no problem. I don’t blame you dude. You do it then okay?” He turned to Zack and said, “Zack, what does he have to press to turn this thing off?”

Zack was watching with a look of deep consternation on his face. His objective had been to embarrass his friend, not to destroy him. He said, “Press the red button to make his boner go, then press the middle button to unlock it. Wait a couple of seconds, then you can pull it out.”
Brandon turned back to Ron – did you get that Ron?” he asked. Ron nodded, and carefully shielding the remote from any potential attempt to snatch it from him, he pressed the red button, then the middle one. He immediately felt the rubber rings contracting, freeing him to remove the device. He reached behind himself and gingerly retracted it a little.

When it was clear that he could do so safely, he pulled it all the way out, and hurled it across the room angrily, then he rose to his feet, dropped the remote to the floor, and stomped on it repeatedly until it was smashed, his erection still bouncing in front of him. As he stomped, he cursed at it with genuine vitriol.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you. Fucking, fucking, fucking stupid thing. I fucking hate you.”
The guys all watched in amazement. Although Ron was destroying an expensive piece of equipment, Zack didn’t dare to say anything because he knew that really he was the one that really deserved Ron’s anger. As Ron finished stomping, he suddenly seemed to become aware of his nudity. He covered himself with his hands.

Max looked at the wreckage of the remote, and with a wry laugh he said, “Oh crap Ron, I think you killed it. Look, you smashed the shit out of it!”
Ron stood looking down at the remote angrily, tears still in his eyes.

Looking up from where he was still crouched, Aaron said, “Dude, I don’t think you need to worry about that any more. It’s about as smashed as it could get, unless you run it through the garbage disposal.” He paused, then with a wry grin he said, “We could take it downstairs and run it through the garbage disposal if that would make you feel better?”

Ron looked at him, and a smirk forced its way onto his face.
“Nah, I don’t think I need to go that far. Mother fucking thing is dead.” He turned to Zack.
“I hope it costs you a year’s allowance you tight asshole.”

Zack looked thoroughly contrite.
“Dude, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so totally an asshole.”
“Fucking totally,” Ron agreed.

Zack turned and picked up Ron’s boxers, and handed them to him. Ron took them from him, and pulled them on immediately, mindless of the slime that still coated the inside.
“How long this going to last?” he demanded, pointing at the outline of his undiminished boner in his shorts.

“I don’t know dude.” Zack admitted.
“Well it better go soon, or I’m fucking you with it,” Ron said.

Pages : 1 | 2
Post your review/reply.
Allow us to process your personal data?
Hop to: