semen extraction

“Ok let me take over,” Grier said to Nurse Lopez, none too politely.

“You know what you’re doing,” Dr. Chatterjee said with a shrug.

The very pregnant Grier lumbered to the back of the stage. Bending over with difficulty, with a turn of the knob she withdrew the rear dildo all the way —though not quite. She left an inch in, resting uneasily in the middle of the boy’s anal muscles, which created an intense visceral desire to “poop it out”, a desire that was frustrated since human muscles cannot push against securely supported metal. This very uncomfortable sensation woke the boy up and he grunted loudly, like a constipated person straining at the bowels. Now with another turn of the knob she increased the speed of the rubbing sleeve.

With strong and expert fingers she pressed on his perineum, causing the penis to bloat in size, which in turn made the sleeve tighter and intensified the friction. She did this three or four more times, and they saw his penis bloat, subside to its “regular” erection (big as that was), then bloat, subside . . . She turned the knob again, causing the dildo to finally exit the sphincter, then before the anus closed she slipped in three fingers.

It was more art than science, the way she rubbed and massaged and poked and prodded inside Kai-Kai, the seminal vesicles, the prostate, the base of the penis. It could not be seen but working within Kai-Kai she was virtuosic, knowing what to rub, what to squeeze, in what sequence. It was assumed that in Brooklyn she knew a lot of gay men who had a wealth of relevant knowledge.

It only took a couple of minutes. “Ohh —” Kai-Kai’s eyes opened once as he crested, then closed again. “Ohh —ohh —ohh —ohh —” His moans were rhythmic as Grier’s unseen fingers pushed the semen out of him with a pumping motion, his pelvis lurching forward every time she pushed. Kai-Kai’s seventh ejaculation of the morning was not like the others. The semen was not being forcefully ejected, but rather squeezed out, like toothpaste out of a tube. Much of the load was seminal vesicle fluid, as they could tell by its thickness. Grier got only five full squirts out of him, but they were huge gushes. A couple of lesser squirts followed. Then she withdrew her fingers and went to the sink.

The boy’s head fell forward as they read the output. 14 cc’s, an amazing amount, this time achieved by actually grabbing the glands and squeezing them empty, instead of eliciting their voluntary response via external stimulation. The testicles had very little left to contribute; the sperm count was only 15 million per cc, which was at the low end of normal. Nurse Lopez stopped the sleeve and withdrew the apparatus to check the Sire’s penis. It was a little reddened but in good shape, though for the first time today, it was totally flaccid.

“14 cc’s,” Dr. Chatterjee said. “Congratulations, Ms. McDonald, an excellent effort.” As if Kai-Kai himself had no role in it.

“What can I say? I’m the best,” Grier said. She took a cigarette from her pocket and put it in her mouth. Of course she had no intention of lighting up. It was just a Goth thing to do.

They turned with alarm and looked up at the boy up on his perch, his head down. He seemed to be choking. Nurse Lopez came up to him.

“Nurse, what is wrong?” Dr. Chatterjee said, following behind her.

“He —seems to be —saying something,” the nurse said.

“What?”

Some more soft choking sounds. His head was still dropped forward, his eyes closed. His body hung limply from the T-bar and sagged on the thigh pads. They all leaned forward to hear.

Finally the Nurse turned to face them. “He said, ‘Good job’.”