An Accidental Fantasy

This story is a medical Science Fiction story. Current medical technology is, as far as I am aware, incapable of producing these results; unfortunately!

After some weeks of discomfort in the cock and balls department I went to see my doctor. At first he thought my problem was ED, after all I'm seventy something, and have had other medical problems.

I had to explain to him that erections were not the problem, ok so they are not the barge pole affairs of my youth, but still firm enough to penetrate a willing vagina. The real problem was that I couldn't cum. I could indulge in all my favourite sex acts, for as long as I liked and, although extremely pleasant, they never produced an orgasm.

At first my partner found this quite amusing and something of a challenge. She tried every trick in the book to get me to cum, even some quite unusual ones, but that's another story.

Eventually, as this condition was becoming quite uncomfortable, I was referred to Professor Jenkinson, who was conducting research into unusual genitourinary phenomena. He spotted the problem quite quickly, and offered to try to treat me, on condition that his students could attend in order to learn about this extremely rare condition.

Thus it was that I found myself naked and immobilised on a sort of comfortable operating table, surrounded by some very high tech equipment, a five foot high TV screen, and two other research doctors.

What I was not expecting was the five pretty young nurses, all scurrying about in various attendance roles, and to be in the centre of a very steeply tiered lecture theatre, with several dozen young student doctors gazing down.

There was a time when I would have found the situation mortally embarrassing, but once I got used to the thought that this whole team's sole objective was to make me cum, I just found it somewhat bizarre.

Professor Jenkinson, clearly the leader of the team, a man in his late fifties with greying temples and a very commanding manner, started his introduction.

"Today we have patient X, he is suffering from hyperorchid obstructive syndrome, which means that, irrespective of the amount of physical genital stimulation he receives, he is unable to experience orgasm and therefore unable to ejaculate.

"Dr. Deacon will now describe the physical symptoms that you as doctors will be able to notice, when a patient presents."

Dr Deacon was a short fair haired young man in his thirties with a very young face that sported a short beard, probably to make him look slightly less youthful.

"Patient X presented with the inability to ejaculate in spite of prolonged and erotic sexual stimulation. His penis has clearly shrunk, as the foreskin now hangs over his glans by an unusually large amount, probably due to reduced blood supply. His testicles appear swollen, and the scrotum appears somewhat shrunken and unusually tight."

"Thank you Dr Deacon."

"Now Dr. Phelps, for the benefit of our students, what is the prognosis for a patient with hyperorchid obstructive syndrome."

Dr Phelps was a striking woman in her forties, I'd guess. I couldn't help notice that she had maintained an athletic figure and, although dressed in those shapeless coats that doctors wear, I imagined she had a shapely bum and a fine pair of rather luscious, self supporting tits. The whole ensemble was topped off by a dark bob haircut and a pair of red square framed glasses that gave her a rather school teachery look. She started.

"Unless we can get him to ejaculate, by non physical means, the fluid build up in the seminal vesicles, prostate and testes, due to prolonged sexual stimulation, will eventually cause permanent damage to the nerves responsible for his erectile function."

Professor Jenkinson interjected.

"So again for the benefit of the students, why must it be by non physical means?"

Dr. Phelps continued.

"Because, at the moment, there appears to be some neurological reason why signals from his genitals to his brain are insufficient to induce orgasm. Continued use of genital stimulation will only reinforce this blockage. The solution is to start at the other end. Stimulate the brain directly, sufficient to produce an orgasm."

"So, students," continued the professor, "this is exactly what we are going to attempt to do today with the help of this equipment. We are going to stimulate his brain, specifically the part that stores memories. Memories of his most erotic experiences and indeed his fantasies.

"We will have to delve back in time to his earliest sexual memories, move forwards to more recent and more stimulating events. Remember patient X is a seventy four year old male with considerable sexual experience. The sight of a breast, no matter how young and desirable, is hardly going to produce the same result as it did in his late teens.

"If patient X was, say twenty, our task would be relatively easy. I suspect we could stimulate orgasm simply by getting his brain to relive his first experience of, say fellatio, or perhaps his first ever penetration.

"However, patient X is no teenager, and we shall have to dig deeper, much deeper. We will start with his earliest sexual experiences and move closer to the present day. It is important to point out that we are stimulating the brain artificially, and may well trigger fantasies as well as memories, there is no way of distinguishing between the two.

"It is also true that the stimulation may even create a new fantasy, that even he is unaware of. This could be extremely useful as if it is his fantasy, and one that he hasn't had yet, it is bound to be extremely stimulating. With luck it would produce erection and orgasm relatively easily.

"These computers will analyse the electrical impulses from his brain. He will be experiencing his memories and or fantasies, as if they were actually happening now, and we can monitor his reaction as well as see exactly what he is experiencing, through his own eyes, on the large screen behind me.

"I have to advise you that the images are likely to be quite graphic. There is no 9 o'clock watershed here, and we are delving into a human mind for its most erotic memories and its wildest sexual fantasies. Don't judge patient X, he probably isn't even aware of some of the fantasies himself.

"He will remain conscious throughout, for obvious reasons, so please be quiet so as not to distract him. Dr. Phelps perhaps you would like to continue."

She started to explain.

"The electrodes on his head are spaced according to the Franklin distribution, and the reason he has electrodes on his nipples is that if we receive electrical messages from there it may well indicate a certain level of sexual arousal.

"He will see and experience what we see on the screen. It is important to note that he will not just be seeing what we see, he will be feeling it, touching it, tasting it, and smelling it, and we will see it all through his eyes exactly as he is experiencing it.

"We can observe his response because it will feel to him as if it is actually happening, and we will know when we are on the right track by his response. The first obvious sign is when we can stimulate an erection, followed by all the usual phases of arousal such as penis twitching and cowper's fluid emission. Some of you students, who have not yet completed section 2 of the course, may be unfamiliar with the term and probably know Cowpers better by its street name, precum.

"Once we manage to stimulate cowper's fluid emission, then we will look for testicular retraction as his testes prepare to deliver the sperm. Once that happens we will know he's about to ejaculate, although it is important to note that not all men experience this phase. We can expect his penis to twitch and jerk quite erratically as ejaculation takes place because it is obviously not constrained by the walls of a vaginal canal."

Professor Jenkinson again,

"Thank you Dr. Phelps. Just before we start, you will notice that, unusually, there was a seating plan when you arrived. The sharp eyed among you will notice that you are seated close to several people of the opposite sex. Your secondary task is to observe and note your neighbour's response to the proceedings.

"Please note any changes in their level of agitation, discomfort, embarrassment, arousal etc. and what images or sounds produced those effects. This way no one needs to hide their natural response to the doubtless considerable sexual stimuli, you can simply call it research!

"You will find your notes most useful in your psychology unit next week! Let's make a start. Dr Phelps over to you."

My vision started to blur and I felt I was looking through a light purple fog. Apparently the giant screen did exactly the same and from here on the screen portrayed exactly what I was experiencing.

Gradually the mist revealed a young breast and a hand. My hand! Memories flooded back, Emily! Emily's was the first breast I ever held. It was so soft, warm and inviting with such a stiff little nipple.

What I wasn't prepared for was the sensation in my right hand. I actually felt that pert little nipple and the glorious warmth of her breast. A fabulous memory that I had all but forgotten.

A distant voice said, "Increase the Q 5% please."

The purple fog returned, then cleared again slowly. A jumble of out of focus white fibres appeared. As focus returned I felt my hand sliding under the fibres, the fibres of Emily's white cotton panties. My hand encountered some coarseness and I felt my fingers delving through her luxuriant pubic hair, followed by the gorgeous slippery sensation as my finger slid into a sexually excited woman for the first time.

There was a mumble in the distance about increasing some level or other. This was swiftly followed by lots of images of beautiful memories as we shot forwards in time. I was aware of the eroticism, I remembered it well, but it was not the fuel that my erection needed.

There were countless images of long forgotten girl friends, some in erotic situations, others much more mundane. Girls bottoms on bicycle saddles featured prominently, as I remembered lusting after the girls at the cycling club, and one memorable encounter with Christeen, who seduced me, not that I took much persuasion.

She said she thought she had a puncture and asked me to help. As soon as we entered the bike shed she leapt at me, glued her mouth to mine and started to fondle my balls while she rubbed her not inconsiderable breasts on my chest

"Are you a virgin?" She enquired, though for what reason I know not. When I confirmed that I was, she lifted her top over her head in one swift movement, exposing her breasts and said, "Well I'm not, and you not going to be for long!" She was right.

There was a fumble as our shorts came off, a frantic scramble to get my cock in her eager cunt, and a few thrusts later, hop, hop, hop, all over with cum everywhere. "Fucking a virgin is such fun, they cum so hard and so quick." She announced as she borrowed my hanky to remove the evidence from between her legs and told me to put it under my pillow before my next wank. Talk about forward.

Next came my encounters with Bea. Bea refused to let me have sex with her, in spite of frequently letting my eager hand into her already damp knickers. She used to writhe about noisily on my inexpert fingers in the most erotic way, even guided my hand to her swelling clit, and let me suck on her prominent nipples, but no actual fucking. I was so surprised when she offered. "But I could give you a blow job!"

What's a hypersexedup lad to do: accept! It was immediately clear, even at my level of inexperience, that Bea knew how to give a blow job. Having prised my rampant cock from my jeans, she eased my foreskin right back to reveal the sensitive tip. Forming a perfect O with her moist lips, she sucked me into her warm mouth and right down her throat. Heaven!

The suction combined with the bobbing up and down of her head soon took me over the edge: I unloaded into her mouth with some enthusiasm. She looked up, smiled showing me the product of her handiwork, and swallowed the lot.

"You enjoyed that didn't you." She said, obviously rhetorically, "you deliver a mighty load of cum and you taste OK too." Darling Bea!

There followed a rapid sequence as, presumably, the Prof winched up one or other of his Qs or Rs or whatever. At one point I was strapped to a St Andrews Cross being caned by a dominatrix wearing high heels and a red cut away swim suit, always a favourite fantasy.

Then the woman, at the golf dinner, who just wanted a comfort shag, as long as it wasn't with her husband. I don't remember the exact sequence of events but, after a dance or two during which she rubbed her crotch against mine, she dragged me to the committee room, closed the door, lifted her flowing skirt and demanded to be fucked on the committee table.

When I protested that someone might come in she replied with, "I know, maybe even my husband! Exciting isn't it? So you'd better get on with it," and sprawled on her back on the table with her legs high in the air. "Well come on! You know you want to! Just fuck me!" She was right, it was very exciting, but I wasn't prepared for how noisy she got as she came. I had to hold my hand over her mouth to shush her.

My first three hander flashed up. Believe me, two women at the same time is better left as a fantasy. Trying to satisfy them both was nearly impossible, in spite of my best efforts. Much easier, as I learned soon after, for two men to pleasure the same woman.

And then suddenly, as a much denser purple haze clears, it is hot and humid. I am entering some sort of temple dressed in a flowing white silk robe, edged with purple, the colour reserved for royalty. I have no memory of this as even a fantasy.

It is the summer solstice and I have been selected to service the High Priestess, actually my sole function is to impregnate her, and I will have no control over the proceedings: none at all.

There is a large element of apprehension, as no male has ever emerged from the temple, ever, let alone after the impregnation ceremony. Is this to be my last sexual encounter, my last fuck, my last orgasm?

As I have no control, it is pointless to worry. If I tried to refuse this, the greatest honour for the entire nation, I would almost certainly meet a violent, painful, and very unpleasant end. Besides just because no male has ever returned does not mean he is killed, he might be retained as some sort of stud. One can only hope.

Five scantily clad maidens lead me into the humid atmosphere of the temple. I know they are maidens because the High Priestess is the only one in the temple allowed to mate and she must produce a child, a daughter, conceived on the solstice.

The maidens are all dressed alike. Silk tops that allowed their young breasts free movement below the sheer material, and show me glimpses of their erect nipples as they stroked the sheer fabric. They wear short white silk skirts edged in blue, and as they move about it becomes apparent that that is all they wear.

The room is exactly how I imagine a Turkish bath, lots of steam and a glorious aroma of eucalyptus. The maidens remove my robe and leave me standing naked, while their butterfly hands lightly spread an aromatic lotion over my entire body.

I am to have every hair on my body removed from the neck down. Apparently the High Priestess always has to be mated by a hairless male, but the reason why is never explained. There is a curious, but not at all unpleasant sensation as the lotion starts to dry on me, then suddenly a tingling feeling as it all sets to a sort of second skin.

The five maidens now set about pealing off this second skin. Strangely there is no sensation of pain or discomfort as they remove great sheets of it, taking all my body hair with it, just a glorious sensation of being more, much more, naked than I have ever been before.

I am now led into another chamber with a huge marble slab in its centre. Water is thrown over the slab and I am made to lie down on its cool surface. The attendants now discard their tops revealing five identical pairs of breasts, each pair fabulous, even perfect, not large, but with beautiful concave upper surfaces and outward pointing erect nipples.

Each of my extremities is now washed with enormous care. One starting on each hand, one on each foot, and one washes my hair then massages my scalp.

As they go about their task, with almost infinite care, I can't help but notice that the short silk skirts are all they are now wearing. I keep getting flashes of naked buttocks and completely hairless vulvas as they bend down for the soapy fluid they are using to wash me.

Eventually all attendants meet at my crotch, and my genitals are washed most carefully and attentively. We all know why I am here. I am here solely to impregnate the High Priestess, and the attendants responsibility is to make sure I have a really firm erection. Having my genitals washed, and even fondled, by five topless maidens, combined with the odd glimpse of their firm young buttocks and hairless vulvas was having the desired result. I am erect.

I am now oiled from head to toe, which makes my skin glow and my erection even stiffer in anticipation of the mating ritual to come.

When they are satisfied, I am commanded to stand, spread my legs slightly and lean forwards. I feel an unusual sensation as something is inserted into my rectum. It feels like a string of beads with each successive bead being slightly larger than its predecessor. The beads are clearly well lubricated, as I feel no discomfort, just the eroticism as they are pushed in, and something deep within me gets stimulated, probably for the first time.

While this was going on both my nipples are clamped lightly. Just enough to reduce the blood supply and send an erotic signal to my cock, but not enough to hurt.

I am now led to the Impregnating chamber and made to lie, face up on a table. The table is more of an altar really, draped in fine white linen with an oval hole in the middle and, once in position and comfortable, my legs and arms are bound to the table with red leather straps in such a way that I cannot move. I must present a bizarre sight, totally hairless, strapped to a table, small clamps on my nipples and one of the best, strongest, erections I can remember.

Gentle music plays, the lighting changes to a soft red colour, and a faint aroma of burning incense pervades the space. The hand maidens stand around me in a circle, perfect breasts still on display, while the High Priestess enters the chamber in a huge flowing purple silk robe.

She is somewhat more mature than the handmaidens with short dark hair and quite a masterful expression on her face, she doesn't look like someone who is in a hurry to have sex, but she knows it is her duty to try to conceive a daughter this solstice.

Her body is entirely concealed under the robe as she is helped onto the table, we are facing head to toe! She wafts the robe round us both so that we are enclosed in our own private space, and lowers her cunt onto my face.

I know my task is to bring her to orgasm, and that orgasm must happen just as I ejaculate deep inside her. I start to lick and kiss her hairless labia, stroking my tongue up and down her slit finishing with firm pressure on her clit. After a while her response becomes obvious. Her clit swells, leaves the sanctuary of its usual hiding place and her juices flow over my chin.

Now juicing freely, she discards the robe and, with help from the attendants, kneels astride my pelvis, facing me, with her legs spread wide. She takes my cock in one hand, pulls the foreskin right back and uses my glans to further stimulate her engorged clit.

In unison the attendants now start chanting. They take their left breast in their left hands and toy with their nipples, to bring them to erection, while their right hands lift the hem of their skirts and they insert their forefingers into the top of their sexes in search of their own pleasure buttons.