The Milking Room

A tight, toned redhead banged on their bars after breakfast on the third day after their arrival. "Okay, you pieces of shit, your turn." The cell door unlocked and slid open. "Strip and get moving ladies. We're going to the milking room!" she drawled.

Zach and Rodriguez peeled out of their clothing and walked out of their cells, two more guards bringing up the rear. They had shaved the night before and one of the screws inspected their manhood to make sure. Rodriguez looked as unaffected and disinterested by the whole procedure as was possible while the other inmates still in their cells hooted and pointed at them.

"Hard yet?" one of them called to Zach.

Another answered, "He ain't even made it to the milking room! He already done cum. Whip his ass, boss lady!"

"I heard him bust a nut shaving! She gonna cut it off this time!"

Humiliation didn't begin to describe what Zach felt.

Finally, they got to the end of the cell block and went through a door and then another door which led to a corridor barely wider than his shoulders. Moans of pleasure or pain--Zach didn't know which--came from the light at the other end. The lead guard stepped aside and shoved Rodriguez through and the other guard followed.

"What the fuck is this, bitch?" Rodriguez said from the other end. Zach heard a meaty thud and Rodriguez cried out. He heard the sounds of metal clanging and the rip of Velcro and in a few seconds, she heard him gasp.

Zach was terrified now as the lead guard shoved him down the corridor to his fate. He wanted to run but there was nowhere to go, the only escape blocked by the guard behind him who had no shortage of means to incapacitate him. Ahead of him was something that looked like a cot turned on its end. Thick material was stretched across a frame a bit taller than Zach. Wide straps dangled from the sides. He saw a hole at head height and another smaller one at waist level.

He wanted to cry--did cry as he was shoved roughly against the thick webbing. Zach felt the straps pulled around his shoulders, his lower back, and above his knees. He was locked into a frame, unable to move in any direction, his arms pinned at his sides. The holes in the webbing allowed him to poke his head through. What he saw on the other side caused him to moan in fear as the entire frame moved to the tilted forward. He quivered violently and was vaguely aware of another inmate being strapped in beside him.

Now he could see into the room beyond. It was round and ringed with other prisoners similarly secured. Some were quivering, others moaning. Some had their eyes shut, some of their mouths gaped open, working like a fish out of water. He watched as a muscular black guard moved to one of the prisoners, gripped his penis with one hand, and proceeded to swab some sort of clear, thin jelly-like substance up and down his flaccid length. Zach smelled a faint chemical aroma and figured this was some sort of disinfectant. The guard picked up something that looked like a black sock. Both ends appeared to be open, small wires leading from the material. The guard slipped the sock-like sleeve over the fingers of one hand, reached and pinched the head of the prisoner's penis in her fingers then slid the sock over his length with the other hand leaving him encased in the material from almost the base of his shaft to just below the head. Then, she slid a clear, curved shield up and locked it in place in front of the prisoner's groin.

Zach cried out in shock as he felt his own penis gripped and stretched from his body. Another guard had him in her grip. He hadn't seen her coming and instinctively tried to pull himself out of the hole in the webbing but the straps across his legs and back held him fast. As the cool disinfectant was swabbed onto him Zach began to sob. He was more scared and confused than the day he'd been processed into the Big House.

The guard pinched the head roughly and Zach frantically tried to get out of her grip, but before he knew it, she'd slid the sock-like thing down his length. Whatever it was hugged him firmly and Zach was reminded of the time he'd worn a wet-suit waterskiing a few years ago. Like the wetsuit, it didn't hurt but gripped him snugly. He watched the guard click the clear shield into place in front of him and felt light-headed. He forced himself to calm down to calm down in the face of the incipient hyperventilation creeping up on him.

"Dear god, what have I gotten myself into?" Zach sobbed softly.

At first, Zach thought one of the guards was tickling the bottom of his cock. He looked down and realized there was nothing down there, just the black sleeve holding him. The sensation built gradually and Zach realized it actually felt nice. He closed his eyes, not sure what to think of it so he thought nothing for a long moment. The tickle turned into a tingle that felt to him like a million tiny fingers dancing on his manhood. It was almost the same sensation as his arm might have if he'd slept on it, except without the discomfort.

As the sensation intensified, Zach felt himself respond. Whatever they were doing to him was giving him an erection. He felt he couldn't have willed himself to do otherwise if someone had held a gun to his head. Inexorably he swelled as the sensation intensified even further and now he realized why most of the other inmates were moaning and writhing.

He thought at some point, as he became increasingly more turgid, that the sock would begin to get too tight but he soon found as he continued to increase in girth that the special weave in the material allowed it to expand as the flesh within swelled.

The tingling continued to build and Zach's head lolled back. He was completely erect now, throbbing within the sleeve surrounding him. He moaned as the sensation changed to more rapid and intense tingling and Zach felt his cock dance. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

"Oh fuck!" he gasped. He had now joined the chorus of sounds of pleasure in the room, his hips thrusting against nothing. It wouldn't be long before he came if the sensation continued. The tingling slowed, became less intense, then rapidly sped up again with its intensity increasing and it felt to Zach almost as if his penis were sliding in and out of the tiny fingers. He looked down at his cock which curved to the ceiling and spasmed once deep in his groin, a drop of clear fluid forming at the tip. The sensation continued to cycle up and down and the urge to thrust was overwhelming. He succumbed to the urge, thrusting as much as the frame and webbing would allow.

Zachary was not gay and had never allowed himself to be taken by any other of the inmates at his home prison. Nevertheless, he watched as Rodriguez's cock ejected a stream of semen which splattered against the shield and dribbled down to a funnel-like section that collected it. Now he knew what the clear, curved shield in front of him was for. Zach was close to that point himself in his own private ecstasy but vaguely aware that a couple of inmates were being released from the contraption by the guards and allowed off the frames.

The urge to orgasm was building mercilessly and Zach felt his testicles tighten. He whimpered with pleasure, his cock dancing to the sensation surrounding it. Soon he was so close to the edge he felt as if his cock would explode if he didn't cum within the next few seconds. His balls were a knot now and the pleasurable sensation of pressure deep in his groin built signaling the beginning of his climax.

Then, right as he came to the edge of orgasm, the tingling sensation ceased.

"Fuck!" he cried in frustration. He had not masturbated for a week before he came here and the additional three days after that. Zach needed--had--to cum or something would burst. He looked down at his erection waving helplessly, a string of clear pre-cum leaking out now.

"Oh, looks like the feedback system is working well on this one," the black female guard said smiling at him as she leaned against the wall nearby. The short guard that had put the sleeve on him came over and stood in front of him.

"What are you doing to me?" Zach gasped. "Please turn it back on. I was so fucking close!"

"We are not doing it to you," the black guard said. Her name tag said, Harris. "The system is."

"What are you talking about?"

"The milking frame you're in is loaded with sensors," the short guard, Jenkins, said. "So is the sleeve I put on your dick. They measure things like muscle tension, skin moisture, heart rate, breathing, a few other things too, like--" She searched for the word a moment then smiled as she said it. "Tumescence."

"Why?" Zach was still raging hard and willing with all his might for the stimulation to resume.

"So the system will know when you're about to bust a nut," Harris grinned. "In that way, it knows when to stop when to start and what sort of stimulation to use."

"But I don't want it to stop. I was about to cum!" Zach cried.

Jenkins beamed. "It won't start back until your little dick becomes a little less--excited."

"What about Rodriguez?" Zach whined. "He already blew his load!"

"We're having problems with that particular frame," Jenkins replied. "It so happens you got one that was working as it should. The sensors go to hell quicker than maintenance can fix them what with all the thrashing you fuckers do on these things."

Zach was vaguely aware he wasn't as turgid as before, the urge to ejaculate gone now. The tingling resumed and immediately he grew to full erection again.

"There it goes," Harris sang and nodded for Jenkins to get back to work.

The contraption brought Zach to the edge and back four times. His body quivered near the end, his balls aching and swollen, the pain of the persistent arousal boring deep into his groin. When he neared the edge the last time, the sensation continued then increased and he felt himself go rigid from head to toe, his back arching as far as the straps would allow.

Zach's orgasm was the most intense, violent climax he had ever experienced in his life. He felt his semen first pour then erupt in frantic jets and heard it splattering the shield. At the edge of his awareness, he heard Harris say something and Jenkins guffawing loudly in response. He felt the odd sensation of draining in his groin as his seminal vesicles disgorged their store of fluid.

Sweating and gasping, he looked down at himself. His erection was subsiding, his balls aching dully, his relief total. The pearlescent sheet of cum that coated the shield was draining in translucent rivulets down its surface and collecting at the bottom somewhere. It was finally over and he just wanted to collapse and sleep.

His captors, however, had other ideas. Before his erection could subside, the tingling began again. He looked around and noticed Rodriguez was still strapped to his frame. Zach had seen him ejaculate already but he was erect, his penis bouncing to the electrical rhythm coursing through his flesh.

"You didn't know?" Jenkins said.

"Know what?" Zach managed. His mouth was dry.

"You get drained twice per session."

Complaining would do no good. As exhausted and spent as he was, the sleeve around him resumed stimulating him, building it slowly until he was erect again.

The second time around the stimulation was more intense than the first, probably to compensate for the reduced response in a post-orgasmic penis. The one good thing though, was the whole ordeal did not last as long as the first. The system peaked him only twice but when he climaxed it was oddly more sensual than the first time. The semen he produced was scant and watery but enough to splatter and drip down the shield to collect with his first load.

This time, the milking frame leaned backward and a guard behind him unstrapped him from the frame. He almost collapsed in her arms, his flaccid penis dripping on the concrete and leaving a single dark spot.

"Whoa there, homie," the guard said pushing him against the wall. "Just stand right there and get it together."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he told the thickly built blonde.

"The first time is always the hardest."

"I-I don't think I can go through that again," Zach gasped. His cock tingled numbly. It felt as if it were detached from his body.

"You'll be good as new in a few days," she said. "But you can get out if you want. Go right back home, finish out your time. Of course, you'll still have your felony record."

Shit! That was the whole point of volunteering for this. Zach knew he would be forever handicapped in the employment market carrying a felony. But six months of this? Could he do six months of this?

He found his strength again and stood. The guard clasped him on the shoulder and guided him in front of her, one hand on her stun gun. Zach ignored the jeers and taunting as he went by the cells back to his own. He was utterly spent and before the cell door clanged shut, asleep in his bunk.

Life at the StarCo facility turned out to not be as bad as Zach thought it would be. There were few really hardened criminals here because Starla only accepted non-violent offenders with relatively short sentences. Most of them were young and Zach estimated a majority were in their early twenties. They talked tough but most were all bluster.

Chow was better than in the regular prison and the inmates spent all but six hours in the common area or outside. There was plenty of television to watch, DVD movies, and streaming video. Books, too. The only thing that the facility failed to accommodate was visitation. But it was only a six-month stretch and whatever the place lacked was tolerable given that any of the guys who pulled the entire six months would be free and cleared of their records.

Zach, like most guys here, was taken to be harvested about once a week. He had found himself looking forward to it. Many times, he found himself thinking of Miss Starla, herself. He'd only laid eyes on her that one time. She'd punished him for his arousal and for some reason Zach found her minor abuse of his manhood arousing. It was she he thought of on the way to the milking room. By the time he was strapped into the milking frame, he was fully erect and accepted the sleeve on his aching member eagerly.