Twink Van Pt. 02

His sobs peaked in time with each shock as the volley of four lit into him.

"You know what's coming next now, don't you?" she asked, one hand on a dial and the other on the rod.

This time the electrodes on his nipples and cock came to life first, the steady current powerful enough to hurt but just low enough that the pain didn't overwhelm the sensation. He felt a sucking sensation as the tube on his shaft came to life and then five sharp shocks to his prostate, each one more powerful than the last.

He dry-heaved as the smelling salts hit his nose. Doctor Rose still wasn't looking at him. Instead, she unclipped something at the end of the latex tube, and held aloft a vial of fresh semen.

"You don't need to worry about drinking this, it's far too valuable to waste on you," she said, tucking the vial away in a white plastic box. "But we still need something to occupy that mouth of yours, don't we?"

Sasha felt drained in every sense of the word. His body and vision quivered and he was too tired to cry. He couldn't understand why his ass still gripped the rod so tightly, the mirror-smooth steel feeling like sandpaper as Doctor Rose pulled it out. He held in the metal ball with more strength then he thought he had left in him, and gave a weak gasp as it popped out. He found that he still had tears left in him as she pushed the rod in his mouth and wiped the metal ball on his tongue.

It tasted of unpleasant, synthetic lube with something salty underneath, and though he had been thoroughly cleaned he still picked up the faintest smell of raw sewage. She turned and twisted the rod in his mouth and over his tongue until every spot was licked clean before putting it in the sink. Then, she fed him a tablespoon of foul-tasting medicine. Despite the bitterness, his stomach settled and the feeling of imminent sickness he'd had ever since getting off the van began to fade.

"The anti-emetic will help with the nausea and the antibiotics will compensate for your lapses in hygiene," said Doctor Rose as she prepared her next bizarre device. "You've been given your first hormone, vitamin and nootropic injections, you've been cleaned out, and your milking capabilities have been tested. I'm keeping you under observation for the next four hours to ensure there are no negative reactions to your treatment. While you wait you'll be trying out the other part of your new role, extraction from others. I don't think it's the role Jane has in mind for you, but if you become incapable of producing semen this option is always available."

Sasha's mind conjured and failed to banish images of what "extraction from others" might mean, especially bound in place as he was. His fears became far more immediate as the doctor approached him with a set of tubes and a strange soft plastic object covered in valves and openings. First the tubes were fed into his nose, and then the device was shoved into the back of his mouth. He choked and thrashed as it cut off his air, blocking off his windpipe while one end slipped down his gullet.

Then, he could breathe again. Not through his mouth - the thing in the back of his throat was still blocking it - but he could breathe just fine through his nose. There were tears in his eyes and he still felt like he was gagging on something, but he had no urge to be sick. The doctor continued to fiddle inside his mouth, checking the attachments on all the tubing and clipping the throat device to the inside of his spreader gag to keep everything in place. She ran a finger over his nose, the tubes now only jutting a millimetre out of his nostrils.

"That was a naso-tracheal bypass device. As long as your nostrils are not obstructed you'll be able to breathe. This will stop you from choking on vomit, or anything else."

She took a cube-shaped metal frame and fit it over his head, loosening the chair restraints to put it on and connecting special attachments on the frame to the exterior of his spreader gag. The position forced his head back as if he was standing upright and looking upward, and if there had been a solid panel at the top of the cube, his mouth would have been flush with it.

"And now for the reservoir..." she murmured. Sasha caught a glimpse of the latex bag before it was pushed into his mouth. It resembled an unrolled condom that flared out like a deflated balloon at the tip. The opening locked into the device at the back of his mouth, and the doctor used two fingers to push the tube into his throat. His esophageal muscles finished the job, swallowing down the rest until the latex tube lined his gullet and the bag at the tip was in his stomach.

With several clicks the wheels on the bottom of his examination table were unlocked, and the doctor wheeled him towards a wall. There was the sound of a metal hatch opening, and then the thump of bass from a nightclub. She pushed the table forward, the frame around Sasha's head sliding into the hatch so smoothly it was as if it had been cut out from the wall with a laser.

The thump of the bass intensified as his head passed through the hatch. It was not so loud he could not hear latches locking into place on the other side. He was in a small, dark room, like a booth or a closet, with a dull red light coming from somewhere on the ceiling just out of his view.

Looking around was disorienting, between the dimness of the room and the upside-down position of his head. In his periphery he could see an airplane-seat style flip-down table jutting out of the wall. More concerningly, there were shapes jutting out either side of his head that looked an awful lot like handlebars.

The bassline drowned out his senses as the door swung open, and quieted as it swung closed behind the person who had just entered.

"Glahh," said Sasha.

Even from his upside-down perspective he could see the size of this man, who must have outweighed him by seven stone in bone and muscle alone. He wore a dark shirt and looked as if he'd been squeezed into his jeans. Sasha couldn't see the man's shoes or face, both were just blurs at the edge of his vision. He was carrying a half-full pint glass which he set down on the folding table, and then he stuck his fingers in Sasha's mouth.

As he tasted salt and spilled beer on the man's thumb, all thoughts in Sasha's mind coalesced to a tiny ball of terror, and any faint hope of rescue by this stranger disappeared. The man took his time, pinching Sasha's tongue, prodding inside his cheeks and gums, caressing his smooth-shaven face. Then, he unbuckled his belt.

"Gylaahhh!"

The man's cock was huge, at least eight inches and thick as a plum. It glistened with sweat, and as he peeled back his foreskin Sasha was hit with the smell of a man who had been sweating all day and hadn't showered since the morning. It was inches away and he could feel the heat radiating off it. A thick bead of precum welled up at the tip as the man stroked it to full hardness.

"Glah-gllmphh!"

Sasha barely registered the salty taste of sweat as the cock filled his mouth. His cheeks bulged out and a line of saliva ran down his face and into his eye. He writhed in his bonds as the pressure at the back of his throat made him dry-heave. The man stroked his cock and the taste of salt and musk intensified; Sasha dimly realized he was being fed more precum.

The man grabbed the handlebars, gripped tight, and pushed. Sasha felt as if his Adam's Apple would be split open from inside and he braced to have his air cut off, but the device in his mouth worked as intended. Even when seven inches were deep in his gullet and the hairs on the man's balls tickled his nose, he could still breathe. Then the man pushed his eighth inch inside, and somehow an inch more.

The man's balls molded over Sasha's nose, smothering him. He couldn't breathe, not a single gasp, as if a plastic bag had been pulled tight over his face, and the man wasn't moving. For a moment he wondered if they would go through all this just to let him die but as the lack of air bit at his lungs, an animal panic consumed his mind. He thrashed what little he could, tendons on his neck straining as he moved his head a millimetre left and right, hips jutting up off the gynecologist's table, fingers flexing out and scratching for purchase that wasn't there. Unseen hands strengthened his bonds, taping his fingers into fists, strapping down his hips, and tying his insteps flat against splints.

Moments before the darkness at the edge of his vision crawled into the center, the man pulled out two inches. Sasha inhaled desperately, taking a second, third and fourth lungful of air before willing himself to calm down. The man thrust back in, to Sasha's despair, but withdrew after a second, pulling all the way out and using the spit-shined tip of his cock to wipe slobber all over the young man's face. He then pushed back inside and began to fuck his throat.

This went on for what felt like hours. Sasha wished he could do something, anything to hurry the man up as the cock pushed in and out, and sweaty, hairy balls suffocated him with every thrust. He began to panic when the man didn't pull out of a deep thrust, so the twitching shaft and grunts from above were a deep relief as the man climaxed.

The man pulled out to shoot a rope into Sasha's mouth, squeezing the last droplets out directly on his tongue. The cum was thick and bitter, and with his mouth forced open Sasha could not easily swallow or spit it out. Some dripped down his face and cheeks, some went down the latex tube in his throat, but he had no choice but to let his tongue and teeth marinate in the rest of it.

After buttoning his fly and picking up his now-empty beer glass, the man left. The door didn't even shut before the next one walked in.

It was hard for Sasha to see from the spit and cum that had run down into his eyes, but he heard the clunk of a new beer glass on the table followed by a fly unzipping. This one began by slipping his balls between his lips.

Sasha's stomach turned. He was no priss, but he'd made more than one hookup pause to take a shower before sucking their dick, and the smell of balls was... well, at the best of times he didn't mind it. This man had not stopped to take a shower and it was not the best of times. An overwhelming smell of musk, sweat, and dried piss wafted from his crotch. The cum in Sasha's mouth and the residue of ball-sweat from the previous man did not help matters either. He froze as he tried to process what was being done to him.

The new man apparently took that as a sign of recalcitrance, reaching down to pinch Sasha's nose shut. Only after several seconds of frantic licking did he release his grip, sighing with pleasure as his balls received a tongue bath. A few minutes later he pulled his balls out and thrust his cock in. Tears welled up in Sasha's eyes as he was throatfucked for the second time that night. This man came faster than the first one, though he pulled out until only the head of his cock was in Sasha's mouth as he fired his load. The pressure forced most of it down his throat, but a big splash ran down his face as the man pulled out.

There was no break when this man left either, the third man walking in with his half-hard cock already dangling out of his jeans. He used the tip to wipe up the spit and cum on Sasha's face and fed it to him, then fucked his mouth and came deep inside his throat. The fourth man spat in his face after finishing.

All the men after that were a blur that he could only remember in flashes. The taste of blood where a hard thrust had split his bottom lip. The dark-skinned man who left the tip of his cock in Sasha's mouth to be lapped at and came with no warning whatsoever. The men that came in as a pair. The one who wore so much aftershave that the smell of sweaty crotches was almost preferable. Each one fucking his throat for what felt like forever, each one using him as a cum-dump.

He didn't even remember being removed from the room, only being back in the surgery, looking forward with his head-cage removed. Jane and Doctor Rose stood either side of him.

"-passed out in three hours, I honestly expected worse from him. Have you thought of handing him off to Elodie? I'm sure he'd love that."

"Huh, maybe, after he's all dried up from the van. And only if he behaves himself."

"And if he doesn't behave himself? Give him to Charlotte?"

"If he's a naughty boy I was gonna give him to you, honestly."

"Hah!" Doctor Rose turned her head and looked at Sasha, his eyes blinking open under the crust of spit and cum. "Oh, look who decided to join us, isn't that nice?" she sneered. "Let's see how you performed, then."

She pulled on a pair of latex gloves with a snap, reached into his mouth, and detached the device at the back of his throat. Sasha's eyes went wide as his airway was cut off but she ignored him, first pulling out the block, then pulling out the latex tube behind it, inch-by-inch until the balloon-shaped bag popped into, and then out of his mouth. He stared at it as he lay there gasping, it was filled with an off-white fluid. The doctor squeezed the contents out into a measuring flask.

"Four-thirty, no, four-hundred-and-forty-five millilitres. Not a bad haul, don't you think?" she said.

Jane whistled, impressed. "Your guests are as enthusiastic as always, huh?" She walked over to Sasha and patted his sweat-matted hair. "You did a really good job, honey, I'm so proud of you. You must be feeling tired."

It wasn't a question, but Sasha nodded anyway.

He felt the prick of a needle in his arm and the cold fuzz of anaesthetic in his blood. The last things he saw as the world turned white were the doctor's smirk and Jane's warm smile, and he didn't know which one he found more terrifying.