Then a sudden inspiration hit me. I started to write a comment on Fetlife, and the next thing I knew I had written out a semi-elaborate fantasy long enough even for a blog post. The group in question was for "chronic masturbators", but the post I wrote my comment on was about medical fantasies.
Since it's Christmas, I decided to post my little fantasy here, as well. I suppose the more proper place for it would have been my fiction blog, but I'll bend my own rues a bit this time. The story combines elements from my fantasies, as well as several stories I have either read or written, but was never able to finish. I hope you like it.
I'm a fan of medical fantasies. Hospitals seem to take away one's basic rights, and make you a part of a system, that has control over you and your bodily functions. When you're in a hospital, you're not a human being anymore, just a piece of flesh. It is not a small wonder nurses and doctors are a fetish for many.
In my fantasy I am admitted to a hospital, perhaps an infertility clinic. The female staff informs me, that as long as I'm there I am not to wear any clothing, or to appear outside my room other than on all fours. I am, for all intents and purposes, made a slave for the entire staff. I am being subjected to various humiliating procedures, the least of which is not being forced to give out the sperm samples regularly while being observed by a member of the female staff every time.
Imagining things like that have always fed quite nicely my need to be humiliated semi-publicly, even to be treated as an inanimate object without rights or a will of my own. Also, due to being a type one diabetic I have had a fair share of experiences of hospitals and nurses, and it is quite easy for me to imagine a number of humiliating experiences that take place in a such setting.
Soon masturbating and ejaculating loses all its erotic quality for me. It is merely a thing I do when I'm being told to, without thinking it twice. I get used to doing it while being observed by a person or several of them, without any kind of privacy, even to do it in a hospital corridor while I'm waiting my turn to be called in for yet another humiliating experience. Masturbating and ejaculating are normal bodily functions, the nurses tell me, and it would do good for me to get rid of all the shame and inhibitions about it.
At one point it is decided I will be given shots to my testicles. At first I am apprehensive, but the nurses assure me it's for my own good. After the first shots I am being told this is a part of an important experiment, and the drug will increase the amount of semen being produced there. This in turn increases my horniness and forces me to empty my testicles even more often than before.
The more shots I am being given the heavier and fuller my testicles feel, very soon making me to masturbate continually. All the semen is being collected, "for examination purposes" the nurses tell me. I am also informed that all my masturbating will be filmed, and I do some of it in a kind of medical theater, with the whole staff observing.
If this was a short story, it would be necessary to make the protagonist object to what's happening to him, to fight back, even for a little bit. However, the nurses explain carefully to the protagonist, to me that is, there isn't anything wrong here, and I should stop complaining. They are doing their very best to cure my infertility, and I am not helping. Soon I understand it would be best just to comply.
Time passes, and days turn into weeks and months without me even realizing it. I am in fact quite content with my life inside the institution. Constantly masturbating and cumming isn't that bad a life, after all? Even doing it semi-publicly is something one gets used to amazingly quickly.
Finally, however, I am being told that everything that has happened, or the whole experiment, has in fact had nothing to do with curing my infertility. Instead my semen has been used as a raw material for making high-quality shoe polish for women. The hospital makes some of its profits this way, and my testicles have reacted to the new drug extremely well. Also, the cum my testicles produce has an extremely low sperm count, making it an excellent raw material.
I am also being told there is nothing unethical let alone illegal about the whole process, because it has being done under the consent of my wife. As soon as it was found out how well my testicles responded to the drug, and how low the sperm count in my cum was, they signed a contract that gives the hospital full authority over me, and my wife a fair share of the profits.
They also tell me my wife has no desire to continue her life with me, because it is now certain no miracle cure will increase the sperm count in my semen, and I will never be able to father a child with it. And why would the hospital even want to do it? The cum my testicles now produce benefits it, and my wife, far more than I ever could. Let alone all the happy customers using the product.
I admit this part of the fantasy has always seemed a bit implausible for me personally, since I've never had a wife, or even a girlfriend who I could picture in that role. But "the evil wife" seems to be a very common trope in a stories written by and for submissive males, and the story needs it, so I'll let it be. But it could be the protagonist's evil girlfriend as well, or evil mother, or even an evil big sister. Who knows, perhaps all of them together.
After some time passes again I am being informed that despite my constant masturbating I am too ineffective getting all the sperm out of my testicles myself. That is, too ineffective for the hospital to make the kind of profit in needs to. It turns out the new shoe polish is in high demand, and both the hospital and my wife have come to the conclusion the production needs to be speeded up.
Therefore I am being taken out of the hospital and brought to the shoe-polish making facility itself. I am being wheeled into a huge factory hall and a huge apparatus that covers my whole groin area is being lowered from above. I am being attached to the milking machine and it starts to masturbate me continually, as well as inject my testicles with the drug regularly.
The technicians leave, the nurses leave without saying a word, and I look around me. There are tubes going from the apparatus to huge tanks where my sperm is being stored. I have no option that just to lay there, unable to move, and turned into a human semen cow.
Merry Christmas!
