The Milking

Marcus, a chubby 50-something traveling salesperson, found himself in the heart of a remote southern town as the sun gradually descended below the horizon. The local police had pulled him over for a minor offense - a broken taillight that he had yet to repair. Despite offering to pay the fine on the spot, the police officer declined and informed Marcus that he would have to appear in court.

Confused but compliant, Marcus arrived at the town's courthouse the next day. He couldn't help but notice how unusually tiny the town was, scarcely larger than a postage stamp. To his surprise, the town boasted a night court, which struck him as peculiar given its size. As he took his place among other bewildered individuals in the cramped courtroom, Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that something peculiar awaited him.

The judge, an elderly man with a stern countenance and a mischievous glint in his eye, entered the chamber and wasted no time in proceeding with the day's cases. Marcus was called forward, his heart pounding as he approached the bench.

"Mr. Marcus," the judge declared, his voice deep and authoritative. "You stand here today accused of a minor offense. And for such a transgression, I hereby sentence you to milking."

Marcus's eyes widened in disbelief. "Milking?" he echoed, struggling to comprehend the absurdity of his punishment.

"Yes, milking," the judge affirmed with a resolute nod.

Marcus's jaw dropped even further, leaving his plump cheeks resembling startled pancakes. His mind raced frantically, searching for any rational explanation for this bizarre turn of events. Milking? In a courtroom? Could this be some sort of initiation for outsiders? His imagination conjured up images of himself wrestling with a cantankerous bovine in a dimly lit barn, perspiration trickling down his forehead as he strained to fill a bucket with warm, frothy liquid. The mental image did little to calm his nerves.

"But, Your Honor," Marcus stammered, desperately grasping for words, "I've never milked a cow in my life! I wouldn't even know where to begin!"

The judge's laughter echoed ominously in the cramped courtroom, sending shivers down Marcus' spine. "Oh, we are not milking cows," the judge declared with a sinister grin.

The large police officers wasted no time, swiftly seizing Marcus by the shoulders and forcefully escorting him out of the courtroom into a room with an operating table, and a group of men led by one Dr. Brown, a little elderly man with a stethoscope around his neck and a white jacket.

Dr. Brown, with a hint of remorse in his voice, attempted to explain the bewildering situation. "You see, in this town, we have a ritual known as the Milking Law. It is a law that we believe is divinely ordained. You have been chosen for this service, and according to the Milking Law, it is necessary for you to have a specific amount of seminal fluid in order to comply."

Marcus was dumbfounded, struggling to make sense of the bizarre circumstances. What did they mean by milking? What was this Milking Law? And how on earth would they determine the quantity of seminal fluid he possessed? Countless questions swirled in his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.

Observing Marcus' confusion, the elderly doctor spoke reassuringly. "I understand that this is all quite overwhelming, Mr. Marcus," he said kindly. "But rest assured, there is no need worry”

Marcus nodded, though his understanding remained limited. "Now, if you would allow me to conduct a brief examination of your testicles," Dr. Brown requested. With the two policemen gripping his arms tightly, the doctor unzipped Marcus' pants and began palpating his scrotum.

"Hmm," the doctor pondered, "you do have a decent amount of seminal fluid stored, Mr. Marcus, but we could certainly extract more."

"This is madness!" Marcus protested, his voice filled with disbelief. "This goes against every law in the United States!" In response, one of the guards delivered a brutal punch, silencing Marcus' objections.

Dr. Brown's voice took on a sinister tone as he spoke, his words dripping with malice. "Listen closely, boy," he began, his voice sending shivers down Marcus' spine. "We hold considerable influence over the Republican party in this state. That means they turn a blind eye to any activities we undertake to ensure the survival of our town."

Confusion and disbelief filled Marcus as he struggled to catch his breath. "What?" he managed to utter, his voice trembling.

A wicked smile played on Dr. Brown's lips as he continued, his words laced with a disturbing intent. "Let's just say you're going to become our little stud boy. Most of the men in this town are impotent, resulting in a significant decline in birth rates. We had to take matters into our own hands."

Marcus couldn't comprehend what he was hearing. "Couldn't you have used a sperm bank or something?" he questioned, desperately searching for any semblance of reason.

A cold, chilling laugh escaped Dr. Brown's lips as he dismissed Marcus' suggestion. "No, my dear boy. This is a sacred ritual that has been practiced in our town for years. We have made this process special and meaningful to us."

Returning to his somber demeanor, Dr. Brown gestured towards the law enforcement officials positioned nearby. "Undress him," he commanded, his voice devoid of any trace of compassion.

The quintet of men in the room swiftly closed in on Marcus. The two police officers hoisted Marcus up by his shoulders, despite his weight, while one of the men removed his shoes and socks.

They proceeded to unbutton his shirt, causing Marcus's heart to quicken its pace. "Stop! Stop!" he cried out. "You cannot do this." However, it was too late. They had already stripped him of his shirt and pants. Marcus now stood before them, clad only in his underwear.

"You must remove your underwear as well," one of the men stated. "But I cannot do that!" Marcus protested. "Why not?" the man inquired. Marcus replied."I am unaccustomed to being exposed in front of others," "That is unfortunate, but you must comply nonetheless," the man asserted. "Very well," Marcus conceded, defeated, and he removed his underwear. He now stood completely naked before these men, revealing a plump, middle-aged figure with pale, porcelain skin due to his lack of exposure to the outdoors and a soft physique.

"Now, climb onto this table and prepare for your examination," one of the men exclaimed. A humiliated Marcus pathetically ascended the table and lay down on his back, illuminated by a spotlight.

"Now, begin touching yourself, Marcus," the doctor instructed. "What do you mean by 'touch myself'?" Marcus questioned. "Place your hand on your little penis and commence rubbing it," the doctor clarified.

Marcus reluctantly began fondling his genitals in front of the five men and police officers. Despite his efforts, he struggled to achieve the desired erection for the intended results. In fact, as time passed, he found himself growing increasingly flaccid.

Marcus's face contorted in disgust as the doctor barked orders at him. "You must continue until you achieve an erection," he insisted. Marcus felt a surge of panic and frustration well up inside him. "But it's not working!" he cried out.

"Well then, we will have to explore alternative methods," the doctor proposed with a sly smile. Marcus's heart raced as he wondered what could possibly be worse than this humiliating experience.

Suddenly, one of the men spoke up, revealing himself to be a former mayor. His voice was laced with malicious intent as he demanded, "I want to see you fondle your breasts."

Marcus's jaw dropped in shock and indignation. How dare they ask him to do such degrading things? But before he could protest, the former mayor's words echoed in his ears: "Fondle your breasts." And so Marcus complied, feeling sick to his stomach as his hand traveled down to his chest.

"Squeeze your flesh," the ex-mayor commanded with a sinister grin. Marcus wanted to scream and run away from this nightmare, but somehow he found himself following the order and squeezing his own breast with growing desperation.

"Start flicking your nipples," another man chimed in, his voice dripping with lecherous pleasure. Marcus's body trembled with revulsion as he forced himself to obey yet again.

But just when Marcus thought it couldn't get any worse, the hardware store owner gave him a new command: "Lick your finger and stick it up your ass." Marcus's mind went blank with disbelief. Did he really just hear that? Without hesitation or resistance, he did as he was told, feeling dirty and degraded beyond belief.

The former mayor chuckled darkly and added, "Now stick your other finger up there too." Marcus's face burned with humiliation as he followed through on yet another disgusting request.

And finally, the former mayor's voice cut through the sickening silence: "Now lick those fingers and put them in your mouth." Marcus felt a wave of revulsion wash over him as he tasted the remnants of his own bodily fluids. He couldn't believe what he had just done, but somehow, it had made him even more aroused.

The doctor smiled with approval as Marcus's body betrayed him once again, his penis growing hard and throbbing against his will. This was his punishment for being unable to perform, a humiliating and degrading experience that would surely haunt him for years to come.

The doctor's cold, calculating eyes bore into Marcus as he ordered him to continue rubbing his chubby body. "I want you nice and aroused before your milking," he sneered. With trembling hands, Marcus obeyed, his fingers exploring every inch of his body - touching his erect nipples, playing with his belly button, rolling over to rub his cushioned ass, then daringly reaching back to play with his taint.Marcus could feel the eyes of the other men on him as he shamefully followed their orders. "Now wiggle your belly and shake your hips for us," the ex-mayor commanded. With a sense of deep humiliation, Marcus put his hands on his hips and began to shake as the men watched with predatory hunger.His thick thighs quivered, his belly jiggled, and his nipples bounced up and down in response to the movements. The combination of humiliation and arousal was overwhelming, and soon Marcus felt his cock growing hard from the stimulation.The doctor picked up a jar of lube and poured it onto his gloved hand, causing it to glisten under the harsh lights. With a cruel smirk, he grabbed hold of Marcus's throbbing cock and started to stroke it slowly. Marcus let out an involuntary moan as he felt the doctor's warm hand wrap around him.The pleasure was intense as the doctor's skilled hand worked its way up and down Marcus's shaft, spreading the slick lubricant along the sensitive skin. The pressure built inside him until he could feel pre-cum leaking from the tip of his cock.Desperate for release, Marcus couldn't help but moan louder as the doctor increased the pace and intensity of his strokes. He knew he was close to climaxing, but just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, the doctor slowed down, prolonging his torture and driving him even wilder.

"Please, doctor," Marcus begged, his voice hoarse with desperation. His body was writhing beneath the doctor's touch, craving release from the unbearable pressure building up inside him. The doctor's smile twisted into a sadistic grin as he increased his pace, causing Marcus to moan in both pleasure and agony. With each stroke of the doctor's hand, Marcus felt like he was on the verge of exploding.Finally, the doctor pulled out a large test tube and placed it over the head of Marcus's swollen member. As the doctor pumped it up and down, collecting every drop of Marcus's essence, the young man couldn't hold back any longer. He let out a guttural cry as he released into the tube, his entire body shaking with overwhelming pleasure. The doctor continued to milk him until there was nothing left, then removed the tube with a satisfied smirk, leaving Marcus panting and trembling in ecstasy.

Marcus lay there, his entire body convulsing from the intense orgasm that had just ripped through him. Gasping for air, he watched as the doctor removed his gloves and carefully disposed of them, a sinister smile creeping across his face. The other men in the room nodded in satisfaction, their eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure. As the doctor left, Marcus was left alone with his thoughts, terrified of what would come next in this hellish place. He couldn't imagine ever being allowed to leave or escape this nightmare.

Laying naked on the cold metal table, Marcus shuddered as he processed the disturbing experience. Every touch, every sensation felt like a violation of his body and soul. And now, with the possibility of a second "milking," he feared he wouldn't be able to perform like they wanted him to. But deep down, he also knew that it didn't matter - they would take what they wanted from him regardless.

Exhausted and traumatized, Marcus eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep on the sterile table. But his rest was short-lived as he was abruptly awakened by the sound of the men re-entering the room hours later. His heart raced with fear and despair at what awaited him next.

"Marcus, it's time for your second milking," the doctor barked, his tone laced with authority. Marcus cowered in fear as he looked up at the doctor, eyes wide with terror and anticipation. "I-I'm not sure I can do this again," he stammered, his voice trembling. The doctor's face remained stoic as he replied, "We all have our duties to perform, Marcus. Now let's not waste any more time." With a heavy heart, Marcus followed the doctor's instructions and got on his knees, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

As the doctor and his men surrounded him, Marcus's mind raced with thoughts of escape. But before he could make a move, strong hands held his arms firmly in place. He could feel their grip tightening, almost bruising his skin.

The doctor stood in front of him, studying him with a cold gaze. "Relax, Marcus," he said in a sickly sweet tone, "we'll take good care of you." But Marcus knew there was no kindness in those words.

Suddenly, the doctor asked a question that made Marcus's blood run cold. "We noticed on your file that you're not married," he said casually, "would you happen to be a homosexual?" Shock and confusion coursed through Marcus's body. What did his sexuality have to do with this twisted ritual? "W-What does that have to do with anything?" he managed to choke out.

A sinister smile spread across the doctor's face as he replied, "Oh, just an observation. We've found that gay men tend to enjoy this particular part of the process more than straight men." Disgust and fear consumed Marcus as he realized the true nature of what was happening to him. But he knew he had no choice but to comply.

Marcus watched as the five men surrounding him slowly took off their clothes, kneeling down to reveal their naked and pudgy bodies. The hardware store owner stood by Marcus' head, playing with his nipples while Marcus couldn't help but stare at the man's exposed penis. He fought back the urge to put it in his mouth. Another man rubbed his belly while the mayor fondled his scrotum and stroked Marcus' erect member. Marcus relaxed, feeling oddly safe in this strange situation, until he saw the naked doctor approaching with a fistful of lubricant. "Just relax and enjoy," he said, sliding his fingers into Marcus' anus. Marcus felt a surge of nausea as the doctor added another finger, starting to finger him aggressively. The doctor then began massaging Marcus' prostate gland, causing him to moan loudly. "It helps with the milking," the doctor explained to the other men, who were all watching intently and getting aroused. They joined in, touching Marcus' body as they watched the doctor work on his prostate. Soon enough, Marcus was caught up in the intense pleasure and moaning loudly for all of them to hear.

The doctor's excitement was evident as he observed Marcus's cock twitch and jump. "It's clear how much pleasure it brings him," the doctor remarked to the other men. "Now let's see his reaction when I insert my entire fist." "You're going to fist me?" Marcus exclaimed. "Don't worry, your anus can handle this and it will enhance your orgasm," the doctor giggled sinisterly. With that, the doctor began pushing his fist into Marcus's tight asshole, causing him to scream in pain. "Oh my god! It hurts!" Marcus cried out. But the doctor paid no mind to his pleas and continued sliding his fist deeper inside until it was fully inserted. The sensation was excruciating for Marcus as he felt his asshole stretch and burn from the intrusion. "Please stop!" he begged, but the doctor kept thrusting in and out of his ass with his fist. Despite the pain, Marcus couldn't help but feel his cock swell at the stimulation. He tried to hold back, but it was too late. He came all over the doctor's hand as he reached climax. Smiling with satisfaction, the doctor withdrew his hand and wiped it off on a towel. "You did well, Marcus. I'm pleased you enjoyed your first fisting experience," he said. "Now let's get you cleaned up...you are a perfect specimen for milking." Still dazed from the intense sensation, Marcus was led into another room where he was given back his clothes and handed a piece of paper that read 'sentence served'.

As Marcus got dressed and left the building, the cork handed Marcus an envelope. Entering his car, he opened up the envelope which had the elderly doctor’s name and phone number with note stating he was ever back in town to look him up.