Ms. Andre paused in her telling of the story, to see how I was doing. I was lying on my back on the bed, shaking with arousal, sweat was dripping on my brow and my penis was extremely stiff and pointing toward my navel at a 45 degree angle. Ms. Andre had the palm of her hand atop my testicles and her flat fingers lay against the underside of my stiff and throbbing member. Her hand was just holding firm contact between my spread thighs and making slow circular movements.
"Do you feel like you might ejaculate soon, Jeffrey?" she asked calmly.
"Not the way you're touching me," I gasped, "It feels good but isn't pushing me to spurt. I really need to spurt, Ms. Andre, please let me spurt..." I moaned and begged for her mercy, but to no avail.
"Oh, Jeffrey," she said, "You know I can't do that. This is just a session of arousal for you â€“ to help your treatment be effective. I'll just keep the soft slow circles going so you have nice sensations in your genitals, but you won't be ejaculating any time soon, honey. I know it's hard for you, dear, and that's why I'm telling you a nice story to keep your mind off the sensations in your penis."
She smiled happily as I writhed and moaned under her hand, struggling to increase the contact in the hope that I could cum. But she knew just how to make a boy mad with arousal, and yet not allow him to spurt the semen that was boiling within.
For my part, the story she was telling wasn't taking my mind off of my penis. On the contrary, it kept me thinking about being exposed and erect and her hand on me and her promise that I would not be allowed to spurt. She was driving me crazy on purpose of course, and I knew it. I couldn't help but submit to her and let her do with me what she wanted, but at the same time I really wanted to ejaculate. It felt like I was filling up with arousal and semen and I might soon burst.
Ms Andre looked at me lovingly. "I see your mind working, Jeffrey, and I think I can guess what you're thinking. Any boy would have the same thoughts in your position. I know you need to spurt honey, and you're feeling like you'll explode. But that's a good sign that the treatment is beginning to work. I'll just keep giving you this nice massage, and I'll tell you more about young Gregory and how he became such a good slut boy..."
Irene let the boy finish vacuuming, and then told him, "Craig, it's time for your milking, honey."
Craig looked at her with wide eyes, realizing that it was now 'that time', and he wasn't as prepared to handle it as he had thought. He started to blush and look down. His hands went naturally to cross in front of his pretty pink pouch.
"None of that, dear," said Irene, "You know boys should keep their hands at their sides. Now come on over here and we'll get you ready. Just stand by the dining table, and I'll get you organized in a moment."
Irene smiled to herself as she collected the things she'd need. She retrieved the sample cup, the lotion, some baby oil, a nice dry towel, and two small pillows, and then put them all at one end of the dining table. She knew that leaving the boy standing there, hands at his sides and waiting to be milked, would give him time to think about his milking in the Dr.'s office, and that he was about to be milked by his Aunt.
He would feel again the mixture of embarrassment at his completely and lewdly exposed he was to the three women attending his milking at the clinic. He'd remember how helpless he felt as Dr. Jordan took his semen so completely, while saying things that made his tummy quiver in arousal and surrender. And he'd think about his Aunt â€“ that she was about to milk him as the doctor had done, and all these emotions would fill him again with a sort of dread anticipation...
These were good thoughts for a boy to have, she mused.
When she was ready, Irene said, "Ok, Craig, let's have you slip your panties down to your ankles, dear..." She loved saying 'panties', because she always saw a bit of embarrassment cross his face whenever she did so. The boy hesitated a moment, and she just stared at him with a serious expression, which caused him to begin to slip his pouch panties down. They pooled at his ankles and he stood like a good boy with his hands at his sides, waiting for her next instruction. She enjoyed how compliant he was already becoming as she took a moment to enjoy the view of his large and shaved-clean genitals.
"Good boy," said Irene, smiling. She knew she should help the boy increase his submissive feelings during each milking session, and she had a delightful idea of what to make him do next...
"Craig," she said calmly, "I think it will be a good exercise for your development if you were to show your cooperation with your milking program formally. So I have decided that you will ask me to milk you. I want to hear you say 'Aunt Irene, would you please milk my penis now and make all my semen come out into the sample cup?' Now stand up straight, look me in the eyes, and ask me."
She crossed her arms under her breasts and stood, waiting for him to say it. After a few moments, she looked at her watch and said, "Don't dilly-dally, Craig, we're on a schedule here..."
The boy was blushing bright pink, and Irene thought it was just darling. Finally, with all his courage, the boy overcame his intense embarrassment and said, "Please milk me, Aunt Irene, so that all my semen comes out." It wasn't perfect, but it was good enough for her.
"Good boy," she said, "You may step out of your panties and put your panties on that chair."
"Yes, Ma'am," he whispered, still blushing as he obeyed her.
"Now then, let me tell you what we're going to do. I'm going to have you on your hands and knees on the dining table, with your thighs spread nice and wide for me. Then I'll put the sample cup under your penis, and I'll begin to massage your penis to coax out your semen." She paused to gauge the boy's blushing response. No argument, she thought, how wonderful! She also noticed that his delightfully long penis was beginning to twitch and thicken in anticipation. She knew the boy couldn't help it, and enjoyed that he was even more embarrassed about becoming erect as she watched.
She took her time to enjoy a few throbs of his penis, as he stood still â€“ pinned under her gaze. Then she motioned for the boy to get up on the table and he did so in a delightfully awkward fashion. She guided him to be positioned at the very corner, with his left knee just at the edge of the table. Irene enjoyed guiding his movements with one hand on his tummy just against his stiffening shaft, and her other hand on his cute bottom. She noted how compliant the boy was to her touch, and how nicely his growing penis and heavy testes hung downward now, so easy to touch and control.
She put the little pillows under his knees for added comfort, and made sure he spread his thighs a little wider, to increase his complete vulnerability and surrender to her will. Just right, she thought, as she made a big show of positioning the large sample cup beneath the swelling pink head of his penis.
"My, my, Craig," she said in a soft warm voice, "It looks like your penis is getting nice and stiff for your Aunt Irene. Are you feeling ready for your milking?" He nodded almost imperceptibly, because he was so embarrassed that he couldn't hide his arousal. That was another thing Irene thought was so nice about male genital anatomy â€“ it was completely honest â€“ they couldn't hide their arousal, and they couldn't fake an orgasm. It was so enchanting to watch a boy become stiff and erect, and then to watch his sweet boy-juice spurt as moans and writhes...
"I need you to answer my questions with real words, honey," she said, as she made sure he could see her pouring baby oil into her hands and rubbing them together. She began to ever-so-lightly apply the baby oil to his scrotum, being very careful to tease the boy with maximum effect.
He stuttered, "Oh!" when he felt her hands begin to massage his testes.
"Answer my question, dear, do you feel ready for your milking now?"
"Yes, Ma'am," he whispered, as a little shudder went through his body.
"Good boy," said Irene as she began to apply the oil to the shaft of his stiff penis. "You need to communicate and let me know how you're doing with your milkings, dear. You should always tell me when you feel ready. And sometimes, when it's not milking time, if you feel you need a testicle massage, like this, you only have to ask and I'm sure I or someone else would be willing to help you." She smiled in satisfaction as she watched the boy's body tense and squirm a bit as she fondled his big testes. She took her time because she wanted Marg to arrive long before the excited boy would be allowed to spurt...
Irene decided to start very slowly, and invest some quality time to 'imprint' the boy with all the different words and phrases she had been rehearsing in her mind since she had read the instructional email.
"Ok, Craig, I'm going to start milking your penis soon, so I'll need you to remain calm and relaxed, breathe deeply, and stay very still for me. That's my good boy. Aunty is going to give you nice slow strokes down your penis to help get you nicely stretched out, and after a while, we'll have some nice big spurts and get a full flow of semen into the sample cup. Does that sound nice, dear?"
"Yesss..." he whispered, "...Ma'am... Uhhhhh.... Ohhh..."
Irene took a gentle grip at the base of his shaft, and worked her oily hand slowly downward, all the way over the head of his penis just as her other hand began to repeat the 'milking' action. "Can you feel Auntie's hands beginning to milk your penis, Craig?"
"Oooh... Yessss.... Ooooh..." he gasped.
"That's it, good boy," she said to encourage him, "It's good for you to make lots of sounds and noises to express how you are feeling during your milking time. And it is especially good for you to use words to express yourself. I know, why don't we practice a few phrases together? Would you like to do that with me?"
She stopped all hand movement and waited for his response. Immediately, he rasped, "Yes, Ma'am."
She resumed the slow stroking and said, "Repeat after me, dear; 'oh, thank you Aunty Irene for milking my penis'. Can you say that for me?" She counted to three and then stopped her hand movements.
This got the boy's attention, and he quietly whispered, "Thank you Aunty Irene for milking my penis." His face and neck were again flushed a deep red. He was so embarrassed for saying such a thing out loud, but then he relaxed a little as Irene resumed her hand-over-hand motions on his now very stiff and throbbing penis.
She marveled at the size of the boy. He truly had a magnificent penis, so much bigger than she had ever seen before. She loved how big and stiff it felt in her small hands â€“ she could not touch her fingertips together when her hand was around the delightful girth of his erect shaft. "Good boy," she said.
She continued to slowly stroke him as she began to talk â€“ to imprint his vulnerable mind â€“ with the 'right' kind of words to impress upon him his need to surrender control and let his submissive nature come forth.
"Aunty Irene is rubbing her boy's penis... Aunty is going to help her boy make a nice big cum in the sample jar... Auntie's boy needs to make nice big-boy spurts, don't you dear?"
He whispered "Yes".
"My good boy is naked up on my milking table with his thighs nice and wide and his penis and testicles nicely displayed so Aunty can milk him... Such a good boy to be so cooperative with his milking time... And you like being milked, don't you Craig?"
She waited a moment, and then stopped her hand movements. Immediately the boy whispered, "Yes, Ma'am." Irene smiled in triumph.
"Does Auntie's good boy like being naked for Aunty? Does my good boy want to make Aunty proud with nice big-boy spurts? Does my good boy like how it feels when Aunty milks his penis?"
To all these things, they boy responded, "Yessss..." to Irene's great delight.
Just then, the doorbell rang, and Irene suppressed a grin as she completed the strokes already started and then took her hands from the boy's penis. He actually pouted!
"Oh, I wonder who that could be?" said Irene, "You just wait right here, honey, and I'll go see who it is. Don't you move at all. Do you understand me?"
The boy shuddered but said, "Yes, Aunt Irene."
"Good boy," she winked, and walked a few steps to the front door.
Craig could hear her conversation at the door. There was another woman's voice. He heard his Aunt say, "Well, I suppose it would be alright for you to come in and help me. It's such a chore to milk a young boy like this because it can take a very long time."
He looked and saw Irene returning, followed by her friend Marg whom he had met before. Marge's eyes were big as saucers, drinking in the view of the naked and vulnerable boy on hands and knees with his thighs spread and his enormous genitals in clear view. He was embarrassed anew, and hid his face so he wouldn't have to look Marg in the eye. He struggled with the desire to jump from the table and run away, but another part of him just surrendered to the situation and decided that since she'd already seen him, there was no point.
"Hi Craig," said Marg happily, "I see you're in the middle of having your milking session with your Aunt Irene. Do you mind if I join you?"
Craig couldn't do anything else, so he said, "Um... I guess... if Aunt Irene's ok with it..." and hung his head in defeat. He knew the woman was looking at his erect penis, so fully displayed between his thighs, and he had never felt more naked and vulnerable.
Aunt Irene took up her position again, put more oil on her hands, and began to the slow downward strokes that felt so good but weren't enough to make him spurt. She smiled and winked at Marg, and began to fill her in, mainly for the boy's benefit.
"Well, Marg," Irene began, "I have received a milking schedule from the doctor for Craig. He will need to be milked like this several times a day, according to the strict time schedule, so that we get all of his semen out and keep his juices flowing. This motion I am doing right now is designed to help stretch his penis out nice and long, and eventually we'll have him spurt for us. Why don't you put some oil on your hands and get ready to take a turn? That would help me not to get too tired. In the meantime, you can massage his testicles while I continue the milking strokes on his penis."
"That sounds marvelous," said Marg happily. The leaned over to whisper in the young boy's ear, "Would you be alright if I massage your testes, dear? Do you think that would help you to have a good milking?"
He grimaced with embarrassment, but whispered, "Yes, Ma'am."
"Ah, that's so nice. Your Aunt Irene said you were a very good boy, and I can see that." Marg quickly oiled her hands and took up position directly behind the boy, marveling at how big and full his testicles looked. She licked her lips and took a testicle in each hand, gently massaging them and enjoying the feel of his velvet pouch and fully firm testes.
Craig moaned softly and his hips wiggled involuntarily at the increase in sensations between his legs. He couldn't believe that he was having his first milking at home with now two women attending to the health of his genitals. He had to admit that he was becoming ever more aroused, not simply from the stimulation, but because of his completely vulnerable predicament, and the way the women were treating him. It was as though they felt that milking him of his semen was a completely normal and natural thing to do. And he was beginning to hope it was...
Irene carried on with the 'imprinting' portion of the milking program. "Craig's penis is very stiff now, Marg; you should slip your hand beneath him and have a good feel of it." Marg did so, and allowed as how his penis was very nicely erect and suitable for a proper milking. "Yes," said Irene, "His genitals are very suitable for milking, and that's what the doctor has ordered."
The two women smiled at each other over the bottom of their charge, and mouthed things like "wow" and "so big" to each other silently. Irene had Marg trade places with her and the close friend began to give Craig the downward slow strokes. Irene coached her friend a little, helping her to get the technique mastered. Marg had to keep reminding herself not to go too fast lest she shorten the session overmuch.
Irene took up the task of massaging the boy's testes, enjoying the feel of them in her hands very much. She said, "You know, Marg, now that you're having your first practice at milking Craig, I was thinking..."
"Yes?" said Marg.
"Well, since Craig needs regular milkings many times per day, I was hoping to engage the help of several of my friends to sort of 'share the burden'. Would you be interested in milking Craig for me from time to time?"
"Oh, certainly," Marg said, "I'd be happy to help in any way I can. I want Craig to be a very healthy and properly developed boy too."
"That's very nice of you, dear," said Irene, "So can I put you down for the afternoon milking? If you're home, I can just send Craig over to you and you can milk his penis as you're doing now. You'll just have to measure his semen properly and let me know so I can record his output in the schedule."
"Oh, that will be no problem, I'm sure Craig will give me nice big spurts, won't you Craig?"
The boy had been moaning throughout the women's conversation, becoming a bit overwhelmed by the sensations and the devastating embarrassment of their chat. He nodded, and moaned more.
"Good boy," said Irene, "I think it would now be a good time to speed up just a bit, so that we can bring my good boy's semen spurting out."
"Ok," said Marg, as she doubled the speed of her strokes, quickly eliciting new moans and wiggles from the aroused boy. "He has such a fine penis; I'm looking forward to watching him spurt."
"Me too," said Irene, gauging the boy's heightening arousal and smiling at the tell-tale sign of his testes pulling up to his body. "He's going to spurt for us, Marg. Be sure to keep his penis aimed right in the center of the sample container."
Marg nodded, lost in her concentration on the boy's big penis, and ready to see his semen start spurting out. In a matter of moments, the boy's body tensed and he gasped, "Ahhhhh!!!... Ooooh...."
Irene immediately began talking him through his ejaculation to imprint him thoroughly. "Yes, good boy, make a big spurt for us... ah! Well done! Good spurts! Yes, keep spurting dear boy, that's right, spurt it all out for us... Yes, yes, that's it! Oh, such a good boy making such good spurts! That's good, just another spurt honey, yes, nice, and another, just a little more, one more big push, that's my good boy, yes, very nice, very nice!"
After his last spurt, the boy wobbled and Irene gently supported him to keep him from falling over. She caressed his back and bottom, and gently rolled the palm of her hand on his testes, as she instructed Marg to 'milk' his shaft firmly, but to leave his sensitive glans alone. Both women were pleased to see the additional pearly drops of semen form at the tip of his penis and drop into the sample cup.
Irene looked at how much the boy had produced and was proud of him and herself that he had had such a thorough milking. She decided that he would benefit greatly from many of her friends' help with his milking, and Marg was chief among them.
After Marg had expressed what appeared to be the last available drop from the exhausted boy, Irene took the sample cup and set it on a nearby counter. Returning to the boy, she helped him to lie down on his back and rest. The two women stood together and looked at the spent boy, so cherubic in his automatic sleepiness, with his eyes closed and his chest rising and falling with deep even breaths.