Summer Break at Breedum Hung U.
Junior was having trouble getting his rocks off with Beeb's jackoff machine. Going back home for summer break, the roommate had generously left it for Junior to use while he stayed at the dorm, but there were too many settings and not enough buttons and Junior was getting frustrated trying to find the programmed action that could pop his nut. Even though this was the extra-long model with up to an entire foot of high-speed stroke, the effect so far was just tease.
"Hey Junior, you gonna work this summer or just wank?" Archie poked his head into Junior's dorm room without knocking, as usual. This obtrusive guy was so named because he sorta looked like the cartoon character, but also because his erection rose upward from his crotch and then pointed back down in an arch like a bridge. Guys in civil engineering jokingly asked to see it for their studies, and Archie would obligingly display his unusual pecker, getting a boner from being a show-off.
"Sheesh, Archie! I was trying to bust a nut in this goddam thing, and now you've shot that down completely! It probably doesn't have the battery power to start all over again. I oughta rape yer mouth for disrupting me like that."
Archie was amused. He liked messing with Junior, `cause there was never any real blowback. "Well, I don't think that'll be necessary if you go with me right now and get a real easy summer job. There's a new company in town making biofuels and they need spunk from horny college cocks for the chemistry. You get paid to drop loads in their super-duper machines! C'mon, throw that piece o' junk away!"
Junior replaced Beeb's machine in its charger, after carefully cleaning off the lube and precum. Given Junior's state of excitement it was impossible to hide the ridiculously prominent bulge, but students from his school were notorious for this, so the two walked about shamelessly.
The industrial part of town was changing. Old metalworking factories were being torn down and replaced with flat, faceless electronic manufacturing buildings. Even the chemical plants didn't have smokestacks anymore, capturing vapors in additional labyrinths of piping. Archie and Junior approached one of these plants, looking for a door with the right name and number.
Archie spotted it. "Ah! Essence Vitale. Essonce Veetal.' It's a French company. The name means life force' and `gasoline' at the same time."
A receptionist gave them forms to fill out while they waited. Junior admired the aerodynamic sports cars in a glassed-in showroom, displaying some of the special engines converted to run on gas derived from cum. Someday he'd get a real job and buy a beautiful machine like that. Or maybe electric.
An expressionless male assistant from the Human Resources department called Junior's name first, and led him to what looked like a medical exam room while droning a memorized pitch. "If you pass our physical tests, you'll be working in our raw materials division, contributing the chemical component that makes our product unique in the world. Since ancient times, man has hypothesized a life force associated with the machinery of reproduction." The assistant gestured vaguely toward an illustrated chart of the company's central concepts. "Very recently, science has shown there's some truth to that. Using the most advanced chemical manufacturing technologies, we can extract the essence of this force and derive from it a powerful fuel. Clean, renewable, sustainable energy for the good of all mankind is the result. You will be a pioneer in this green revolution." The assistant mouthed these words with no affect, just as he had in the online training. "Now please remove all your clothing and lie down on this table."
A series of automatic sensors came out from the wall on robot arms, checking Junior's vital statistics so that the assistant didn't have to touch him, just watch a computer monitor as the numbers accumulated. When this was complete, the arms receded and a cylinder connected to hoses lowered down from the ceiling to the table between his legs. Being a good foot-and-a-half long, it looked like it had been fashioned to accommodate the cocks typical of Breedum Hung University and with some extra margin. The cylinder vacuumed Junior's dick inside and pneumatically expanded it to maximum proportions, then started modulating the vacuum with high frequency pressure oscillations. Junior's meat felt like it was being powerfully vibrated on every surface, getting him blazing hot and breathing hard. His legs started to shake uncontrollably, which for some reason embarrassed him in front of the bored and uncaring assistant. After half a minute of this intense stimulation he blew a massive load into the cylinder, which vacuumed it all into a tube for analysis. The grey-faced assistant had been seeing this happen all day for weeks, and his grey wiener stayed limp.
"Your semen appears to be of good quality. You can start to work presently. Please put on your company-issued work suit, put your regular clothes in this box, and follow me." The work suit was a blue synthetic fiber, single-piece jumpsuit with a large opening around the crotch, allowing the cock and balls to swing freely. Junior was bashful to be walking around the company offices in this condition, but no one cared, although people seemed to enjoy staring at his manhood as it passed. Through a series of hallways they came to a large room with a ten-foot diameter glass cylinder in the middle and several men standing facing it, their rigid, taut-skinned dicks inserted in technical-looking holes, all pointed toward the center. The entire thing emitted a low humming sound. One man turned his head to check out Junior's knee-length hanging meat and soon started ejaculating into the glass cylinder. Junior was astounded at the volume this guy could shoot; more than he'd ever seen before, even from his bull-balls roommate. Nonplussed, the assistant gave Junior final instructions in a professional monotone. "This is where our raw material is collected. Please insert your penis into an unoccupied aperture. During the process, keep drinking the special preparation that is provided via the tube in front of you. You will find yourself completely drained of fluid in an hour or two at first. Increase your time on the machine by an hour each day. After a week you will produce at maximum capacity, and be paid a full day's wages."
As the assistant left, Junior was hesitant. How many loads was he expected to blow each day? Eight hours of this? Why wouldn't his dick just fall off? Well, other guys appear to be able to do the job. Might as well get to it.
Junior placed the head of his soft firehose against the hole, and it opened a little, sucking the cockmeat in past lubricated vacuum seals. Soon he was all in and getting big in the mild vacuum, hardening mechanically by air pressure. No wonder all the other guys had massively expanded, perfectly smooth cocks; they'd all been vacuum pumping for days or weeks. And now the oscillation of the vacuum, the all-over throbbing vibration sensation he had felt in the exam-room cylinder, was getting to him big time, turning him on again and building up the feeling of needing to cum. Just as he was settling in to wait for the oncoming orgasm, the hole beeped softly and Junior's whole dick instantly tingled with a new kind of electric vibration that made his impending ejaculation more urgent.
Junior's jittery writhing elicited a comment from his next-hole neighbor. "That's the HVRF tingler! Your dick is an antenna now, a tallywhacker Tesla coil. You'll get used to the sensation, but good luck holding your load, new guy! Haha!"
The effect on his cock was almost immediate. Sperm jetted out of him without warning, aided by the vacuum, shooting into the big bowl in the center of everything, sliding down into a drain. Junior convulsed with the spurts, cumming violently and almost painfully. Some of the other men were amused by this, while others reacted by cumming in sympathy, so that there were several streams hitting the bowl at once. Again, the more experienced "workers" shot gallons more than Junior had ever witnessed, pumping volumes of juice long after Junior's balls were drained dry. Junior wondered how long it would take him to build up a load like theirs.
Junior's neighbor offered advice, as if anticipating the question. "After a while, you learn how to hang out on the edge for a while, to build up yer load. Then you can pump out a good big squirt each time, not have the dry contractions. Those hurt. Oh, and if you want a seat, press this button." He indicated a little disk built into a panel in front of him. Junior found his disk and pushed, causing a bicycle-style seat to emerge on a post from the floor, offering some rest after his ordeal. The vacuum still pulled on his cock and didn't allow it to soften, and the vibrations were still working on it, but the electric tingling had stopped at least.
Junior used the respite to check out the other men's dicks. As usual, none were quite his magnitude in length, although most were impressively thick from being pumped on daily. Some of them had gone from wrist-thick to the diameter of a muscular upper arm after several weeks, requiring their owners to buy extra-loose pants just to house their hoses. Fortunately, oversized pants were still fashionable since the hiphop era, while sporting a massive crotch bulge didn't raise an eyebrow in this town. To Junior, it looked as if some of the urethral openings were puffy and distended, maybe due to incessant, high pressure jizzing. Most of the men possessed balls visibly hanging well below the high-tech holes, some reaching the "bull" stature of Junior's roommate. "Will this happen to me?" Junior mused. "Maybe I'll be able to compete with Beeb when he comes back in the Fall."
Junior recognized some of the younger guys from campus. "Boy, that nerd from math class is surprisingly hung! How does he hide it?" The University students recently on break looked like they hadn't been on the job as long as some others, since their cocks weren't as outrageously expanded, and when one of them came he wasn't as impressive. But where was Archie? Did he have trouble because of that water-faucet-shaped dick of his?
This reminded Junior that he should try the drink they provided. Sucking on the tube dangling near his face, he found it was like an artificial-tasting smoothie, not unpleasant, and sucked up enough to at least replenish the volume he'd lost through his dick today. A minute later he began sweating and feeling deliriously horny, his dick seriously reacting to the vibration, starting to bring forth another impulse to cum. Just when he could sense that the vibration was probably going to bring him off in the next few minutes, the electric tingling started up again. He wished it hadn't, because he wanted to last a little while and let it build up naturally, but the HVRF tingler was too efficient. In seconds he was ejaculating his guts out again, although with less volume and eventually more pain than before. As is often the case with men, three of the other guys watching this got triggered off, and in quick succession erupted in buckets of cum, splattering puddles of the stuff into the bowl.
Junior's neighbor could see his predicament. "Y'know, if you're new here, you're probably wrung out by now. Just push the button to get outta this thing, and go home for some rest." Junior tried the button, but this just lowered the seat. "No, fella, the one next to it. There ya go." On pushing the other button, Junior's dick was unsealed by the hole and could be pulled out with a slurping sound. Junior staggered back, finally leaning against a locker that he discovered held boxes of clothes, including his own. Swapping the work jumpsuit for his regular duds, he headed out, obscenely bulging but unconcerned.
By mid-summer, you could tell who had taken the Essence Vitale biofuels job. (And not Archie, who indeed couldn't make the cut due to his downward-pointing dong, which they said would never hit the target.) Hiphop fat-man pants on skinny guys were back in style, but suspiciously filled out in front, combined with nicer shoes and shirts and jackets than college guys usually could afford. This was a job that could be performed by a horse or bull as well as a human, but it paid better than entry-level skilled work. The number of available positions had dwindled due to an influx of otherwise jobless men with natural endowments equivalent to the Breedum Hung boys. This tended to tilt the town's population even more toward the extreme end of penile dimensions, adding to the tourist trade, first consisting of gay men and later joined by older women. Just as Stanford University spawned Silicon Valley in California, Breedum Hung U. would bring up Penis Peninsula in this East Coast state. In no place was this more evident than the beach where Essence Vitale summer employees, proud of their newly magnified equipment, would wear their now too-small swimsuits, bulging and gaping with edges of dickmeat visible. Tourists would come to gawk, hoping to catch sight of something slipping or popping out as it often did when the wearer walked along the beach, his ballooning package jiggling and twisting with every step.
Junior had matured into the job, being able to withstand an eight-hour shift including lunch and breaks, while comfortably blowing quart loads every twenty minutes. Vibration that used to pop his nuts in a minute now just helped slowly build up a big load that got released by the immediate action of the HVRF tingler, which no one could ever acquire a resistance to. A good team could spend a shift cumming in sequence around the circle like clockwork, so that when so-n-so spooged his bucketsful, it was time for lunch. A key element was the semen-volume-building, aphrodisiac drink they regularly imbibed. It put a guy in the mood to blow load after load and go back for more, while awakening every man's latent capacity for multiple, high-volume orgasms. Besides paying well, the job turned Junior and every other guy into superstuds.
Since nothing could compare with the stimulation they were getting at work, these special, raw material-producing employees had a hard time cumming any other way. It functioned like an addiction, but made the guys popular at parties. Junior's heterosexual tendencies attracted him to local suburban swinger events, where he was every cuckold husband's dream. Of course, it took a well-widened womb to accommodate him, but when enough of these meat-curtain matrons were lined up and ready, his never-tiring dick popped the pussies of each in turn, until after twenty or so he was able to unload in the lucky gal. Every husband wildly wanked his wizened wiener to completion at the sight.
Growing weary of the amount of effort he had to expend with the swingers, Junior took advantage of a more relaxing and reliable way to ensure satisfactory ejaculation. In the old, small-scale manufacturing part of town, now occupied by artists and social fringe-dwellers, there was the best gay sex club in the county. Straight guys, frustrated at home, always went there to get off well and maybe return the favor. Junior started to advertise himself in the locker room where guys changed into revealing gear. Upon seeing his equipment, the rest of them sprang hardons that made donning metal cock rings impossible. "Gimme that silicone one, Henry. This thing won't go down, now." In his new, open-crotch leather outfit (expensive, but paid for with summer job money!), Junior found a prominent place to sit where he could spread his legs and present his cock to a crowd of eager suckers and strokers. That's what this particular room would be about for the next few hours, as guys wandered in and stayed for the spectacle. As the action heated up, quite a few had to start jacking themselves off while watching his anaconda being serviced. Others decided not to let an opportunity go to waste, and helped the abject masturbators with their problem via a skilled hand or mouth. Junior watched these helpful fellows closely, to pick out the ones with apparent talent. If some fellow went from one cock to the next, getting each one to quickly ejaculate in turn, this was someone Junior might want for his "team" that would eventually pop him off. Here was one guy who could stroke a cock so fast his hand was a blur, with the result that everyone he grabbed was happy to let him do as he pleased until they couldn't hold their loads, a point they reached quite quickly. Junior mentally noted him down.
Meanwhile, the more socially forward fellows ventured to try their luck at making Junior's cock feel good. There tended to be a filtering effect, where only the most self-confident masters of the art would attempt to bring off such a monstercock, so Junior could experience the best of them. One of these had a long tongue, which he initially slid around the rim of Junior's mushroom dickhead, getting him rock hard. Then, to Junior's surprise, the man plunged his tongue down Junior's ample piss slit, probing deep into his urethra. This felt exquisite, so Junior let him see what he could do. The man had probably had some success with this trick, since he clearly was attempting to make Junior cum this way, basically tongue-fucking his giant cock. While that would be interesting, and would probably have gotten most guys with wide dicks to erupt, Junior could sense it wasn't going to be enough.
Junior motioned for the high-speed jackoff artist to come over, after he'd left another dick spurting. The next guy in line was clearly disappointed, but that was Junior's prerogative as the star. He could feel the high-speed hand on his shaft now, doing what it did to those pathetic premature ejaculators. It was soon clear that this guy could probably turn almost anybody into a premature ejaculator, aside from cum-pros like Junior. A good feeling was emerging from his cock, although it wasn't going to go all the way, he could tell.
Elsewhere in the crowded room, a man was orally working random randy cocks and making them squirt, but not in the typical way. He could use his lips and tongue to rapidly lick the sensitive part under the head, a part he knew very well, until the dick started to spew spunk into the air. Once he'd started his technique, it never took more than a minute of this treatment to achieve the ultimate effect, which seemed to surprise the men as they realized how fast they were going to shoot; you could see it on their faces just before they had to. It was also nice to see a blowjob where the squirts were clearly visible, launching from just above this guy's rapidly oscillating tongue. He too was knocking them off one after the other until Junior got his attention. He went over to Junior's dong, already being serviced by two others, and found a position where he could apply his mouth to the right place. The surprised expression was now on Junior's face, who'd never felt an oral expert quite like this.
A tall spectator jacking his own massively thick cock was having his long, low-hanging testicles tickled and licked by a friend in just the right way. This accelerated the thick cock's progress toward ejaculation so that soon it was fountaining cum, adding to the spreading puddle. Once he was done ejaculating, the tall man motioned for his friend to go service Junior similarly, and the friend soon joined the group working on Junior's junk. It was considerably more work to manipulate the much bigger balls of Junior, but this ball fiend was thrilled and dove into it.
This addition was what Junior needed to get him over the edge, and which was now approaching like an express train. With the tongue-fucker in his cockhead, the expert licker underneath, the high-speed jacker on the shaft, and the ball sucker on his sac, Junior had enough stimulation to blow his load, shooting thick jets into the tongue-fucker's face. He reeled back, letting the voluminous spurts shoot up to the ceiling, from where they splattered many of the onlookers. Junior had barely started to cum, and kept pumping powerfully as the rest of the crew continued working his dick. Compared to a normal cock, his had an almost endless supply, the sight of which got all the wanking spectators to shoot their wads if they hadn't already. Long past when everybody else in the room had oozed out their last drop, Junior was still acting like a firehose, until he too ran out of juice. The group shower was overcrowded that night.
On Junior's last day at the summer job, the Essence Vitale Sales Director showed him one of the sports cars outfitted for spunk gas. Junior got to sit in the low-slung driver's seat, and was delighted to find it had a special cutout to accommodate a giant, low-hanging set of cock and balls comfortably. A real man's car!
"Whoa! Fuck! They're almost as big as mine!" Junior's roommate Beeb (short for Bull Balls) was back for the Fall session, gobsmacked by the sight of Juniors massive summer-job scrotum. "And how could your whanger possibly have gotten any bigger? It's like if somebody told me the sun expanded. Nobody's gonna be able to take that thing now. Not unless your elephant-cunt girlfriend is about to give birth to a fireplug." Junior thought about his paramour Horse Girl, who would also be coming back to town for school. Too bad he couldn't have reamed her out gradually over the summer as his tool expanded, instead of having to surprise her with it now.
"I'll have to try her" admitted Junior, "but I've got a more urgent problem. I can't get off with anything but an orgy of professionals anymore. I need to shoot my load even more times a day than I used to, but I can't spend hours on it each time. Your machine runs out of batteries before I can get halfway there, and yeah, they haven't drilled out the tearoom glory holes big enough yet. What'll I do?" Beeb was friends with some hackers from the jackoff-machine hobbyist community, and was able to download some especially effective stroke sequences. With the machine on external power, it took a full half hour to pop Junior's nut. This was a vast improvement, but Beeb was worried Junior would wear the thing out and deprive him of his own quick cum tool. "With all that money from the summer job you better buy one of your own, one o' these days!" Beeb admonished.
Most of the former biofuels employees didn't have a handy machine to help them come down from their orgasm addiction, so they wound up unintentionally disrupting classes with their spontaneous spooge spurting. Junior's math class included a notable nerd from last year, who he'd seen cumming into the cylinder across from him during the summer. The guy had an immense cock, so Junior resolved to befriend him this year, and sat behind him in the lecture hall. "Hey, fella" Junior whispered, "Looks like we were work mates during the break, huh. You and me were the standouts in that group, I guess, with the junk we've got. Let's talk some time."
The nerd guy nodded and seemed to agree, but then got embarrassed and slunk down in his chair. His cock started to expand, pushing the cloth of his extra-loose pants up against the underside of the little flip-out desk in front of him. It lifted the desk and kept rising, a wet spot forming at the top, clear juice running down the side. This began to draw the attention of nearby students, who wondered how far upward it would go. The soaking wet pants cloth now completely clung to and outlined his dickhead, which was constantly dripping and soaking everything under it. The nerd guy clutched at his cock and tried to clamp down on the urethra to stem the flow, but this just excited him more, and after a few tense moments he unloaded a torrent of jizz in his pants. The thin cloth only limited the force of the blast, not the volume, so the whole mess flowed onto the back of the seat before him and into a slimy puddle that started to cascade down the terraced floor. More students were alerted to the splattering sound and followed the cascade as it made its way toward the front. Nerd guy was continuing to ejaculate the whole time, wondering if it would ever end. Junior mused "maybe this guy likes me."
Horse Girl, as Junior's putative girlfriend, was traditionally responsible for keeping his balls emptied out. Unfortunately, her capacious pussy wasn't equal to the task, and Junior wore her out after only getting off twice. Nevertheless, she was astounded at Junior's surplus semen. "Boy howdy! That cum shot would make enough cream pies for a Laurel and Hardy movie!" (Editor's note: she's probably referring to Battle of the Century, 1927, from Hal Roach Studios, with 3,000 pies thrown.)
"HVRF tingler, eh?" Prof Sleimschlager put a finger to his lips, staring out his office window at the verdant quadrangle in the center of campus. "High Voltage Radio Frequency. Yes, that could do it." Junior had briefed him on what he saw at the Essence Vitale factory. "I'm not surprised your nerve endings have been desensitized. Why, they are probably half burned away! On the other hand, it may also be possible to promote the growth of these nerves with an equivalent but opposite electromagnetic force, a circulating current that could act like a hormone to aid in assembling tissue..." The Prof was speculating aloud, but his inventions usually worked and Junior was getting desperate. Prof Sleimschlager rummaged in his desk, produced a caliper and a tape measure and said "Show me your penis!" Junior obliged, while the Prof measured and muttered "Gott in Himmel! Der grosste Schwanz der Welt!"
A few days later, the Professor handed Junior a sleeve of puffy fabric wound with thin wires connected to a box at the end. "Plug this in and wear it at nighttime, until you feel normal again. Well, is there such a thing as normal in this case? I cannot tell."
Junior dutifully wore the electronic device, and found after a few days that his sessions with Beeb's machine were getting shorter, as his sensitivity came back. Horse Girl could take Junior without abrasion, as their sessions successfully ended in under an hour, now, and his dick was back to its usual thickness. She regaled his roommate while waiting for him: "But, I'm tellin' ya, Beeb, that thing never shrinks down. It got the elastic all pulled out of it, so that it stays fat an' long alla time. I bet they hafta rooter the jizz outta the gym shower drain with alla the guys lookin' at him these days! Oh, an' speakin' o' jizz, he's a six-shooter now, pumpin' load after load! I usta like havin' him go for a long time, which he still does, but now with galloooons o' white stuff! He's even more fun than he usta be!" Beeb was secretly envious, having no main squeeze of his own despite his handsomeness. What was so hot about this coarse bumpkin?
"Hey, is this a coed college now?" Archie popped into the open doorway, as usual with no introduction or warning. "Remember how I couldn't use any of the regular machines? I mean, thanks Beeb, for getting me in touch with your J.O. hacker friends, but it's all designed for straight dicks, and I suppose that what I got counts as a disability. It kept me out of work, y'know." Archie displayed his downwardly arching dick, which got instantly hard from the exhibitionism. "Er, sorry miss, if this offends you..."
Horse Girl had seen it all. "Nawww! Pig dicks are curlicue. Ain't nothin' weirder than that!"
Archie was relieved. "Well, guess what! Professor Sleimschlager invented this this new thing just for me! An aid to the disabled!" Archie lifted up a cushioned cylinder with handles on the ends, which started to rotate when he pushed a button. His dick fit into a groove in the middle, which was lined with soft knobs. As it rotated with increasing speed, Archie got more excited, until he thrust his hips forward and sprayed cum downward onto the floor of Junior and Beeb's dorm room. "Isn't that great?!" Archie exclaimed after he regained his composure, strings of cum still swinging from his penis.
"I guess so" sighed Beeb, wondering why his floor was always coated in fresh spunk.