By Pickle

I woke up stretched out in a narrow spread-eagle over a large arch of some kind.  I had long fantasized about those medieval wheel-shaped racks, and wondered how long I could tough it out on one.  There was some deep, twisted part of me that truly wanted to know how much I could take on one of them.

Now here I was, stretched out fully, arms above my head, torso stretched tight, bent far enough backward that when I lifted my head I wasn’t able to see my legs beyond my upper thighs. I was naked.  During the period of blackness I’d experienced, these insect-like hombres stripped me and attached me to whatever I was on. The stretch wasn’t painful, but I was definitely stretched taut on this thing.

At first I thought they had tapped into my brain and found my kinky desire to be put to one of these racks.  Any time I wanted to rub one out fast I’d put a couple pillows on top of each other and lie arched backward over them presenting my gut “front and centre,” stretching my abs out.  If I poked or punched myself in the navel in that stretched-out position while masturbating, I’d usually shoot my load within a minute or two at most.  Saves time when you’re a horny guy but have a million farm chores to get done.

I looked to my left and saw Mike, the guy who won the infamous poker game, stretched out on a metal wheel just as I was!  I looked to my right, and another of my farmer buds who’d been at that poker party was in the same situation.  I could see a number of guys restrained the same way beyond them on either side, as well.

Then my gaze shifted straight ahead, and I saw my buddy Steve stretched out exactly as I was, across from me on this bizarre machine!  On either side of him restrained the same way were two more of my buddies who’d been at that poker party.  The ironic thought went through my mind that the farmers were being farmed.

I studied the situation further and realized that we were restrained to two concentric large wheels, like a surreal carnival ride.  Mike and I, and a bunch of other guys were on an inside wheel, while Steve and the other guys were facing us on an outside wheel … concentric circles of naked dudes arched and stretched and awaiting our fate.  None of us were able to speak.  That function had obviously been removed from us by what felt like the tube that had been inserted in my throat swelling up.  I’d seen inflatable gags online and thought this must be how they feel.  Totally filling your mouth. I tried to yell out, but absolutely no sound was emitted.  Silenced completely!  Not even a “Mmmmphhhh” could escape.

I heard a clank and felt my body stretch slightly more.  Then another, and as I looked at Mike I saw his body stretched tighter along with mine.  There was one more clank as we were all stretched one more time.  As I checked out my buddy’s faces they all looked as terrified as I knew mine must look.  Suddenly my head was “pushed” against the arch I was on, and I felt a padded metal shackle tighten down over my forehead.  Another padded shackle fastened itself over my neck, tightening enough to be just a little more than snug … pressing uncomfortably on my Adam’s apple.

I “felt” the words in my head from one of the strange beings that had captured us, telling me that they had read all my thoughts including my fantasies, and they knew I had a desire to be tested on a rack and that being arched and stretched made me extra horny.  They also knew that I masturbate a lot while lying arched over a few pillows while self-punching my gut.  I was “told” that since they want to obtain as much ejaculate from each of us as possible, that they would use our fantasies against us for their benefit.  They had read all of the other captured human males’ brains, as they had read mine, and our sexual fantasies would all be used to produce as much sperm for them as possible, at some point during our “stays.”

Our STAYS?

At this point I, and I assume everyone on this nightmarish “ride” was now “informed” we would be brought back to be milked on multiple occasions in the future now that their ship had come to our area of Earth.

They claimed that all of the men they had brought onto the ship had similar fantasies and that throughout our time onboard, and during upcoming subsequent visits, that we would be “treated” to each other’s fantasies, and have each of them used on all of us to extract our ejaculate.   Kind of a “what’s good for one, is good for all” approach to making us horny.  “Boys will be boys,” after all and most of us have a set of similar and possibly clichéd fantasies … captured by a Amazons and put through tests to see if you’re worthy as stud material for the tribe, PoW being softened up and also interrogated by sadistic guards, male nurses performing “procedures,” withdrawing sperm etc. for certain uses, pizza delivery man (“boom chicka boom boom”), horny guy in the laundry room, a Prince or King hitting on you as one of his knights, and other typical porn scenarios.

At that point I heard another “clank” and felt my body being pulled apart a little more.  Then another, and another until I felt like my ribs were being separated from my lower torso, and my arms were being wrenched out of my shoulder sockets.  I was in pain, but not in agony.  These intergalactic pricks seemed to know that just the right amount of pain would turn this particular specimen into a very horny prisoner.  I was terrified, but I also found myself enjoying my predicament to a point, and getting a very stiff boner, so I began to steel my reserves, and allow myself to go on this bizarre ride.  I knew there wasn’t anything I could do to get out of it anyway.  I’d always wondered how much I could take on one of these demonic drum-like torture devices, and it looked like I might be about to find out.

I could tell from the sound of the latest “clank” that it was happening on only my platform.  My buddy’s physiques were also arched and stretched, but they hadn’t had this added stretch put onto their bodies.  As it was happening to me I glanced at both Mike and Steve.  They both knew I had a tendency to enjoy getting roughed-up a little, and I saw the slight grins appear on their faces, even through their own terror from the situations they were in.  The fuckers were actually enjoying my situation.  Since I could only move my eyes … my head was totally trapped … I hoped I was misreading what I thought looked like smirks on their faces.

I heard another “whirr” and from somewhere above us these clear rectangular covers were being lowered over our platforms.  They enclosed each of our curved stalls like the lid of a butter dish.  When they made contact with the platforms we were laid out upon, there was a “ker-thunk” as they locked and sealed us in our individual chambers.

Once these lids were in place on each of us, the tubes that had been placed in our nostrils slowly extended from their hiding place inside our noses and attached themselves to the top of the clear capsule surrounding us.  I felt oxygen flowing through them and into my lungs. The tube in my throat extended and affixed itself to the lid.  I soon felt this warm trickle of some sort of liquid going down the back of my throat … they were feeding us something through this tube.  Again I “felt” a voice telling me, and I assumed all the other captive men, that this would provide us with sustenance, increase our libido and also the amount of cum we would produce.

In my case, instead of the word “cum” they replaced it with “pickle juice.”  They truly did access all recesses in my brain because they had apparently discovered I thought of my cum as just that.  My last name is Dill, so it just kind of seemed to make sense that since my buds all call me “Pickle” that I’d think of my jizz as pickle brine.  It was actually my buddy Steve who had some up with the name for it.  A bunch of us were in a circle jerk, and I came first.  Steve said, “Fuck guys!  That’s one helluva lot of “Pickle Juice” coming out of Dill!”  So from then on, every time I came it was “Pickle Juice.”

I barely had time to recover from the realization that they really did know everything about me. It was as if they had kind of “downloaded” my brain for their diligent perusal.

Suddenly I saw another tube eject itself from the transparent lid, of what now felt like my sarcophagus.  This time it went directly to my now extremely stiff cock and slid its way down my shaft to the very hilt of my “sword.”  Another slight “whirr” and it went into action … there was a second sleeve inside the tube that began a slow, teasing, massage from the base of my cock out to the tip.  It did this repeatedly every 3 or 4 seconds … the time between each stroke not being exactly the same each time, so I couldn’t get used to any sort of rhythm.  It had a vacuum that sucked and released, and sucked and released repeatedly, but the strength varied as did the feeling of little nubs inside the tube moving about much like short tentacles waving like live sea anemones.

This continued for what seemed like an eternity, making me squirm and writhe, as much as I was able to squirm in my stretched-out position.  It was a mind-blowing sensation … then I heard “Clank!” and felt another stretch on my already intensely stretched-out body.  I was definitely in pain now, and I began to understand that since that pain didn’t make my cock become flaccid, I must be one of those guys who gets off on it.  I had never actually thought that was true, even though I had many sexual fantasies about being punished and tortured, that I “brought out” when I masturbated in my big, comfortable bed at home.  Oh man, I was wishing that I could be back in that bed right now!

With that thought I heard another “whirr” … this time I felt the tube that had been implanted in my asshole extend and attach itself to the casing underneath me.  Then an almost pleasant warm gelatinous-feeling liquid was pushed into my insides.  The “voice” told me, and I assume the rest of the men in these capsules, that it would rid us of any and all excrement in our bowels and prepare us for prostate stimulation … to increase the power and number of our ejaculations.

I then felt something that felt like a round metal ball being pushed into my navel, then retracted and then pushed into my gut again.  The weight of this “punch” varied, and at times was pleasurable, and at times felt like a full-on punch from a heavyweight boxer.  I tried to see if this was happening to anyone else near me, but since my head was now immobilized I could only see a very narrow span.

Steve and I had horsed around gut punching each other from time to time, and I could just barely see that he too was receiving this same treatment in his gut.  I could see my buddy to my right was getting his navel pounded in this way too.  I hadn’t realized he liked gut punishment too.  Mike wasn’t getting this same “therapy” however, so I knew that the aliens had prodded their human cattle’s brains enough to know which guys navel stimulation would work on.

In my pod, the mace-like instrument pushed deep into my bellybutton and stayed there, with what felt to me like what must be at least 250 pounds of pressure. Then I heard a “clank” and felt the stretching results of the machine arching and pulling me apart even more.  Then the “mace” pushed into my gut even harder … then another “clank.”  This happened twice more, and I was beginning to become intimately acquainted with the meaning of the word “suffer.”

Once I was stretched to what I felt was my limit, just almost to the point of arms being pulled out of their sockets, the mace started punching my “sweet spot” once more.  I shot my first load and saw it being sucked through the tube, and out beyond my capsule.  I assumed it would join the cum from all the other guys on this bizarre merry-go-round in a general collection container of some sort.

Once the pickle juice had flowed out of me, there was another “whirr.”  This time two clear lenses came down from the top of the pod and were placed over my eyes.  Fitting themselves to my eye sockets perfectly.  As soon as they were in place the pod began to fill with a clear resin that seemed to harden around me.  I “heard” one of the aliens tell us that this substance would benefit us by treating our skin in such a way as to remove any undo aging and damage from our star’s light, and would not only make us look younger but also prevent any further skin damage in the future.  This resin, along with the “elixir” they were flushing into us through the tubes in our mouths, would also increase sperm production, quality, and help to increase the number of ejaculations they could extract from us.  I was able to see out of my pod as well as before the resin had been pumped in surrounding me.  I assumed that was the purpose of the strange lenses that had been placed over my eyes.

As I was now arched quite severely backward, it was difficult to see across to the other wheel that Steve’s pod was on.  I heard another mechanical sound, and both wheels moved.  I could still see enough to tell that Steve was no longer directly across from me but another of my farmer buddies was.  The aliens transferred the knowledge that this was to both build a sense of brotherhood with the other males who were being milked in this way, and also to make us understand we were all just farm animals being drained for their survival.

It was conveyed to us that the wheels would move, what would seem to us as every 15 of our “earth minutes,” and we would be facing a different male specimen each time.  This had the benefit of giving each of us some idea of how long we were on this bizarre Fair ride, as well as making us realize how many of us were suffering the same or similar plights.  Some of the guys I recognized from just seeing them around in the nearest town, others I knew as buddies, still more I’d never set eyes on, before seeing them naked in these pods.  All of us just “cattle” being milked.  A bizarre, nightmarish fraternity!

I lost count after I blew my load twenty times.  Each time my “pickle juice” left my body through the tube and out of my pod, it was more intense than any orgasm I’d ever felt before.  Totally mind-blowing and almost too pleasurable to handle.  The tube that was pumping the “juice” out of me felt like it was tickling my urethra from the inside out and it gave electrical pulses along with all the other stimulation it provided.

The feelings from all of the combined stimulation I was undergoing in this capsule were too much to comprehend.  All I knew was that this felt like the best sex I would ever have.  There was no way that anything normal would ever come close to this extreme manipulation of mind and body by these extraterrestrial beings.

As I was lying there, arched backward and stretched to the max, totally immobile, I realized no other sensation would ever provide as much sexual pleasure.  I remember wondering how there could be this much pleasure even through my terror, and the pain of being racked in my pod.  As each load was being pulled out of me I wondered how long this could go on.  With the fluids etc. that they were pumping into me and the resin surrounding me, how many times would I be able to cum?  Was this to be my life from now on?  If not, how long would these beings keep us trapped?  How long would they be “juicing” us for our life-giving sperm-filled fluid?  Would we ever be released?

Part of me wanted this to go on for infinity, I was beginning to get addicted to this combination of pleasure and pain, but I also wondered how long my body could sustain this kind of treatment.  Would my heart or other organs give out? In spite of what the aliens had told us about the health benefits we would receive in return for being their life-giving livestock, I couldn’t help but think this could very well be the end of my life.  At least my life as I previously knew it.

By the time I’d seen endlessly different guys rotate across from me in their pods, as our wheels turned in opposite circles, I’d fallen into unconsciousness.  It was like some surreal carnival ride.  I have no idea how long I was out … then I saw another nine guys pass opposite me.  More jizz being extracted from all of us, all the while.  I blacked out again.

To be continued…