Kota sat on the crinkling paper sheet of the examination table, the sterile white material sticking to the back of his thighs through his cargo pants, the faint chemical smell of disinfectant and latex gloves hanging in the air like a second skin.
The doctor's office was small but impeccably clean, the kind of clinical space that made every sound feel amplified, the soft click of the pen, the low hum of the air conditioning vent overhead, the distant murmur of voices in the hallway beyond the closed door.
The femboy doctor sat across from him on a rolling stool, legs crossed in that casual yet deliberate way that made his white coat ride up just enough to reveal the dramatic flare of his hips and the way his massive, shelf-like ass strained against the seat of his tailored slacks.
The beauty mark above his lips caught the fluorescent light every time he spoke, the green bob cut framing his sharp jawline and the thin wire-frame glasses perched on his nose giving him an air of quiet authority mixed with something undeniably attractive. Khalil sat beside Kota on a plastic chair, big hands clasped tightly in his lap, the lines of worry etched deep into his face as he listened to the diagnosis.
The doctor clicked his pen once more, setting the clipboard down on the small desk with a soft thud. "Mr. Abdel, if you wouldn't mind stepping out for just a moment," he said, voice smooth and professional, though there was a gentle note of privacy in it.
"I need to discuss a few sensitive details with Kota alone. It's standard procedure for cases like this."
Khalil hesitated, his broad shoulders tensing, but he gave a single, reluctant nod. "Yeah… alright. I'll be right outside." He stood, the chair scraping against the linoleum, and gave Kota's shoulder one last firm squeeze before stepping out into the hallway.
The door clicked shut behind him with a quiet finality, leaving the room feeling suddenly smaller, the air thicker, the only sounds now the faint buzz of the overhead lights and the doctor's steady breathing.
The femboy doctor turned his full attention to Kota, adjusting his glasses with one manicured finger before leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. "Kota, what I'm about to tell you is serious. Your condition, sporadic hypersperma, means your body is producing semen at an accelerated rate far beyond normal human limits. Most of the energy your system would normally use for basic functions like storing fat or maintaining muscle is being diverted entirely to seminal production. If you don't release at least five times a day, the pressure can build to dangerous levels. We're talking risk of testicular rupture, internal bleeding, even permanent damage if it's left unchecked for too long. The body simply wasn't designed to hold this much."
Kota's stomach dropped like a stone, the words hitting him with a cold, heavy weight that made his skin prickle.
Five times a day.
The number echoed in his head, mixing with the constant, throbbing fullness he had been feeling since the changes started.
He sighed deeply, the sound long and exhausted, shoulders slumping as he stared at the floor tiles between his sneakers. Part of him had already braced for the worst, that the only "treatment" would involve bending over the doctor over this very examination table and letting the hot, big-assed doctor take care of him right here in the office.
The thought sent a confusing mix of dread and reluctant heat through his groin, his new, thicker cock twitching once inside his pants at the mental image of those plump cheeks spread wide while the doctor's green bob cut bobbed between his legs.
But the doctor reached into a drawer instead, the sound of sliding metal cutting through Kota's spiraling thoughts.
He pulled out a fleshlight, a sleek, realistic-looking sleeve in matte black silicone, the entrance molded to resemble a tight, puckered hole with soft, It looked high-end, the kind of toy designed for serious, repeated use, the inner sleeve already lightly lubed and glistening under the lights. The doctor held it up casually, as if it were nothing more than a medical instrument, and set it on the desk between them.
"You don't have to involve another person if you don't want to," he said, voice calm and matter-of-fact, though his cheeks carried the faintest blush.
"This is a high-capacity model. Go to the back room, there's a private space with a lock and a comfortable chair. Use it until you've cum five to ten times. That should relieve the immediate pressure and give us time to monitor your levels. Take as long as you need. No one will disturb you."
Kota stared at the fleshlight, a strange mix of relief and embarrassment flooding through him. He took it from the doctor's hand, the silicone cool and slightly yielding under his fingers, the weight of it surprisingly substantial.
He stood up slowly, legs still shaky from the earlier ache, and followed the doctor's gesture toward a small door at the back of the office. The back room was quiet and dimly lit, just a single reclining chair, a small sink, and a box of tissues on a side table. Kota locked the door behind him with a soft click, the sound final and isolating.
He sat down heavily on the chair, the leather creaking under his weight, and stared at the toy in his hands for a long moment. His cock was already stirring again, the constant fullness in his balls making it impossible to ignore. With a deep, resigned breath he pushed his pants down to his ankles, the cool air hitting his heavy, swollen sac as he lubed the fleshlight and lined it up.
He started slow at first, the tight silicone entrance stretching around his thickened head with a soft, wet pop, the inner texture gripping him like a warm, eager mouth. He thrust upward, the chair rocking slightly, the wet schlick-schlick-schlick of the toy filling the small room as he chased release after release. One orgasm rolled through him, thick ropes filling the sleeve until it overflowed and dripped down his shaft.
He didn't stop.
The second came faster, the third even quicker, each one leaving him panting and trembling but the pressure barely easing.
By the fifth he was sweating, hips snapping up harder, the toy making filthy, squelching noises as it struggled to contain the sheer volume.
The sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth — he lost count somewhere in the haze, the room spinning slightly as his balls kept producing more, the ache refusing to fully subside until he forced the tenth load out with a broken groan.
When it was finally over, Kota sat there for a long minute, chest heaving, the fleshlight still clutched in his hand, the once-pristine toy now visibly stretched, the entrance gaping slightly and leaking a steady stream of his cum onto the floor. He cleaned himself up as best he could at the sink, pulled his pants back on, and stepped out of the back room, the fleshlight held awkwardly in front of him like a broken trophy.
He entered the main office again, the doctor looking up from his notes with a polite, expectant smile. Kota held the toy out, his voice small and embarrassed as he stared at the floor.
"I um… I broke it."