He goes for an MRI

Chris was waiting for his MRI, the cool air of the hospital corridor doing little to soothe the familiar ache in his groin. He'd been scheduled for a brain scan to check for any neurological impacts of his huberit nemis, but his body had other plans. The pressure was building faster than usual, a dull throb that promised a significant release.

Dr. Evans, a young resident with dark hair and an impressively calm demeanor, was reviewing his chart. "Your last release was six hours ago, Chris. You're approaching the upper limit of safe buildup time."

"I can feel it," Chris admitted, shifting his weight. "It's going to be a big one."

Just then, a senior doctor, Dr. Harrison, walked by. "Evans, I need you in consult. The pancreatic cancer case is back."

Dr. Evans looked torn. "But Chris is ready for pre-procedure release, and his pressure readings are critical."

"Then get one of the nurses to handle it," Dr. Harrison said impatiently. "It's a standard release protocol. Stacy!" he called out to a young woman with a "Stacy" name tag who was adjusting her IV cart. "Handle Mr. Collins's release. Evans, with me."

Dr. Evans hesitated. "But she's new, Dr. Harrison. She hasn't been trained for high-volume subjects."

"She'll be fine," Dr. Harrison said, already walking away. "It's not rocket science. Point, squeeze, clean up."

Dr. Evans gave Chris an apologetic look before hurrying after Dr. Harrison. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she called over her shoulder.

Stacy approached cautiously, her eyes wide. "I've only done the simulations," she whispered, looking at Chris's already exposed erection. "The training dummy doesn't... move."

"It's fine," Chris said, though his balls were already turning a deep blue. "Just... aim for the floor."

Stacy pulled on a pair of gloves with trembling hands and began stroking him awkwardly. Her technique was hesitant, all wrist and no rhythm, and Chris could feel the pressure building to an unbearable level.

"Harder," he grunted. "You have to... oh god, here it comes!"

Panic flashed in Stacy's eyes. She looked around desperately for something to aim at, but the corridor was empty. Thinking fast, she yanked down the front of her scrubs and bra, exposing her pale, ample breasts. "Here! Quick!"

That was all it took. The sight of her bare chest sent Chris over the edge. With a guttural groan, he let go.

The first spurt was a thick, white rope that landed directly between her breasts, creating a perfect pearl necklace. The second and third waves followed, each one painting more of her chest and stomach until she was practically covered from collarbone to navel. A final, weaker spurt dribbled down her cleavage.

Stacy stared down at herself in shock, her breasts glistening and dripping. "Oh my god," she whispered. "It's... so much."

Dr. Evans returned at that moment, took in the scene, and immediately started making notes. "Fascinating! The volume exceeded projections by at least 60%. The visual stimulation of bared breasts appears to significantly increase release intensity."

Chris was slumped against the wall, panting. "I am so, so sorry," he managed.

Stacy just shook her head, mesmerized by the sheer amount of semen coating her chest. "No one told me it would be like... this." She poked a glob with her finger. "It's still warm."

Dr. Evans was already typing furiously on her tablet. "We'll need to log this as an unplanned but highly informative test. Stacy, go get cleaned up. Chris, I think we can skip the MRI today. Your pressure readings are back to baseline, and frankly, I'm curious to see if the visual stimulation protocol is repeatable."