Being clinical, in a cup

You sighed and hated the fact that you had sworn an oath, something about doing no harm. You weren't his treating physician, that was a given, but you still had a duty to ensure that your actions, or inaction, did no harm. Now that you knew how dangerous a position he was in, you couldn't leave your father hanging and on the verge of **** at any moment. Cum addiction was a dangerous disease. In his case, cum was a hell of a ****. It was THE **** for him.

"Here..." you whispered finally and stood up, grabbing a specimen cup from the kit on the table and you walked behind a table to separate the two of you. You saw his eyes follow you and when he saw your free hand undoing your belt and zipper, a look of sheer gratitude appeared over his face.

"Thank you..."

You rolled your eyes but said nothing as your hand fished out your cock and you were internally disgusted at yourself being semi-hard already. There must be something sadistic about all of this, the fact that you were now perhaps the only one who could save your father and once his body consumed enough of your cum, he could never go back to any other person. In a way, though, you were both going to condemn yourself to having to deal with this man forever more while making him realize that without you, and your body really, he would never make it past a day without hurting. A week away from you? Might as well jump in front of a bus.

The motion of your hand stroking was met with the awkward but familiar sound of a man jerking off, your hand wrapped around your shaft and the speed and tempo was both to get you off as fast as possible and to get this over with as quickly as possible. He turned, a blush on his cheeks, and from the side, you got a glimpse of how much his body had changed since the last time you saw him. Despite your best efforts, though, your eyes traced over his head, his neck, looking at the shape and curve of his chest, the way his breasts stuck out from his body, his frame had shrunken and filled out in the right way to give him a very feminine, almost impossible, curve.

"Oh man..." you muttered, feeling your body tighten and your cock straining before you quickly managed to get the cup into place. "Fuck..."

The first rope of cum spewing from your body coated the inside of the cup and you watched, a bit ashamed, as it twitched and a second shot, even more than the first, spewed into the container. A third and the fourth shots filled the bottom up to a third, way more than what the average addict needed, and its texture was both opaque and near white, very much filled with hundreds of millions, if not near a billion, individual sperm.

Your father continued to look away as you shook yourself a little to make sure the last bits of cum were out before you fixed yourself and zipped up your pants. "Here," you muttered and handed him the container. He looked at it and took a hold with his hand shaking and looked more than a bit lost. "You have to ingest it, all of it."

He paused and for the briefest moments, you wondered in part if he would just chuck the whole thing. Instead, as you predicted, nature won out and he closed his eyes and opened his mouth. You watched as the cum inside slid down and the first drop touching his tongue elicited a very audible, feminine moan from his lips. His eyes were closed and his body tensed as the cum continued going into his mouth. Your father, completely caught up in the first, second, and even third stages of infection, brought the container to his lips and his tongue lapped the inside, getting as much of the lingering sperm from inside as possible. It would have caused you to laugh if it weren't sad and serious at the same time.

After the last bits were gone, your father remained still and silent while you cleaned up the test kit, saving the results on your phone, before you processed the rest of the sample and then disposed of it into the incinerator chute. Cum Addiction was too infectuous to permit regular biohazard disposal. You were somehow immune from the disease which, coupled with your copious and quality sperm production, made you a very high commodity indeed. Other researchers in other labs did not take it as seriously and you had heard stories of promising research being lost due to compromised personnel.

"Oh wow..." you looked back as your father opened his eyes and sighed contently. You knew the look, you knew what his body was going through, but it still didn't change the fact that this was your father now, a certified infected person, and you were the only badge holder who could help him, to keep him alive. "Look..."

You dashed off your address on a script from your pocket and handed it to him. "Here, this is my address. I live alone, go ahead and get your shit and I'll see you there. Looks like you can't run away from me anymore." The look of pain hit his face but the truth made him lose any ability to speak. As your hand touched the door, you paused and turned back to look at him one more time. "At least, this time, I'll know where you are."