The Machine

“We’ll need to get you a proper suit made,” Tina thought out loud as the elevator stopped and the doors slid apart. It took you a second to catch up to her, both her stride and her suggestion. She was talking about protection.

“How long would that take?” you asked, trying to tamp down future concerns by taking care of an immediate one. Doctor McGee brought up something on her datapad, flicked it away.

“Not long… the design and fabrication should be simple enough if we base it on an existing blueprint,” she said with assurance. “The machine can have it done before our patients return, barring some inexplicable emergency…” The Doctor almost wanted to pinch herself for tempting luck with such a statement, or maybe she was afraid to worry you about something impossible to predict.

“We better rustle up something quick huh?” you joked, really not nervous. Probably. She appreciated your lightness though and smiled.

“Yes. Let’s get you measured up.”

She stripped you naked. That is, Doctor McGee made you take off all of your clothes. Had you still been in the habit of wearing underwear that would have been removed too. Now you stood in the middle of another circular room with a friendly guardian floating near you, holding your folded outfit. It had just recently scanned your nude form with its little laserscanning arm. There was no use trying to cover up, even if your erection couldn’t help itself.

“This turns you on too?” Tina scoffed, a woman so used to seeing your hardness in full view she barely seemed fazed any more. Now she was even making jokes?

“Feels like my body’s not my own sometimes,” you said with a shrug. You probably should have been comfortable with the casual nudity too at this point of your career, but it was never not going to be strange to have your arousal on display to the doctor you liked so very much. There was a look that she gave you then. What you said had been a joke too, but there was a degree of truth to it that Tina could empathise with.

“I hope you know that you’re… “ she started, turning to you then her mouth stopped, as if her mind was on pause, and then she glanced away. “- Part of the team. It’s not just the service you provide that makes you important to us here. We value your mind too, your help with the research on the cure. Your insights on patient treatments. We value all of your contributions. I value you.” She cleared her throat then, pretending to have been focusing on a console she now faced and tapping a few keys.

An outline of your body appeared on the screen, your measurements marked clearly for all parts of the body that were important to protect. You were glad that this basically meant every part.

“We should definitely make sure you’re well padded here,” she noted, here being the broadly highlighted area around your groin. You agreed. She tapped some keys, caused some bleeps, then the fabricator hummed to life. The machine anchored to the wall was a series of hightech pegs and cogs, standing like an upright, technologically advanced loom. Instead of string it looked like wires and cords of circuitry were spun around the spindles. Into a shallow catcher near the base of the machine it churned out an oddly shaped, squarish plate of a flexible material.

Tina picked it up, weighing it in her hands for a moment before taking a knee beside you and pressing the fabrication to your crotch. It was surprisingly soft… supple even… and you quite enjoyed the amount of pressure the doctor was applying to your stiffened meat. You felt a specific shape of the thing cup your balls. “How does that feel?” she asked, adjusting her fingers to get a better grip of you. You noted that, while the unknown fabric of the piece was still warm from being fresh out of the fabricator, it completely shielded you from the heat of the woman’s hand. Other than that… it was hard to tell. “It might be too snug,” she decided for you, squeezing your junk slightly, which only caused it to swell more. “See? You’re not even fully erect yet.” She had a clinical way about her of course, but you caught that quick flicker of the tip of tongue when she absently licked her lips. “I know you get harder and bigger than this… hmm…” She pulled the makeshift codpiece away, then grabbed your bare member with her other hand. “I need you to get fully hard for me,” she said quietly, but professionally, giving you another warm squeeze and half a pump. Her touch and her nonchalant commands were certainly swelling more than your ego.

Her fingers slid down to your balls and she made as though she was weighing them, measuring them with her palm. “We want to make sure the suit doesn’t overheat you,” she went on. “Give your large testicles some room to breathe, so to speak.” You swear you felt the doctor’s breath caress your tumefying junk. For an extremely pleasant few seconds, Doctor McGee used her sense of touch to ‘eyeball’ the adjustments she thought would be best to best fit your package into the suit she would make for you. This involved a lot of manual handling… a lot of patient, full length cock stroking with her silky soft hands, the doctor doing her darnedest to ensure she got you to your thickest, hardest levels, to ensure she could ‘measure you’ at your most **** state of arousal. She almost managed it…

Doctor McGee was kneeling directly in front of you now, the test piece of fabric on the floor, her hands wrapped around your shaft. “Is this the hardest you can get, John?” she asked, looking up at you through slightly fogged glasses. There was just the hint of blush on the top of her cheeks. God she was beautiful.

“Probably… a little more…” you said, your voice quieter than you intended it to be but she heard you. She smiled.

“Well… we best make sure,” said the doctor. And then it happened. She leaned in. She kissed your cock. Your shock almost made the softness of her lips not register, but she did it a second time and you confirmed that this wasn’t a dream. It was a dream come true. You did get harder, feeling her breath, and the contact of her lushness brushing your skin. She didn’t stop at that. Her tongue slipped out, and she patiently licked your shaft from base to tip. You were an iron rod by this point, possibly the most swollen and erect you had ever been. Then Tina took you into her mouth. It was heaven, in a word. Unbelievable. The heat of her enclosed around you, the wetness of her spit had a density to it. The seal she formed with her lips around your girth. The suction. It was audible, the way she sucked your cock. And… it was brief. She was almost methodical in the way she felated you, each successive draw of your cock feeling better and better with the pressure and sensation she was applying. Suck. Suck. Suck. Suck. Then she stopped. She pulled you out of her mouth with a loud wet pop. “That’s better…” she said, ambiguous, nearly a sigh, then made a hand gesture that signalled a guardian to float over.

The robot pointed its own appendage at your slightly spit shined, bulging manhood, and blue beams of light sent lines across your genitals, taking a scan of you at your ‘peak’ arousal. You could only watch things happen for a few seconds, dumbstruck and blue-balled. Tina stood, brushing down the front and sides of her skirt in case there were wrinkles. Her lips were still glossy with her own saliva. She turned to regard the screen again. “That should take care of the little details, so to speak,” she managed to say without smirking. It was as if that wonderful fifteen seconds of your cock in her mouth had just been the obvious way to get you at your most hard… which technically was true. There was nothing more to it than that. Yeah, right.

But the other thing that all too brief experience told you was that Doctor Tina McGee, to put it indelicately, was a cock sucking machine. She had barely taken a third of your length past her lips but you could already tell… if her goal had been to make you cum, she would have given you the most toe curling orgasm of your life. How much of your crush on her factored into that prediction you couldn’t be sure… but man did she know how to suck a cock…

“Doctor Doe?” she asked, waving a hand in front of your out of focus eyes. When you did pay attention again she was pointing to the screen. “I believe this basic design of the suit will work as a start. Do you have any preference on the colour?”

The colour? You looked to the stiffly rendered mannequin of your body now ‘dressed’ in your soon to be protective outfit. She wanted to know what colour? You blinked at the screen, feeling her spit cooling off the tip of your dick. Colour you confused.