The Iron Throat

The next two weeks are a blur for you, as you spend most of the time ****. You finally come to your senses confined in a large box. Your hands and feet seem to be attached to something, and you’re unable to move. You panic for a minute, calming down when you notice familiar slurping sensations at your cock and asshole.

You call out in the dark.“Hello? Anybody there? Where am I?”

A light turns on in the room. Looking around, you realize your body is confined up to your neck in some sort of machine. Your eyes light up as a familiar voice sings into the room.

“DAVID! I’m so glad you’re awake!” You turn your head, spotting Dr Bethany’s platinum blonde ponytail across the room. She claps her hands together and skips over.

“So David! I’m sure you have some questions right now. And that’s totally fine! But let me just give you a brief explanation before you start asking me things,” You nod, too busy enjoying the sensation on your dick to really listen. “So, we tried to treat your ACHS—and failed. Miserably. Sartre was the single leading researcher on this condition. If she couldn’t cure you, then there’s no one that can.”

“Wow…” you nod, bullshitting your way through this. “So is she ok?”

“Well, the initial seizure turned out to be pretty minor, we got her on some medication and she improved almost immediately. But, I’m afraid her ACHS has already spread to her brain. She seems to be convinced that we all live in a universe made to give you blowjobs.” You look away, attempting to hide a smile.

“So anyways,” she chirps. “This here is a slightly outdated treatment for ACHS. The chief of staff here didn’t like the idea, but I made a damn good pitch to the board to get authorization for this procedure. This here is what’s known as ‘The Iron Throat.’”

“The Iron Throat?” You mumble, slightly distracted by the slurping around your lower body.

“Well, yeah. See, it’s looked at as kind of a barbaric treatment these days. But the things is, when women get infected with ACCS they pretty much go brain dead after a while. Although their body still works and functions, their minds are consumed by a need for cock, until finally the disease disables their frontal cortex. The only way to slow this infection is by sucking cock; so, we decided to kill 2 birds with 1 stone. We attach female sufferers with male sufferers, keeping their bodies on life support.” You flinch, almost shocked at the depravity of this treatment. Almost.

“You’re telling me you turn them into fuck slaves? Like you use their braindead bodies to suck cock?” You stammer incredulously.

“Well sort of. I was able to get funding for this project because we are going to be preserving their bodies for future treatment, with the hopes that a cure can be found. So I wouldn’t technically call them brain dead, more like in a coma.”

You nod your head, it all makes perfect sense to you. “So… who’s in this one?” you ask.

“Well this one is actually a special model, you see, we updated the layout of it, rigged it up with some bells and whistles and gave it a speed function which I think you’ll like very much,” Bethany says all in one breath. “But rather than rattling off a bunch of mumbo jumbo I could just show you.”

Bethany presses a couple buttons on the Iron Throat’s screen and pulls the handle on your front side, raising a hydraulic door. Steam comes spewing out. As it clears, your eyes widen at the sight of Dr Sartre, buck naked except for a metal circlet around her head. A moving mechanical arm bounces her up and down on your cock with precision. If she is braindead, you can’t tell; she is quietly chugging away with a soft “guhguhguhguh.”

Jaw agape, you look at Bethany, unable to say a word. “Technology’s come pretty far huh?” She says casually. “We fitted her with a brain chip to fill in a few gaps, there’s a switch by your right hand that lets you turn up her vocalizations.” Without blinking you turn the switch as high as it’ll go. Bethany winces as Sartre’s soft gulping is replaced with a loud “GLARKGLARKGLARKGLARK.”

“So this brain chip, tell me more about it,” you ask politely over the sound of Sartre’s gagging.

“Yeah, the brain chip,” says Bethany. “For starters, we needed to keep her executive functions in place, breathing, absorbing nutrients all that good stuff. But we also expanded on what she can do, the machine gives us complete control over every muscle in her body. Unfortunately, the Board of Health wouldn’t let me give you admin access, but a couple of dials and a speed function can’t hurt.” Bethany reaches over you and turns a knob next to your hand.

“EEEUUUUGGHHHHHAAAOOOO….” You moan, as a thick wet tongue penetrates your asshole. You turn the dial all the way down.

Pale as a ghost, you turn to Bethany. “Who’s that?” you say.

“Why don’t you find out? There’s a big button next to the dial. Press that.” The machine begins whirring loudly, and Sartre begins to slide backwards. With a loud *POP* your cock slides out of her mouth. You hear the sound of gears turning, and the apparatus holding Sartre begins rotating.

A mysterious blonde woman with hefty DD cup breasts spins into view. With a hiss, the machine begins docking her onto your cock. Your eyes light up, her throat’s texture jogging your memory.

“Nelson!” You shout like a kid on Christmas day. The mechanical arm behind her head begins driving her head up and down. You close your eyes and reminisce on your little debacle at Bethany’s clinic. You walked into that establishment a bit less than a month ago, and you never would’ve dreamed that your doctor Nelson would end up bound to your cock for life.

Bethany puts her hand on your shoulder. “So first things first, we’re gonna have to get the Throat calibrated for you ok? Im gonna go over a few of its functions and we’ll get it dialed in just the way you like it.” She puts her hand on a dial.

You begin rattling off a long list of demands. “Ok saliva, I want that all the way up, I wanna be swimming in it. Puke, intermittent every 15 seconds, speed I want that turned all the way up too. I want the ass eater making circles with her tongue flat, make sure she gets some gooch too.” Bethany taps furiously at the screen, attempting to keep up with you.

“So just to be clear I got everything,” says Bethany. “Alternating gagging and swallowing, puke intermittent every 15 seconds, speed, saliva and volume all maxed out, andddd tongue play set to sloppy.” She clicks her pen and looks up at you.

Youre too encumbered by Nelson’s throat to respond. Her head is being mashed into your pelvis at an insane speed. Thick, never ending globs of saliva fall out of her mouth and onto your pelvis, where it drips down your ballsack and into Sartre’s mouth. The French whore’s freakishly long tongue is slithering around your asshole-region, slurping from your sphincter to the bottom of your balls. Nelson vomits, spraying you and Sartre with clear, liquid puke. The excess slop drips into a drain at the bottom of the machine.

“Where does that go?” You ask Bethany politely.

“I’m so glad you asked David! The slop pan drips down into the ‘stomach’ of the Iron Throat so to speak, where’s its recycled and fed back to the girls via IV. Obviously, they can’t live off their own juices forever, so we mix additional water and calories in before it’s IVed back into their body.”

“Wow, it sounds like they’re really cared for here,” you say sarcastically. You grit your stomach and fart in Sartre’s mouth. Sartre, who has now been relegated to anal duty, doesn’t even flinch. Her tongue flicks around the seam of your sphincter in tight circles, probing inside every 5 seconds as programmed.

Bethany, evidently aroused by all the schleppy facefucking, leans in and kisses you deeply on the mouth. The two of you embrace passionately, matching each other’s movements, darting your tongues in and out of each other’s mouths. She inhales deeply and grabs your face before pulling away and looking at you.

“I wanna see what your face looks like when you cum David. Give me what I want,” she moans in your ear. “Put a big fat fucking load in Nelson’s throat, you haven’t cum in two weeks David. She needs that fucking cum, feed it to her David. Fill her fucking throat up with your cum.”

You grip the handles by your waist tightly, ready to explode in Nelson’s throat. With a gasp, you press the Iron Throat’s ‘orgasm’ button and prepare for liftoff.

The mechanical hand slams Nelson’s face into your crotch, burying your cock balls deep in her gullet. The chip in Nelson’s brain triggers her gag reflex; wet slop begins streaming through her mouth and nose. The muscles in her esophagus squeeze and slide on your cock as you spurt your first rope into her throat. Instantly, the chip in her brain cuts off her gag reflex, and she swallows slowly in sync with your throb. The muscles in her esophagus contract at the same speed as your orgasm, quite literally milking the entire cumshot out of you.

As you pulse in her throat, you enter a sort of ‘flow state.’ You’ve had plenty of time in Blowjob Universe to hone your skills, and not only have you learned to hold yourself back from cumming, but you’ve actually gotten a grasp of maintaining an orgasm. After throbbing for over a minute, you look over at Bethany in disbelief.

“Incredible David, I mean incredible. A sustained orgasm?! This has never been seen before, let me get a camera so I can document this.” Bethany pulls out her phone and begins recording your throatpie.

You pulsate in Nelson’s throat for almost 25 minutes, brainlessly daydreaming about the first time you ever saw titties. Unfortunately, your daydreaming is interrupted by something squishy poking you. Nelson’s stomach has distended from the volume of cum she’s ingested, and her swallowing has grown a bit more labored.

“So like, let’s say she gets full, what do I do then?” You ask politely.

“Oh don’t worry about it David, we thought of everything! There’s a button to your left that’ll purge all of your cum from her stomach. I have to warn you though, it will detach her from your cock for a second.”

Still pulsing in Nelson’s esophagus, you’re weary of unhilting, scared that you’ll stop cumming if you’re not in her throat. Bethany notices your apprehensiveness, and smiles at you.

“Don’t worry David, since Im here I can help you out.” Bethany slides her hand down to your pelvis and presses the button. As Nelson is lifted, she begins jacking your cock hard, hard enough to keep your orgasm going. You shoot two or 3 ropes onto Nelson’s face before her movement stops with a click.

Nelson’s jaw opens wide, wider than you thought was possible, and a torrential waterfall of cum shoots out of her gaping mouth, drenching your abdomen with your own cum. Bethany, using your cum as lube, strokes your cock furiously, shooting more cum into the stream coming out of Nelson’s mouth. Your eyes roll back in your head as she mashes your cock, and your orgasm continues.

Nelson’s purge takes roughly five minutes due to the volume of semen in her stomach. As the last of it dribbles out of her mouth, the machine kicks back to life, slowly dropping her back down onto your cock. As much as you appreciate Bethany’s help, the best way to give a handjob is with your mouth.

“What’s gonna happen if I don’t purge her,” you ask Bethany, your eyes fixated on Nelson’s tits.

“I really don’t know to tell you the truth, I’ve never seen someone cum so fucking much. But if I had to guess, it’d probably just leak out of her nose or something,” says Bethany with her finger on her chin.

Satisfied and out of questions, you lean back and relax. Not everyone gets to cum in a porn star throat infinitely, and you thank your many blessings that you ended up here and not ‘get-fucked-in-the-ass’ universe or something. You’re not sure how long you want to stay here, at some point you’ll probably get bored and go find some other whore to ****, but for right now you are satisfied and satiated.