The Pump House

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Big Tits

Inspired by an idea by enigma3 in the Forum.


They say size doesn’t matter, but when you are – whether by length or girth – within the smallest five percent of the population, it’s difficult not to feel self-conscious about it. It’s difficult to talk to women without imagining their horror, their amusement, their mockery, their contempt. Easier to avoid rejection and find refuge in porn and self-gratification.

And trust me, I did.

Until, at the age of thirty, and still a virgin, and yielded to the temptation offered at a local public convenience, a little-frequented hut in the park down the road from my flat. Ladies’ on one side; Gents’ on the other. And in the last cubicle of each, a hole. A gloryhole, indeed.

I’d seen it often enough. Indeed, it was a recurring fantasy of mine to use it. I had even, on occasion, heard men moaning lustfully while locked in that end cubicle, though I had never dared speak to them. Nor had I ever seen evidence that they were there with partners. They departed alone, no girlfriend sneaking guiltily from the other side.

The thought of some anonymous woman sucking my cock… even if she did laugh at my dick, she might still let me come in her mouth, and she wouldn’t know it was me.

And how better to celebrate my thirtieth than by daring this immoral treat? I didn’t masturbate for days leading up to it. I marched out there with more courage than I felt, was relieved to find that special cubicle empty, that hole still there. I dropped my trousers, my knickers too, and thrust my semi-hard cock through the hole.

I dreaded hearing screams of outrage from some unexpecting occupant, or laughter at my diminutive size. I expected really to hear nothing, for what were the chances of there being anyone there at all?

I heard nothing – save my own startled cry of pleasure as a powerful suction acted on me, and a soft, warm grip, a vagina perhaps, massaged the full length of my cock. “Oh, fuck, wow,” I said, trying to pull away so that I could thrust into that wonderful flesh, so that I could fuck it like it deserved…

But I couldn’t.

I could hardly move at all. The hold on my shaft was too strong – but I didn’t care because it felt sublime. In no time at all, I could feel myself approaching climax, Anadolu Yakası escort and try as I might to slow it down, to delay that inevitable end, I surrendered to a blissful orgasm, my cum pumping into that unseen orifice.

“Oh, thank you,” I said. “Thank you!”

I thought it was over. I waited for release. But I was wrong. I was still hard, and if anything the suction increased. My cock was massaged with mechanical determination, enhanced by subtle vibrations, and it finally occurred to me that I wasn’t being pleasured by a vagina or even a mouth, but by a machine.

“Fuck!” I hissed angrily, and fought to extract myself from the robotic trap, but it was useless. I was only hurting myself in the attempt – and meanwhile the manipulation of my cock continued, and damn but it felt good. Despite having come already, I could feel the potential for another orgasm.

“Fuck it,” I said, yielding, and leaned against the wall, concentrating on just how good it felt, even if I hated feeling so helpless. Slowly the tension built, the fierce suction and the insistent vibrations and massaging bringing me inexorably to a second climax, milking me of what little cum remained in my balls.

“Enough,” I pleaded as the last tremors of orgasm dissipated. “Enough.”

If anything the suction increased still further, but after a few seconds of pure anguish I was released. I fell backwards, my cock springing free, and I stared in horror at the steel cage that now imprisoned it. “Fuck!” I screamed. “No! Fuck!”

Dropping to my knees, I peered through the hole, but all I could see was an empty cubicle. Dressing hurriedly, I ran round and into the Ladies’, but there was no one. Outside there was no one in sight, nothing to explain who or how whatever the fuck had just happened happened.

Swearing and crying, I rushed home, determined to rid myself of the chastity cage even if it meant using a hacksaw or a diamond-tipped drill.

I tried. I really tried, but the steel resisted my efforts, and before I could do myself any real damage, and before I could get around to demanding help from the health service (or the fire service, for that matter), I noticed something that astonished me.

It was difficult to tell for sure, the steel cage Anadolu Yakası escort bayan being an obstacle to accurate measurement, but my erect cock – the cage didn’t prevent erections, it just prevented me doing anything with them – seemed longer. Thicker too.

Was it really possible? Had the gloryhole enlarged my penis with its powerful suction? Despite my rage at being subjected to the chastity cage, the mere possibility of penis enlargement thrilled me beyond measure.

I decided to go back. Maybe whoever had done this to me would remove it. Maybe they really did have a way to increase the size of my cock. I had to find out. Of course I did.

Exactly one day after that first stupid time, I was in that cubicle again, shoving my cock through the hole. Inside the hated steel cage I was already hard – as indeed I had been, on and off, since awaking that morning. And, indeed, much of the night. At times, almost painfully erect, and nothing I tried succeeded in delivering the orgasm I craved.

It was a hunger to feel that suction again that truly motivated my return. More than the wish to be free of the cage. More than the desire to be made more of a man. And when it gripped me again, gripped my cock with a ferocity like the vacuum of space, I moaned with satisfaction. In addition to that exquisite pressure, there was again the massaging of my cock, and the teasing vibrations.

A heavenly torment. I was a passive, willing victim. After hours of being desperate to free my cock and bring myself to a climax, this excitation brought me swiftly to an end. “Yes!” I cried as my cock jerked within that unyielding hole, my cum sucked away as if by a thirsting cumslut in a hardcore porno. “Oh God yes,” I whispered, imagining a huge-breasted blonde with her lips about my shaft, my cum pouring down her throat.

It wasn’t over. The suction intensified, pain perfectly balancing pleasure. The massaging sped up. The vibrations coursed along the length of my aching shaft, still hard, still eager. This time the hot blonde’s impossibly tight ass was working my cock and she was begging me to fill it with my thick, hot, creamy cum. “Oh yeah, babe,” I growled at the partition wall.

I lasted longer this time. It was a wonder my cock didn’t escort bayan explode from the stress of it. Certainly it felt like my cum exploded out from my pulsing member into the blonde’s beautiful ass.

Thoroughly drained, my balls aching as well now, I was released again. I staggered backwards, staring mournfully at my still-encaged cock, rapidly shrinking from exhaustion within its steel prison. Again I peered through the hole, but saw no one. I still had no idea who was doing this to me, or how.

I made my way home in a weary daze, not unhappy with the visit, even if frustrated with the chastity device. (I’m a professional. I meet people all the time. I have to travel, often abroad. Having my cock in a cage is a constant source of potential embarrassment.)

But also, once I was able to coax an erection in the comfort of my home, I was able to ascertain with some degree of confidence that I had indeed grown. No more than a few millimetres, in both length and girth, but if I were to be rewarded thus for each visit… Well, the accumulated effect would be well worth it.

So of course I went back. Again and again. Sometimes every day. Sometimes every other day. Over time I tracked the progress of my cock’s growth: four inches, five, six. Clearly the cock cage was increasing in size also, though its denial of orgasmic pleasure remained absolute. Seven, eight, nine,…

Truly blessed now, I didn’t need further growth, but like an addict I craved it. Cursed for so much of my life to be at one end of the scale, I dreamed of being at the other. I wanted to be one of those epically endowed porn stars that made even the actresses gasp in genuine amazement. That and the sheer pleasure of the hole’s demanding suction as it drained me of cum.

That and the hope that it would at last be satisfied with me and remove the cage that prevented me from using my magnificent new cock the way God intended.

A hope dashed the day I made my visit to the gloryhole and found a steel plate riveted in place. “No!” I cried, and rushed home to get hammer and chisel, but the plate proved to be bonded with adhesive as well as rivets. Weeping tears of frustration and loss, I trudged home.

I am a virgin still. Perhaps I could find someone to remove the chastity cage, but I still visit that hut in the park from time to time, to chip away at that steel plate with my hammer and chisel. Perhaps one day I will be free again to thrust my caged cock through the gloryhole, and be sucked again till my balls are dry.

Until then, I am satisfied that my cock is now the envy of all men.

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