The Deprivation Tank
Not much was said as Professor Wilburn and his former student made their way to the off-campus facility. Partly because the mature elephant was focused on driving down various unmarked backwoods roads and partly because the college-age horse didn't have much to say to his former psychology professor.
They hadn't spoken since Mark had barely passed the man's class the previous semester with the uninspiring grade of C-. At the time, the student had wondered whether the man had bumped his grade up to passing just so he wouldn't have to risk suffering through trying to teach the unteachable the following semester.
The young man had recalled that the professor had occasionally chided him about being more interested in "chasing ass" than "learning about the brain." It was true, insofar as it went. That had been a very good year for Mark, in terms of "extracurricular activities" of the sexual variety. The professor might have almost failed him but the jock's lovers had all given him rave reviews.
The only reason the two of them were sharing a car now, driving in what one might charitably call a "companionable silence" was that the professor had approached Mark just an hour before, distraught that one of his paid research volunteers had dropped out at the last moment with no notice.
Mark had listened to the bookish elephant gruffly complain about the unfortunate circumstances, but his attention had perked up when Professor Wilburn showed him the envelope containing five thousand dollars in cash that he'd already pulled out of the grant fund to pay the other boy. Seeing Mark's eyes go wide at the sum of money being fanned about in his face, the professor inquired whether his former student would be interested in filling in, at the last moment.
The experiment would only last for a single day, the man explained, but they'd need to depart for the research lab right then. Time was of the essence. Not having "come from money" unlike many of his fellow peers, the horse found himself hopping into the passenger side of the professor's car before fully considering the situation. Five thousand dollars for a single day of work was just too good a deal to pass up, even if that work was participating in some boring psychology study. A subject that had never interested Mark.
As the two began to undertake their journey to the experiment site, the professor expressed profound gratitude that Mark was willing to help him out with such short notice. The mature adult assured the much younger student that his altruism was in keeping with the finest traditions of nobility and valor. Even as the man verbally applauded the youth's "pure intentions", he handed over the envelope full of cash and invited the horse to pocket "half now", assuring him that the other half would be given upon completion of the one day experiment.
Mark, marveling at the cash, barely heard the man. This was the most money he'd ever held in his hands and the unexpected windfall made him forget to ask even the most basic questions like, 'where are we going' and 'what exactly is this experiment'?
Luckily for him, Professor Wilburn was one of those teachers that seemed to love to hear themselves talk. As they drove, the man filled him in on the particulars in far more detail than the student cared to hear. The boy gleamed that they were driving to an offsite facility that housed a state of the art deprivation tank. Having spotted Mark's confused look out of the corner of his eye, the professor went on to explain the structure and nature of the deprivation tank.
Hearing about the large heated pool of water, Mark grew nervous for the first time.
"Wait," he prefaced as he led into his question. "So, I won't be able to see or hear or feel? Or anything? For, what, a whole day? I can't even listen to my music or podcasts?"
"Just so," the elephant replied, as if pleased with the student's answer after the youth was called on in class. "The study's intent is to monitor your brain's reactions upon depriving it of external stimulus for a set period of time. The data will be very interesting to me and valuable for the study. For you, participation will mostly mean a day of relative boredom. But that's why this volunteer research job pays so well."
Somewhat more glumly than before Mark mumbled, "Okay. I see." He hadn't been sure what he'd been signing up for, but he'd assumed that he'd either be kept busy for the day or, barring that, he'd at least have his phone to keep himself distracted.
He didn't like the idea of floating around in a pool, completely cut off from his senses. But he figured that, worst case, he could always stand up in the pool and give up on the money. This thought comforted him as he returned his thoughts to all the ways he might spend five thousand tax-free dollars.
The elephant kept talking but Mark mostly ignored him. Instead he thought about buying movies. A new TV. Alcohol. Condoms. A pizza party or maybe a dinner out at a nice restaurant. Video games. And even after buying all that, he'd still have lots of money left over. Looking out the passenger side window as the forest trees went by, Mark smiled to himself. This could be shaping up to be the best month ever, he thought to himself as day-dreamed.
Professor Wilburn noted aloud that they arrived, parking the car in front of a nondescript building. Seeing Mark's eyebrow rise at the lab's somewhat shabby exterior, the elephant shrugged and explained, "Unless you're a sports program, the college isn't overly generous with their funding so I had to pick between pretty and practical. I'm lucky to have this off-site facility at all."
The horse shrugged as if to say "Yeah, yeah, okay" and "Don't look at me -- I wasn't complaining."
Once they were inside, the college professor turned on the surprisingly spacious lab's warehouse-like lights and faced Mark. Clapping his hands together as if to signal that it was time to get to work the man said, "Let's get started. I need twenty-four hours worth of data so the sooner we start, the sooner you can back to... whatever it is that you college kids do."
Still looking around at the indoor space which was filled with various equipment and a sizable above-ground pool, the young man asked, "What do you need me to do?"
"You can keep the boxers on, but the rest of your clothes need to be set aside during the experiment. You'll be wearing a wetsuit instead. Your phone and your wrist watch can go in the tray there. I recommend powering down your phone to conserve its battery."
The horse was tempted to turn around to face the wall as he took off his clothing but decided against it because there was no point. The professor was focused on setting up and turning on the equipment and, besides, Mark had never been particularly shy about showing off his body.
He took off his clothes and his watch, but kept his phone for the time being. He wanted to shoot off a quick message to his roommate to let the other boy know not to expect him back until tomorrow. But the message refused to go through which caused Mark's nostrils to huff in silent frustration.
"Mark?" Professor Wilburn asked in a polite manner that still managed to come off as pushy. "If you would be so kind as to lay down on the table, we'll get you suited up."
"Ummm, yeah. Sure thing professor. I was just trying to send a quick text to let my roommate know where I was. But, I'm having some trouble..."
The elephant nodded and said, "Aha, yes, about that," stepping up and squaring his shoulders as if to speak in front of a class. "Apologies, young man, but I believe you'll find that there's no reception out here," the elephant coolly lied, supplying the fabrication that he'd readied for just such a question. "Here's a piece of paper. Write down the name, number, and message for the person you're trying to contact and I'll message them on your behalf. But again, this experiment will only last a day."
"...Right. Okay. Thanks professor."
Turning the phone off with a sigh, the horse set it in the tray with his watch before stepping up to the mid-height table. After a moment's hesitation Mark hefted himself up and settled in. The wetsuit -- or, the back half of the wetsuit -- had already been laid out and so the student lined up his buttocks with what looked to be the ass area of the outfit.
"Now, settle your arms and legs into the suit aperture and we'll get you strapped in," the man said, his voice encouraging. His forehead perspired lightly with the heat of the room whose air conditioning had only begun to kick in. At least, that's what Mark assumed was the reason the elephant looked slightly agitated.
As he settled him into position, the youth noticed the various straps, buckles, and length-adjustable fasteners.
"Why do I need to be strapped in?" he remarked, more annoyed than uncomfortable.
"The straps and semi-rigid wetsuit are for your benefit and comfort. They'll ensure you maintain the right density-to-surface-area ratio so that you'll float effortlessly on the water's surface."
Mark wasn't perusing a science degree but he supposed that sounded like a reasonable enough physics explanation to him.
"I guess that makes sense. But what if I have some kind of an emergency? Or I have a panic attack or something?"
"You needn't worry. In such an event I will be sure to take appropriate action. And while this is a lab experiment, none of this equipment is experimental. The sensory deprivation tank, the suit, and the like have all been thoroughly tested and vetted. As I mentioned on the ride over, you'll be floating atop the water rather than being fully submerged."
Without waiting for Mark's go-ahead signal, Professor Wilburn began strapping him in place, starting with his legs and moving headwards from there. The man's hands moved with practiced ease as if he knew by heart where each strap lay and just how tight to adjust it.
The jock's powerful thighs were strapped into the rigid wetsuit as he looked on in growing apprehension. The professor hadn't mentioned 'getting strapped down' as being part of the deal and the omission seemed glaring and ominous. Becoming concerned, he opened his mouth to ask if this many fasteners was really necessary but the professor spoke up first.
"Tell me, Mark, do you have a special someone in your life right now? A girlfriend, perhaps? Or a boyfriend."
Distracted by the unexpectedly personal question, the horse's own question died before being spoken. He paused for half a beat to consider his response before answering, "Not really. Not right now, anyway."
"That surprises me. A handsome jock like you? Surely you've been approached by peers who were sweet on you?"
Always happy to have an excuse to brag, the horse coyly smiled as he replied.
"Oh, well, if we're talking sex then sure. I do alright."
Legs secured, the elephant began working on locking down Mark's chiseled stomach and chest. As he did, Professor Wilburn chuckled good-naturedly.
"Merely alright? No need to be modest, boy. Just between us guys, what's the most lovers you've had in a single week? Apologies for the intrusive question but as a professional psychologist I find the topic of mate-selection fascinating."
"What, you mean hook-ups? In a single week? Maybe three? Not that I'm trying to gloat about it."
"You have every reason to brag," the man said, tying down one of the student's buff arms before swapping over to repeat the process with the other. "You're an impressive specimen, worthy of my time and energy. I chose well."
Mark blushed, momentarily flustered just long enough for the man to lock down his sole remaining arm. And with it, the man had removed the boy's means of freeing himself. The jock was too wrong-footed by the compliment to notice or intervene. He'd always been a sucker for praise.
"Okay, I have you locked down. I'll do a pass to tighten the straps, but everything looks secure. Try to escape for me?"
The words struck an unpleasant cord in the jock's head. 'I have you' and 'try to escape' were particularly discordant within his mind. Wearing only his boxers and with his arms and legs stretched wide, Mark suddenly felt exposed and uncomfortably vulnerable.
"Ummm... Yeah. I seem pretty stuck in place. You really went overboard, jeez."
Casually laying one of his hands so that it rested on the horse's straining thighs the man asked, "You're a strong boy, so I didn't want to take any chances. Are you still feeling comfortable?"
Not in the slightest, the jock realized. He started to pull at his bindings, too distracted by the straps to notice that the man's hand was palming an area of flesh that was inches away from his crotch. The horse strained gently at first and then more firmly when the stiff wetsuit refused to give.
More annoyed than worried Mark grumbled, "Well, the suit is a little stiff. I don't think I can move my arms. Or legs, for that matter. I can barely turn my head. Fuck, I feel almost helpless here."
Despite his well-muscled form, the horse found that he couldn't shift his limbs out of the spread pose that the stiff water-proof material enforced upon him. And with the straps tightened and buckles fastened, he felt trapped in place. Mark didn't like this. He didn't like it at all.
"There's no 'almost' about it, young man. But if it makes you feel better, you look fantastic in bondage. Your strong body contrasting against the industrial-grade straps make for a uniquely appealing display," Professor Wilburn commented as he began to rub and stroke the student's inner thigh. The elephant's hand was just inches away from the bottom edge of the boy's undergarment. "I bet if one of your lovers could see you right now, they'd rip off your boxers, mount you, and give you the ride of your life. You'd have no way of stopping them from having their way, would you?"
The youth was beyond uncomfortable now. He was trying to think of a way to tell the older man he wanted out of the experiment that wouldn't anger the elephant. Pangs of regret ripple through him as he realized that he'd been so focused on the money that he'd barely paused to really consider the situation. And now he was alone in some building with Professor Wilburn, unable to move. Plus, no one knew where he was. He hadn't even been able to send a text message to his roommate. Alarm bells were beginning to ring inside his head.
Taking his hand back, Professor Wilburn said, "Apologies, I've made you uncomfortable. Let's continue on. If you'll close your eyes and open your mouth, we'll get the sensory deprivation hood on. From there, it will be just twenty-four more hours of your time and we'll send you on your way. After I get the hood in place, I'll take a moment to put the rest of the cash in your pants' pocket."
Right. The cash. The five thousand dollars.
Mark breathed deep, forcing his muscles to relax as he mentally told himself to calm down and stop being so paranoid. The student reminded himself how great the money was. How much a broke student like him could really use it. And despite being the eccentric type, Professor Wilburn was one of the most respected instructors on the campus. This was fine. Everything was going fine. He could do this. Twenty-four hours. Just one day.
Taking steadying, calming breaths he allowed his mouth to open as he clenched his eyes closed. Mark decided that if the elephant wanted to admire his body, that was fine by him. The man would hardly be the first teacher who'd appreciated him for his time in the gym.
Professor Wilburn smiled, thoroughly pleased at his former student's compliance. These moments before the hood was settled in place represented the last opportunity for objections, yelling, screaming, or threats. The elephant was proud of himself for getting through the binding process without so much as a single cross word uttered from the boy.
Up until now, he had assumed that he was going to need to give the jock's balls a series of vicious squeezes to force the lad to open his mouth for the feeding tube. Seeing his former student close his eyes, open his mouth, and ready himself to accept whatever the professor gave him made the elephant's member surge to life in his khakis.
Keeping his voice professional the man said, "You're going to feel the feeding hose pass between your lips. Just let it slip over your tongue as I settle the hood in place. There's a good boy."
What the professor failed to mention was that the feeding hose happened to be an exact replica of his own erect cock. Indeed, it had taken many attempts with a plaster molding kit to get the flexible but lifelike dildo to come out just like he wanted it. And now this 'feeding tube' was mounted on the inside of the hood, facing inwards.
Professor Wilburn felt a delicious thrill run through him as he slipped the cock-mold into the boy's mouth and towards the entrance of his throat in one smooth, sure push. The elephant then used both hands to settle in place, using his grip to carefully hold the hood in place as he waited for Mark's inevitable reaction to his oral violation.
It took the boy a moment to realize the true nature of the thing being stuffed between his parted lips. Too late to do any good, adrenaline pumped through his veins he tried and failed to sit up. To raise his hands. To whip his head free of the oral intruder. To do anything at all to defend himself.
"Calm yourself, Mark," the elephant urged as the jock's head shifted back and forth as he used his limited range of motion to try to dislodge the molded dildo filling his mouth. "Deep breaths, now. Steady yourself. You're okay, boy. Everything is going to be fine."
Professor Wilburn was sure that the college boy would be cussing up a storm were that still possible. After all, what he'd just done represented a shocking betrayal of trust and a stunning breach of the usually sacred student-teacher relationship. There would be no explaining this away and nothing the elephant said at this point would make things "okay" between them. The man understood that he'd just destroyed whatever trust and good faith had been built up and accepted that sacrifice as necessary.
And since the damage was already done, there was no reason not to enjoy this moment. Seeing that only one hand was needed to keep the hood in place, the man used his other hand to stroke the straining lad's chest, stomach, and crotch. He reached between the youth's legs and cupped Mark's balls through the boxers. He touched them, treating the pair like his possessions as he became familiar with their shape and size and heft. Blinded behind the hood, Mark grunted and huffed in protest.
"You're doing well. Take all the time you need, lad. How's that taste in your mouth? And the size? Feels substantial, doesn't it. This must all be a shock, I know. Focus on your breathing and you'll be fine. Feel the weight press against your tongue. Allow yourself to relax as my hand explores your body."
Even as he spoke in a calming, reassuring tone he continued to grope and play with the jock's flexing, struggling body. Nipples were tweaked and tugged. Navel fingered and explored. Straining abdominal muscles were rubbed and stroked. Thighs were palmed and pampered. And boy balls were thoroughly enjoyed and inspected. Only the cock was left alone for the time being. Not out of any sense of modesty. Rather, Professor Wilburn was saving the best for last.
Several minutes of playing with the boy's body later the psychologist commented, "Good, your pulse is starting to normalize. Did you know that it can take over an hour for the effects of an adrenaline spike to fully dissipate? In contrast, only fifteen are needed for the initial intense fight-or-flight response pass. But as I said, there's no rush. I'm enjoying watching you settle into your wetsuit. You're quite sexy, do you know that, Mark? That's the primary reason I selected you for this experiment. It certainly wasn't for your intelligence."
The horse made throat noises as if trying to speak or form words but the over-large dildo made that impossible. Still, Professor Wilburn appreciated the effort. The elephant understood that even attempting to speak must mean that the jock's tongue writhing against the artificial cock stuffing his face. It pleased the man that the boy was fellating the muzzle-stuffer, even if the act was unintentional.
"Mark, are you listening? I want to play with your body some more. To take things further by turning it into my private toy. So what I'm going to do is buckle a couple of the hood's straps to hold it in position. That way I can use both hands to fully explore your cared-for body. Don't worry, you'll still be able to hear until the hood is locked fully into place."
But Mark wasn't paying attention. He was struggling and yelling and carrying on. At least, right up until he felt a hand press up his thigh, under his boxers, and grab his balls. Feeling the most vulnerable part of his body taken in hand like this made him gulp around the dildo. That's when the jock began to listen carefully to what the elephant had to say.
"Have you ever had your balls played with like this, Mark? They're a lovely pair. What you're feeling right now is that I'm slipping my hand under your boxers. Don't be alarmed. I just want to feel you, skin-to-skin. Surely these low-hangers are deserving of a more personal touch."
The professor's self-confidence unnerved Mark nearly as much as the hand gripping his sensitive gonads. The man was toying with him as if he were sure he'd never have to face any consequences for this outrageous betrayal of trust. The horse was torn between shouting at the man, begging for mercy, and whimpering pathetic questions like, 'What are you going to do to me?' But the indecision was a pointless thought experiment because the gag rendered him mute, aside from some muffled groans of protest.
Now that his initial freakout was passing, Mark tried to calm him himself and assess the situation. But a detached, logical analysis of the situation was nearly impossible while the older man pet and stroked his balls, the professor rolling the orbs back and forth in his palm as if he were trying to assess their worth or guess their weight.
Several more minutes passed as Professor Wilburn brought both hands to bear underneath the jock's boxers as he polished and played with the boy's sack. Evidently pleased the college youth had temporarily paused in his futile attempts at resistance, the man spoke once more.
"It appears you've calmed down enough to listen. That's good. We've much to discuss before I lower you down into the deprivation tank. Let's start with the hood. More specifically, the feeding tube."
Mark grunted loudly at the words 'feeding tube'. The clinical words didn't properly convey the sordid debasement of his mouth and so he felt it necessary to convey his contempt. The elephant ignored him.
"Allow me to pause a moment to explain its function. This tube -- Well, let's call a spade a spade -- This dildo is how liquid nourishment will enter your body, food and water both. As you've likely guessed, it's a mold based on my endowment. This detail wasn't strictly necessary for the experiment, but it pleases me that you'll have a keepsake of me while you're floating in the tank."
The hooded boy's muscles vibrated in fury and his breathing grew ragged at the explanation.
"As long as this hood is locked onto your head, your lips will be wrapped around the durable, bite-proof shaft. During the experiment this rod will sustain you by feeding and hydrating you. Since regular food and water intake are critical for your continued wellbeing, you could say that you'll be sucking on my cock for dear life."
The man chuckled at his own bad joke. Mark felt so angry he thought he might kill the elephant, if he could only free himself. The horse had heard enough and began trying to dislodge the distinctly molded feeding tube. He grunted and twitched as he breathed in huge lungfuls of air, his blood oxygenating in a doomed attempt to empower his muscles enough to break through the bindings.
Rather then being angry or irritated at the jock's far-too-late resistance, the professor found the horse's straining terribly erotic. It was so pleasing to the elephant that he felt like giving the horse a reward of sorts.
"While you learn to accommodate my girth stretching your jaws apart, allow me to examine your own equipment. Pardon my forwardness, but I'm going to remove your boxers. You won't be needing them anymore and I've been wanting to see you bared and exposed for a while now. Any objections?"
The horse strained even harder upon hearing this. He grunted and hollered beneath the hood which rendered him blind and mute and partially deaf.
"Don't worry, I'll be careful with the fabric shears. Your tender bits are safe in my hands, Mark."
Having come prepared, Professor Wilburn made quick work of the lad's boxers. As he pulled the soft material away the man didn't delay in taking Mark's softie in hand, his fingers embracing the flesh as comfortably as if it were his own. The horse's muscles tensed and bulged at the unwelcome touch. He tried pulling away but didn't manage to budge his hips by even a single inch.
"Soft? That won't do. You're a horse, aren't you? You should have no reason to be shy. Or are you one of those unlucky equines who inherited a stub rather than a club? If so, that would be a disappointing discovery. I selected you with great care and put in a lot of effort in procuring you, so it's only fair that you compensate me for my time by showing me a big one. I'll warn you now that if it ends up being small, I reserve the right to spend the next few hours punishing the little thing. Hopefully this sort of disciplinary action won't be necessary."
Mark gulped and whined as the professor got to work. What the elephant lacked in technique he made up for in thoroughness and determination. The horse's flaccid member was tugged, squeezed, pulled, fingered, and jerked off. Long minutes passed like this but it became clear to the boy that his kidnapper had no intention of giving up until he got what he wanted.
"Trying to hold back? You are free to resist, of course, but you're hardly the first student I've had to encourage into full arousal. Here's an interesting fact: I make my course exceptionally difficult on purpose, to increase the likelihood that teenage boys will visit me during office hours. Desperate and despondent, they come in to grovel and plead for an opportunity to improve their grade. You'd be amazed at what students are willing to do to avoid disappointing mommy and daddy."
As hot panic was replaced by cold fear, the horse was starting to understand just how wrong his impressions and assumptions about Professor Wilburn had been.
"Not you, though. You'd have rather failed my class rather than come to me in need. Stubborn boy. And here you are, stubborn again. But this time, I really must insist. Give up, Mark. Show me what you kept hidden underneath your layers of clothes. You teased me with that body of yours all semester long. Now I'll have my answer. Are you a hero or a zero where it matters most?"
The jock refused to play along. He held himself back as he reminded himself how much he hated this man who had tricked him and lied to him. And, to the youth's credit, he held out for a surprisingly long time.
But the man had the clear upper hand here. If that took hours to achieve, so be it. Running both hands up and down the limp penis, Professor Wilburn didn't think he'd need that long. He knew from experience that boys like Mark always 'ran hot'. That their labidos were naturally inclined to say 'yes' to an insistent, motivated touch. And again, it was just so in this case.
Nearly thirty minutes into the effort, the psychologist smiled as the horse shaft began to twitch and grow. Below the slowly growing unit, the jock's balls began to rise and fall in slow but steady rhythm.
"Feel that? You're losing the battle. Once a boy begins to grow hard it's only a matter of time. Are you enjoying having my grip on your love-muscle, Mark? I'm turning your thickening rut-pole into a toy. My toy. Give in. Submit. You owe me an erection and it's high-time you delivered."
Mark couldn't see but he could certainly feel. And that alone was enough to confirm that the man's words were true. Upon chubbing up, it had only taken a few additional shame-filled minutes for him to grow fully hard. Nerves and pleasure centers coming alive, his captor's firm steady grip started to feel amazing on his rigid equine arousal. The student hated how good the man's invasive touch felt.
"Yes. Good. Excellent, I'd say. You're even larger than I'd hoped. An impressive horse cock, for an impressive boy. A veined beauty wrapped in velvet-soft skin. Perfection. You're a true stallion and a marvelous masculine specimen. I'm happy for you, Mark. I truly am. And it looks like I won't be needing my bag of disciplinary instruments after all. In my classroom, winners like this get praised -- not punished."
The bound boy had no clue what the man had been planning to do had he come up 'short', but he was relieved he wouldn't have to find out. Yet this was another nerve-wracking reminder that he was powerless to prevent Professor Wilburn from doing whatever the elephant wanted to do to him.
These unpleasant thoughts were swept out of his head as the man began aggressively pumping his shaft with one hand while the other tugged at and played with his balls. Mark wished the man would stop. That he'd let go. But the further things went here, the more unlikely that felt. The talkative man seemed to have a plan and that thought scared the jock down to his bones.
"What thrilling college experiences you must have had with this. Fun alone. Fun with partners. Did you enjoy watching their eyes widen in surprise and delight when you tugged this out of your shorts? I bet some of them started having second thoughts as you began to push in."
Mark tried to mumble a reply, hoping the man would take the hint and free his mouth so that the two of them could have a 'discussion'. But the elephant ignored him and kept on talking as he stroked and tugged and otherwise played with the boy's long, jutting stiffness.
"And speaking about experiences, have you ever had one of your teachers go down on you? I normally don't offer this privilege to students -- Certainly not C students like you -- But this meat's quality merits making an exception. I'll make it good for you, to reward you for showing me such a pretty thing. What do you think, Mark? Time enough for a blowjob before we lower you down into the tank?"
Again the defenseless horse communicated his vehement objections but as before the man took no notice. He'd worked harder to arrange this set of circumstances and would not be denied while his prize was staring him in the face.
Taking the shaft between parted lips, the elephant took his time tasting and slurping the sizable pole. Professor Wilburn was happy enough to make the jock feel good, but it was his own pleasure and satisfaction that he was foremost interested in.
The blowjob was slow, intimate, and unhurried. The psychologist murmured contentedly to himself as he sucked, indulging himself on the boy's flavor and texture. As the oral service went on, Mark's resistance quieted, then paused. The jock's burning will to resist was temporarily quelched as the most sensitive part of his body became awash in sensuous lip and tongue work.
The professor was glad that the boy had been blessed with ample endowment. Not that the elephant would have had a bad time punishing the college boy's dick but rather, it had been a while since one of his student-playthings had shown him something that made his mouth water.
Things went on in this fashion for a while since Mark was incapable of stopping his former teacher and the man likewise showed no inclination towards self-restraint. Professor Wilburn worked at his own pace, greedily exploring with his mouth that which the boy had no intention of sharing willingly. Not one inch of the captive's length went ignored or unmolested.
Losing himself in the moment with narrowed focus, the man very nearly missed the subtle cues that indicated the jock was about to pop. Spotting the signs just in time to prevent an unintentional eruption, he took his mouth off the boy. Then the professor licked his lips in appreciation and addressed his captive.
"How was that? Surely not terrible, given your current state. Your balls are practically vibrating with need. Would you like me to make this college-boy dick spew, Mark? Do you want your former professor to pump your cock to a glorious, juicy finish? I wouldn't mind witnessing that. But since you were a good boy and didn't fight me while I was strapping you in, I'll let you decide."
Mark might have been content to have been 'forced' to cum but upon being given a choice the aggrieved youth remembered his pride and renewed his dildo-muffled protests.
"No? Are you sure? I can tell you're on the edge of release. No more than a few pumps away, surely. Is your dignity that important to you? Here, feel my mouth again. We want you to make a fully informed decision, don't we?"
Ignoring the youth's squirming and wordless whining, Professor Wilburn resumed the blowjob for another couple minutes using a feather-light touch. This time, Mark continued protesting throughout and, seeing that the horse wasn't going to change his mind, the man pulled off with a sigh.
"Very well then. Have it your way. Though, I do wonder if you'll come to regret that decision."
Breathing heavy through his nostrils, the student tries to get himself under control after the man's mouth withdrew. Balls aching, he feels both relieved and aggravated that he wasn't forced to shoot.
"I've had my fun so let's move on. Returning to the requirements of the experiment, I need to attach various sensors to your swollen member. Before that, allow me to take a few pictures. I think these photos might have been improved by having your body painted in cum by your freshly-spent cock, but this is more than acceptable."
Mark couldn't see the man taking his picture but he could hear and imagine the man moving around him, capturing images from various angles and distances. For the first time he was glad he was hooded.
"Yes, these are coming out great. Your glistening unit. Your hooded head and bound body. Simply lovely. I'll select the best photo of the lot, frame it, and hang it from my home office's wall. Perhaps I'll title it 'Waiting For Release'. I'll set it next to the picture I took of Corey. Remember him? You two sat next to each other in class. Corey had struggled with some of the more difficult material, but after some private tutoring I helped him turn things around."
The horse did remember Corey. They hadn't exactly been friends but he remembered that the other boy had complained a lot about how hard Professor Wilburn's class was. Until one day, he stopped complaining and instead started blushing and fidgeting during class.
Mark remembered wondering, 'Why is he sitting like he's got a plug in his ass?' Well, perhaps Corey had. The jock wished he'd asked the other boy what was going on. Not that Corey would have told him the truth. What college boy would admit that their teacher had stuffed them extra-full before class?
His mind was pulled away from the past and back into the present as he felt the elephant mess around with his junk. It was difficult to tell exactly what was going on but it felt sort of like the man was placing small bandaids at several spots on his cock and balls.
The process took a few minutes and probably only that long because the man would occasionally pause to stroke and pet the jock's dick.
"Alright. All the sensors are in place. We're almost done here and then I can lower you into the tank. It's time to lock the hood in place, Mark, which means our one-sided conversation is over. I'm going to keep talking to amuse myself but going forward you'll be unable to hear me. Once things go quiet, try not to worry. I know what I'm doing and you're in very good hands. Should you experience any temporary discomfort, remember that you're perfectly safe with me and that the discomfort will soon pass."
Mark didn't want the hood locked on. He wanted it taken off! He wanted to run away and escape. He tried one last time to beg, to plead his case, but all he got for his trouble was a reminder that his mouth was filled with a stiff artificial cock.
"As a final note, thank you for making this easy on me. You're such a strong, fit lad that I'll admit to having been a bit worried. I'm not nearly as spry as I used to be and I wasn't sure that you'd simply allow me to tie you down and render you helpless. As it turns out, this couldn't have gone more smoothly. Which is to say, you practically gift-wrapped yourself for me. So allow me to once again express my sincere appreciation. Your total, unconditional surrender was beautiful and I shall treasure it always. Have a pleasant journey of the mind, Mark. Farewell."
The student hated the cruel words but the man was right. He'd just watched and smiled as the elephant had slowly tied him up. He'd ignored how strange and uncomfortable the situation was, choosing to focus on the five thousand dollars.
And now again the man was touching him. Touching his cock. His stomach. His chest. And now his head. Then the hood closed tighter around Mark's face as the world went dark and silent. Only his sense of touch remained and the professor was exploiting that by playing with his nipples.
Mark wondered if the man was still talking as he stroked and tweaked his nipples. He tried to ignore the man's touch but with nothing else to focus on or pay attention to, the jock's entire world became two sensitive nipples that the elephant seemed in no hurry to move on from.
In the moments that followed Professor Wilburn was incredibly tempted to fuck the bound boy right then and there on that table. It would have been so easy and would have felt so good. The elephant's arousal surged and strained at the imagined pleasure of the jock's youthful, tight rump. He ran a finger longingly over the boy's puckered hole as his dexterous trunk touched and stroked his captive's still-hard erection.
But in the end logic and discipline prevailed. The boy's rear entrance needed to stay 'fit and tight' to ensure a proper fit for the waste-disposal plug. Pounding the boy wide open would have been intensely gratifying in the moment but it would have greatly increased the odds that the huge plug might slip out. A disastrous outcome that had to be avoided at all costs. So Professor Wilburn held himself back and, with a deep sigh, pulled his finger back from the quivering hole.
Talking solely to himself now that Mark was rendered deaf the man said, "Oh little sphincter... The wonderful, terrible things I would have done to you. Consider yourself lucky because you got off easy. Now, open up for mister-plug. You're not going to like this, but the discomfort should fade soon."
Mark couldn't see what was coming but he began to suspect what was about to happen when what felt like a lubed, fist-sized plug was pressed firmly against his hole. But it was only when Professor Wilburn started pushing in earnest that the student got a sense of just how monstrously large the plug was.
From the jock's perspective -- who'd never had anything larger than a doctor's finger pushed inside of there -- the plug felt like it was the size of a ripe watermelon, though it truth it was nowhere near that big. Still, the burning, stretching pain was awful and Mark yelled and bucked and fought. None of it did any good as his backdoor was made to accommodate a plug so large that even the professor idly wondered if he'd selected a size too large.
"Shhh. It's okay," the man said in a tone intended to comfort despite the fact that his victim couldn't hear him. "It has to be extra large to prevent slippage. Just give in and take it. It's much too late to start fighting back now. There's a good hole, stretch wide for me."
And stretch is precisely what the hole did because the professor didn't leave it any option to do otherwise. The plug made slow progress and the elephant smiled as he saw the muscular ring grow wide to accept the plug's widest point.
Then, like a magic trick, the plug popped forward and in as it was swallowed up. Only the wide base remained visible. The jock's body trembled in his bindings, a clear sign that the horse was still struggling to cope with the plus-sized plug that was stretching his ring wider than the boy thought his ass could go.
Running a probing finger around the plug where silicon met flesh the man noted, "If you thought that was difficult, I'm sorry to say that the catheter will be even harder to accept. But there's no way past it but through. Let's get you hard again so I have a clear shot all the way down what I assume to be your virgin urethra. I'll try to make this as quick as I can but I'll need to keep pressing until the catheter has made it into your bladder."
Professor Wilburn took a moment to stroke the youth's shaft to full rigidity before he aligned the end of the catheter with the tip of the experimental subject's rod. Rubbing the lubed end back and forth against the boy's piss slit, the professor gave Mark an opportunity to understand what was about to happen.
Wanting to drive the point home even further, the man pushed the catheter in an inch, then pulled it back. Then in again -- a little further this time -- and pulled it back once more. He repeated this act over and over, deeper and deeper, forcing the helpless boy to understand that his cock was getting fucked and that he was powerless to do anything about it.
"Hush now. Fretting won't change anything. You're going to take this, one inch at a time. In, in, in it goes. Let's go all the way this time, yes? Based on how tight your back door was, I'm guessing you were an exclusive top. Well now I'm penetrating every hole you have. Your mouth. Nostrils. Ass. And now the most taboo of all holes, your urethra. You're one very well fucked boy, aren't you? Look how hard you are. The naughty, horny jock is hot for teacher."
Feeling that he'd made his point, Professor Wilburn pushed the lube-slicked tube all the way down. There was some resistance, certainly, as the diameter of the tube stretched Mark's urethra to its limit. But with the elephant's help the pole stayed hard enough to get the job done.
Then, with one final shove, the professor watched as urine began to flow up and through the tube. The tube itself was dark and opaque but the output of liquid at the end of the currently-detached catheter was more than proof enough.
"And there we have it. Your urine is flowing out cleanly and you've lost the ability to hold it back. Here, I'll press gently on your stomach to help it along. Don't be embarrassed. Let it all out."
Using both hands the man pressed down on the youth's lower abdomen. Mark could only grunt at the sudden increase in bladder pressure. Professor Wilburn unnecessarily shushed him again as he pressed gently but insistently downward until the urine ceased its flow. Then he rubbed and kissed the boy's stomach as if grateful for his former student's involuntary gift.
"What a handsome lad. Bound, gag, hooded, plugged, and stuffed. I even like that you're only half hard. It's as if your member is too virile to give up without a fight despite its evident distress. Apologies for the unnecessary delay but I must capture more pictures. Again, just for my private collection, you understand."
At this point Mark didn't know what was happening. He just knew that his ass and cock ached fiercely and that he felt stuffed all over. The horse didn't know what this so-called 'experiment' was supposed to achieve but whatever it was, he was sure it wasn't worth all this pain and discomfort. Not to mention humiliation. He couldn't be completely sure, but Mark thought he might have just pissed himself.
"Okay, check list time. Hood locked? Done. Waste plug? Done. Catheter? Done. Sensors? Done. Cock bag? Done. Breathing tubes? Done. Nutrients and water tube? Done. All that's left is to close up the suit for full water-proof protection. Then we can settle you into the temperature controlled pool and you can begin your stimulus-free journey into the darkness."
A few minutes later the jock felt the wetsuit begin to close up around him. It felt like he was being enveloped in a rubbery, skin-tight cocoon. Even his arousal was sealed away in the special material -- though not before the elephant spent one last minute playing with it. Squeezing it. Stroking it. Moving it back and forth. The unwelcome touch felt shamefully good despite the lingering pain and regardless of Mark's low opinion of the man.
Mark wondered how this would look from the outside. He guessed that Professor Wilburn was taking plenty of pictures so he thought it possible that he'd find out in a day or two.
After the wetsuit was closed and triple-checked, the youth experienced a sense of movement as the table surface he was laying on was raised up into the air. The process was slow and gradual but Mark could tell he was being moved over the deprivation tank.
The only reason he knew he'd hit the water was the sudden feeling of weightlessness which could only mean the tank's water was now supporting his stretched-wide form. Shortly after, Professor Wilburn must have joined him in the tank because he felt his body being moved into position.
And then there was nothing.
No noises. No sights. No smells. No sense of motion. And his body could only feel the subtle skin-tight compression of the wetsuit. Though his sense of touch informed him that he was still well-stuffed in his mouth, ass, and cock.
Pulling his now temporarily undressed form out of the pool using the inside ladder, Professor Wilburn dried off with a towel as he moved to the observation platform. Then he looked down at the sleek, anonymous form of the horse floating upon the water's surface.
Arms and legs stretched out into an X position, the jock floated on his back as his hooded, unseeing eyes stared up towards the ceiling. Five tubes of various sizes protruded out of his body and between those and the seven tethers holding the boy in place, Mark looked exquisitely helpless.
And oh so sexy. The horse's cock must have agreed because it had grown to fill out its private pocket quite nicely. This portion of the wetsuit was made out of slightly thinner material and so the professor fancied he could see every ridge and vein as the member jutted out over the equine's stomach.
"What a sight. I wish you could see yourself. My big-dicked former student, bound and helpless. Unable to see. Hear. Feel. Smell. Talk. Move. You can't even each down and grab that horny cock of yours, can you? All you can do is float there, still and obedient. My perfectly behaved, docile jock-stud. Fuck, I'm so hard right now."
Professor Wilburn was tempted to jerk off to the sight of Mark's peacefully floating and noticeably erect form, but this process had taken longer than he had expected it to and he wanted to get back home. He was hungry, tired, and horny but looking down on the horse like this had made all the planning and effort worth it.
"See you later, Mark. I'm going to take a hammer to that phone of yours, drive home, and then check my rolodex to see which of my current or former students is going to get it rough tonight. Perhaps I'll give Corey a call. He always seems so eager to convince me to keep my blackmail material to myself. Which is ironic considering my trove of blackmail material grows each time he pays me a visit."
Inside the deprivation tank, Mark floated in place, unresponsive aside from the rise and fall of his now calm breathing. The boy hadn't heard a word he'd said and the man was fine with that.
The professor watched as the sound of pumps informed him that fresh water flowed down the opaque feeding tube, into the horse's mouth. He smiled as the boy's body twitched at the surprise 'gift' fed to him by the molded dildo.
He wished he'd thought to relieve himself in the potable water tank. That way he'd get to revel in the knowledge that the dildo was literally pissing down the boy's throat. Though the ratio of urine to water would be so slight that Mark would never notice.
"Oh well," the elephant said, more amused by the thought than annoyed by the missed opportunity. "There's always later isn't there, my little piss-pot? Until then, swallow that water down for me, won't you? Good boy. What a lovely sight. Your submission has left me with a lot of pent up sexual frustration and some unlucky lad is going to get fucked hard into my mattress. Probably more than once. While I'll be breeding them, it's you who I'll be thinking about. And with my cock-dildo stretching your mouth wide and your ass and cock still sore from my intrusions, I'm sure you'll be thinking about me too."
By coincidence, Mark chose that moment to struggle against his bonds. His position didn't meaningfully shift but the effort caused unmistakable ripples to cascade back and forth across the surface of the pool.
"Yes. Fight. Struggle. Tire yourself out. Defy your circumstances until you're exhausted and then sleep. What will you dream of, I wonder? Perhaps I'll visit you there, in your dreams, if that's not too much to hope for. Goodnight, Mark. You were a terrible student but you'll make for an excellent research subject. Be a dear and think of me often, won't you?"
Professor Wilburn stayed a moment longer to watch the futile escape attempt, then left the observation platform. Before heading out he makes good on his promise to destroy the phone, placing it into a plastic bag before shattering it into a thousand pieces. He'd already planned on disposing of this bit of evidence where no one would ever find it.
Next he tidied up a bit, folded the boy's clothes, and took one last look around. Seeing nothing amiss, the man turned off the lights and leaves. Shortly after there's a solid metal 'thunk' sound as the door's inner bolt locks closed. Mark has no way to know this but he's now utterly alone.
All of what Mark does know is inside his head. Senses dulled to the point of full negation, he's left alone with his memories, his regrets, and this strange sense of weightlessness.
In a way, it's eerily peaceful. Mark grew up in an age of smartphones and streaming video and instant gratification. Of a thousand things going on, all the time, with everything fighting for his attention. School. Family. Friends. Games. Sports. Gym. Advertisements. All of earth barked and shouted for his attention, all of the time.
And now... Nothing. Stillness. Silence.
It wasn't quite accurate to call the experience entirely stimulus free. His stretched-wide jaw bothered him. His ass hurt. His cock burned and ached. But he hoped those pains would fade after a few hours. Which begged the question -- just how long was Professor Wilburn planning on keeping him trapped like this? The jock had no way of knowing.
And that was the real rub of the situation. The helplessness of it all. Unable to move, unable to even control his bladder, the horse felt utterly powerless. Worse, he felt pent up. Even with the pain of having that too-thick tube shoved down his shaft, he felt himself firm up at the still-vivid memory of the elephant's hand and blowjob. At the time his pride had won out, but based on how loudly his balls were complaining now, he wondered if he shouldn't have just let the older man finish him off. What would it have really cost him to blow a load in the professor's mouth?
And thinking about the elephant, was the professor there now he wondered? Was the man looking down on him from above the deprivation tank? Pleased with himself and stroking off while watching his new 'toy' bob and float?
How long would the professor keep him like this? A day, as initially promised? Surely no more than a couple days. Any longer than that and someone would come looking for him. The way the professor had tricked him was the mark of a coward. And there was no way that a coward like that would risk a police investigation or jail time, he reasoned.
That's why the man had taken those pictures, Mark considered. To ensure his silence after he was let out. Given what the man said, this wasn't the first time he'd blackmailed and exhorted a student. Poor Corey. That boy had been so naive and innocent. He shuddered to think of what the professor must have made him do.
Still, aside from all the terrible shit that had happened over the last couple of hours, this wasn't the worst way to spend the next day or two. Aside from the dick, jaw, and ass pain, this was almost like a vacation away from the world. An involuntary vacation, true. But still a vacation.
Trying to focus on this thin silver lining, Mark tried to relax and allow himself to just... float.
World quiet, mind wandering, the jock passed an hour's worth of time like this. Floating in tranquil weightlessness, he slipped into and out of consciousness.
That's when his near-meditation was interrupted by an intrusive voice in his ear.
"Hello, Mark. I'm speaking to you from two ear-buds that I've included in your wetsuit."
'No shit, old man. Thanks for stating the obvious,' Mark thought to himself, now alert and incredibly annoyed.
"I have a confession to make. The truth is, I tricked you. More specifically, I kidnapped you. You aren't just tethered inside a deprivation tank. You're locked in place and trapped inside. These things you already know, but I felt it appropriate to be clear and explicit on the subject."
Unseen, the horse's eyes rolled under his skin-tight wetsuit. Even when the elephant was kidnapping someone, he managed to somehow turn the criminal act into another one of his boring lectures.
If there was one advantage of the largely redundant preamble, it was that it gave Mark the opportunity to rouse himself to full wakefulness so that he could begin to pay attention in earnest.
"Furthermore, I lied about the duration. Rather than being trapped inside for a mere day, I should confide right out of the gate that this is where you will spend the rest of your life. Yes, Mark, you heard right. This deprivation tank is going to be your permanent home for the rest of your days. No one will be coming to save you and you have no means to free yourself. This is distressing news for you, I realize, but please continue to listen carefully. This message won't be repeated so you must heed every word with great care."
As Mark listened to his former teacher's prepared speech, fear and paranoia began to grip him. Getting tricked into participating in a kinky weekend was one thing. 'The rest of his life' was another thing entirely.
The jock's first thought is that this was just another mind game. That the elephant was once more fucking with him and that Professor Wilburn must be getting off on seeing him squirm and fret. At least, that's what he told himself and hoped for.
"I'm sure you have many questions but, alas, they will mostly go unanswered. Not only are you incapable of speech, but I have already left the premises. You're alone with no one to help you. You could think of this as a unique form of solitary confinement. What you're hearing now is just a recording of my voice, taped weeks ago, and you are already very much alone. As you may have begun to suspect, I've been planning and preparing for this day for quite a while."
The rest of the pieces fell in place for the college boy. He understood then that this had all been a setup. The made-up last second cancellation of the other research participant. The five thousand dollars cash that the elephant had waved under his nose. What Mark had mistaken for a chance meeting had actually been a carefully planned kidnapping. And now he'd been disappeared into the woods and no one knew where he was.
Mark started hyperventilating into the breathing tubes as he grew very, very afraid,
"Your new life in my deprivation tank is destined to be a solitary one. I will occasionally visit in person to check on the equipment, but these visits will be months apart and I will arrive and depart without you ever being aware of my presence. Now, I do not wish to speak overly long so I'll conclude this recording by telling you what to expect out of your new, stimulus free world."
The more the man spoke, the less Mark was able to convince himself this was just a bad joke gone terribly wrong. There was something in the man's voice. An almost apologetic tone. As if he were genuinely sorry for the hardships the captive horse was going to go through.
But underneath that was arousal. Professor Wilburn was clearly getting off on telling the jock just how fucked he was.
"For the first week or so, you will hear nothing, feel nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, and taste nothing. With the exception of the cock gag in your mouth which is a perfect replica of my own fully aroused member. You're welcome to use your tongue to explore the shape, contours, and textures of this 'feeding tube' if you grow bored or desperate for tactile feedback. The dick stretching your mouth is my gift to you, as is the food and water it will piss into you. My generosity will sustain you throughout this new phase of your life."
Apparently it wasn't enough for the man that Mark spend his life trapped inside a sensory deprivation tank. He had to do so with his mouth stuffed full of a mold of his captor's own cock.
The horse's tongue once again pushed reflexively against the dildo only for the hefty, dense thing to stubbornly refuse to budge. The harder he pushed upon it, the harder it pushed right back.
"After this week-long 'settling in' period is complete, I will set your earbuds to occasionally play low-volume sound. These sounds will be sourced exclusively from hardcore gay porn. There will be no visuals associated with these sounds but I'm sure your idle, sensory-starved brain will be happy to help you fill in the blanks as you imagine the scene you're listening to. I'll be careful to select scenes that have no music or dialogue but everything else is fair game. Sucking. Fucking. Rimming. Stroking. Gagging. Moaning. Panting. Whimpering. Cumming. And so on."
Still on edge from his earlier cock-teasing, the jock couldn't help but firm up at the explicit description. He hated that the man's words were making him hard but his arousal grew hard shamefully quick despite the circumstances.
'Forced to listen to porn' hadn't been a kink he'd even been aware of before that moment, but Professor Wilburn must have been a big fan of the idea.
"By now you are well aware that you're floating inside a deprivation tank. But what you don't know is that this uniquely severe isolation will make your mind latch onto these lewd sounds and sexual utterances like a drowning man grasps a lifebuoy. Please don't be mad or disappointed in yourself if you begin to desperately suck my happy-to-oblige elephant cock. It's a completely understandable reaction, given your circumstances. There's no sensors in the gag, so you're free to suck -- or not suck -- in perfect privacy."
The horse was suddenly hyper-aware of the dildo fastened firmly inside his forced-closed mouth like never before. That the elephant specifically called out that the dildo was free of sensors made Mark believe this was a bold-faced lie.
"After the first week, these audio tracks will play at random times of the day and for random durations. In other words, you will not be able to use these pornographic sounds to track the passage of time. Assuming you'd even have the presence of mind to attempt such a thing. Given this I suspect that, before long, time will become a largely meaningless concept to you. Your world will exist in one of two states: Perfect, silent stillness or the unmistakable sounds of grunting, moaning, panting as fucking, sucking, stroking as two or more lovers feed into each other's passions."
Mark blushed as noticed that he'd fully erected at the professor's obscene words. Further increasing his emotional discomfort, the jock picked up on a subtle shift in the man's breathing and a barely audible rhythmic sound in the background noise.
Professor Wilburn was jacking off in the recording.
"I encourage you to thoroughly enjoy these erotic sounds, Mark. They will be the only form of entertainment allowed to you from now on. And not to put too fine a point on it, but these intermittent audio files will be the only sensory input you'll experience for the rest of your life. So my advice is to let your mind go wild with imagination. Grow hard. Indulge yourself. Get hot and horny. Imagine yourself a participant in the scene, if that's your fancy. Or, if I may be so bold as to suggest, you can fantasize that it's me who is fucking you. Let yourself become overcome with fuck-lust as you imagine me breeding your mouth, thrusting myself deep into your acomodating throat. It's okay. I give you permission. Indeed, I welcome it."
Floating in the pool, unable to move, Mark moaned in distress. He'd really, really fucked up by letting the man get the drop on him. Now he was trapped in this twisted psychological experiment the elephant had cooked up.
Trapped until he figured out some way to escape. Trapped until someone rescued him. Trapped until the man changed his mind. Or, if the man's crazy words had any truth to them, he could be trapped far longer than he could imagine.
Mentally, Mark kicked himself. If only he'd sent a text to his roommate as soon as he'd gotten in the car. If only he'd refused the offer in the first place. If only he'd backed out the moment the eager looking professor had mentioned that the experiment involved tying him down.
If only... If only...
"Earlier I mentioned sensors. I should mention that your equine package is wrapped in sensitive equipment that will track and record data around the clock. The data collected from these sensors will be stored on site, which I will retrieve with a flash drive during my rare visits. I'm going to enjoy seeing how hard you get. How often. How heavy your balls grow with unspent cum. How fast you grow erect. How long it takes you to 'cool down' after the erotic media stops. In short, I will measure and monitor every aspect of your sexual experience within the tank."
Under his hood, Mark blinked in surprise. Was the man implying what he seemed to be implying? The boy couldn't remember going a week without getting off since puberty. Any length of time longer than seemed unfathomable.
"And as I read these and other data points, I'm going to stroke off. I'm going to pleasure my big, thick, elephant cock, knowing that you cannot do the same. Relishing the fact that you are my blue balled prisoner with nothing to do all day except focus on the throbbing between your legs as your tongue dances across my shaft. A throbbing that you'll be helpless to relieve even as it grows increasingly severe. Then I'll grunt, curse, and cum as I praise the stars that it is you who is trapped in that deprivation tank and not me. Because I couldn't imagine spending my entire life floating in an empty void with nothing but two overly-full balls to keep me company. Not knowing whether it's day or night or what year it is as I listen to two lovers cry out their mutual climaxes, my untouched erection throbbing enviously in the dark."
The horse could feel his cock throbbing uselessly within the wetsuit. Just below, his already full balls protested at the idea of going even another hour without relieving their built up internal pressure.
A creeping terror flowed over and through him. What if the man wasn't exaggerating? What if this wasn't an idle threat? Despite his fear, his equine pole throbbed harder, insisting the youth take it in hand. Instinctively Mark tried to comply but again his stretched out arm wouldn't budge. His package quivered and swelled with need, demanding that he try again. It wanted to get off, right then and there.
Filled with big-dick-energy panic, the youth pulled with all four limbs against both the wetsuit and the tether points holding in place. All refused to budge. Even his head and stomach were anchored in place. Only his cock was free to rise away from his body which only served to highlight how restricted his range of motion had become.
As the student resumed his hyperventilating into the breathing tubes, in his ear Professor Wilburn kept on talking, oblivious to the jock's mental anguish. The man's voice continued on, serious, somber, and yet intensely aroused.
"Goodbye, Mark. This is the last time you will hear from me and we will never speak again. I hope you enjoy your new life in my deprivation tank. Now, be a good boy and get nice and horny for me, won't you? There's a good lad. Have a nice, relaxing first week. Soon the moans and grunts and other sounds of sweaty, passionate sex will begin. Maybe I'll even sneak in some recordings of my own, so you can get hard to the sounds of me blowing a massive load in your honor."
The horse felt like he was having a panic attack. He couldn't move his body. He couldn't turn his head. He couldn't spit that blasted cock out of his mouth! His body nearly vibrated in frustration. Just over his stomach, his suited shaft wagged back and forth.
"I'll be thinking of you a lot when I cum. At least, for the first few years. It's possible that over time I'll think about you less and less until eventually weeks or months go by where I don't think about you at all. If I do forget about you from time to time, please accept my apologies in advance. You have to understand, I'm a very busy man."
Mark couldn't think. He couldn't process what was happening to him. He wanted to yell. To scream. To call out for help. To plead for mercy. He might have tried to do just that but the professor's molded dildo seemed to take up almost every spare inch of room in his muzzle.
It was all he could do to move his tongue around in his own mouth and every shift of that wet muscle felt like he was going out of his way to pleasure his kidnapper.
"Farewell and thanks again for volunteering."
The jock did yell then. Or at least he tried to. The more he tried to make noise the more it felt as if the dildo was threatening to slip into his throat, muffling him entirely and cutting off his air. It felt like Professor Wilburn himself was shoving his hips forward, hilting himself and getting ready to make his former student deepthroat his girthy erection.
"PS: Here's a one-time treat for being such a good boy and listening all the way to the end of the tape. I suppose you could call this your 'final meal'. Say 'ahhhh' Mark."
Bound and floating in the sensory deprivation tank, the agitated horse was unable to hear the pump as it kicked into gear. But the jock couldn't fail to notice the result of the pumping as seconds later his mouth was filled with thick, creamy, copious elephant cum.
The powerful but bound horse twitched in his water-tight suit as he grunted to himself, first in surprise and then in distinct displeasure. There was so much of the goo that within moments his tongue was swimming in the stuff. And it kept on coming, forcing Mark to drink and swallow lest he risk death by drowning on his former professor's preserved jizz.
The man hadn't been kidding when he called it a 'meal'. Enraged, scared, and profoundly unhappy the college student kept on swallowing while the artificial cock gushed out very real cum. Only when the youth's stomach began to feel bloated did the pulsing squirts slow and eventually cease.
But the boy's work wasn't done yet as his mouth and tongue were still coated in the cream. Unwilling to float there with a mouth full of unswallowed cum, the dispirited and dejected jock got to work licking the dildo clean. He hated how much this felt like some form of cock worship but he refused to tolerate the salty, earthy taste a moment longer than necessary. He tried very hard not to think about what it was he was lapping up -- his kidnapper's lukewarm cum.
That's when he heard it. The final words he'd ever hear again in his life. Conveyed to him by the panting, satisfied voice of Professor Wilburn. The man must have climaxed while he was recording this message. Perhaps even contributing to the volume of splooge Mark was being forced to swallow at that very moment.
The thought made the jock irate with indignation. His cock flexed in its skin-tight pouch as if unconcerned about the trials and tribulations its owner was going through.
"Mmmmm, that was nice, Mark," the man said, panting. He sounded tired but unmistakably satisfied. "You have a gifted mouth. Oh? What's that? You're not ready to pull off yet? In that case, there's no hurry. Take all the time in the world. And... If you feel up to it... I wouldn't object to another round or two of oral worship. For a mouth like yours, I'll always be hard and ready. That's a promise, my handsome stud."
Above the deprivation tank, the soft sounds of splashing could be heard as its lone occupant thrashed and flailed as much as he could upon the water's surface. Despite its circumstances, the horse's catheterized erection surged in its form-fitting, accommodating pouch while various sensors took detailed notes. Still needy from his earlier edging, Mark instinctively humped the empty air as his member eagerly anticipated attention it would never again receive.
A few minutes later silence returned to the dark, still experiment chamber as the panting youth was forced to admit defeat for the time being. Untouched erection still straining, Mark promised himself he'd renew his struggle just as soon as he caught his breath.
The room remained undisturbed as minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. Off to the side a lone wristwatch lay beside neatly folded clothes, ticking away the time for no one in particular as a thin layer of dust settled on its face.
Outside of the quiet forest where the nondescript building resided, life continued on as normal. Frantic. Chaotic. Noisy. Exciting. And desperately longed for by a lone horse who passed untold time humping and sucking in the dark.