No splash, no cash.
A groan was heard across the entire delivery bay. This time it wasn’t a groan of pleasure, but positive displeasure. The tinny female voice over the intercom broke the bad news.
“Due to circumstances beyond our control, the next ejaculation will be delayed until further notice.”
The machines had ground to a halt at the Sunnybrook Sperm Farm, stopping the channelling of fresh ejaculate bound for the climate controlled sperm bank. The rows of men, seated with their Male Massager ejaculation machines over their throbbing members, were not happy.
“What the fish is going on?” barked one disgruntled man “Just starting to get somewhere on this infernal machine and everything grinds to a halt.”
“It’s not the first time” said another. “It happened last week.” Some men, with their Male Massager machines sitting forlornly in their laps, had decided to take matters into their own hands and finish the job. But seeing this was catching on across several rows in the concourse, nurses were despatched to warn them to stop at once.
“No one gets paid for anything that’s not collected” said one forbidding nurse, patrolling the rows. She cast a disapproving eye on any man that had decided not to delay matters a moment longer. “No splash, no cash, that’s the rules.”
This immediately had the desired effect. Men stopped what they were doing and wrapped themselves in their towelling dressing gowns, none of them making eye contact. While the machines were humming away they could lose themselves in their own little world, but with the machines lying idle, there was nothing to do but stare into space and think of what might have been. The tannoy erupted into life once more with the same monotonous female voice. “Due to circumstances beyond our control the next ejaculation will be delayed until further notice.”
“We know already” snapped one man, clearly piqued that he had been so cruelly denied his moment of glory.
Eventually the machines burst back into life, but many men had wilted with the delay. There were cries of “Nurse” across the entire concourse, as several latex gloved nurses had to coax life back into flaccid members. This was the only way they could get a raise, went the old joke.
Soon most men were back in the saddle with the machine racing towards a satisfactory conclusion. One or two groans of pleasure could be heard, but they were drowned out by an enmasse moan of profound dissatisfaction as the machines suddenly stopped again.
Tannoy on; “Due to circumstances beyond our control the next ejaculation will be delayed...”
And that’s as far as it got. Someone threw their Male Massager machine at the tannoy and climaxed messily all over it shouting “Delay this you halfwits!”
He didn’t get paid.
Related Articles
