Fuck My Workout

The Academy trains doctors. Below are some of the men who endure the heavy practice so students learn on a real body.

Recent Research

Extreme Torment Research Center opens
Extreme Torment Research Center admits visitors and researchers, funded by heavy public donations. Unpaid volunteers under no-quit contracts. Cock and Nipples tracks are running; strongmen want Arms and Legs groups. Cash is there to buy real contest machines. Motives still get a close look.
Full report →
MOOC and remote lab platform (limited free)
Out-of-city students join full Academy courses, including live lab hours on real men. Chat queues auto-enforce. Paid seats use a 5-hour quota and weekly intensity quota. A scream can reset weekly limits for all students watching. Limited free access now.
Full report →
Pain-hex transfer technique
A willing receiver can accept a full pain hex off a patient’s balls. Only Wade Sting sits as receiver for now. Full report: Academy trial day, camp transfer test, kicks that failed to clear non-magic load, biweekly orders.
Full report →

Men on the practice floor

They are not teachers. They are the men who put their own bodies under the drill so a trainee can learn on living flesh. Some walked away from higher pay to sit this roster. Between training blocks they volunteer in the Extreme Torment Research Center program. When a student overshoots, they finish the clock. They put the student first, leave their hands open at their sides when it hurts, and come back the next morning. High-tolerance men who endure what is in front of them and always ask for more. Hover a face for the practice-floor look.

Marcus Hale

Strapped down 4,820 times

What he goes through: Practice for raw tube work after rough insertions: students push thick rods into his cock-hole, then the machine sucks. When a student goes too deep or too wide, he does not get a break—they pull the rod out and put it back in until the instructor is satisfied.

“It hurts every time. Anyone who says it gets easy is selling something. The first year I counted every rod; now I only notice when someone goes too deep or too wide, and even then I stay open, because if I flinch they have to start over on me anyway. Some students twist the rod like a screw. Training rods have threads, but that is not how you use them. Spinning inside me is pure fire. Teaching stock is always one size up from my fit. If my hole swells open, they step up another size or two for the rest of the week. Some students, when a rod sticks on the way out, yank hard instead of easing it. The strong ones are the worst: plenty of force, wrong direction, so it rips and still will not come free. That pain is a different animal. Some students push it too deep and cannot get it out without using a tweezer all the way in my urethra. When that happens I stay still and hard and count out loud while they dig, my cock still raw. The suck after a bad insertion is the part that still makes my legs jump; I lock my hips and let them finish the cycle. I am not here to teach. I am here so that when these trainees graduate, they have already felt a living man endure the worst insertion and not walk out. Some nights my cock is still raw when I walk home. I still lie down when they call my name the next morning.”

News: Small used to mean up to 2XL, and medium up to 3XL. Those sizes are gone. For the rest of the semester, only 4XL, 5XL, 6XL, and 7XL rods go in my cock. I am built larger than most men, so these go past a normal fit. If it fits easy, throw it out.

Jonah Gripp

Worked over 3,100 times

What he goes through: Practice for manual therapy after heavy kicks or strain from the well rope: heavy kneading, heavy squeezing on the balls, pliers, and sharp flicks. No numbing cream—ever. Light-force sets do not count. He stays until the students use enough force.

“I get paid to be gripped until it aches: knead, squeeze, pliers, whatever the chart calls for in that slot. New trainees tap like they are scared they will break something. The older classes hit much harder. A real knead from them went straight into your teeth, and when they locked pliers on my balls they closed with full force until the set counted. I miss those hands. Do not go light on my account. Light hands waste both our time. I have endured worse on a Tuesday, walked home, cooked dinner, and been back on the chalk stations before breakfast with my balls still tender. If your hands are shaking, put them on me harder. That is the only way the fear leaves. I am not glass. I am the man who stays until the instructor says the set counts. Recently I proposed adding the sledgehammer and rebar to my syllabus, and I made a bet with the other staff: I can receive the hit standing still in a perfect front-double-biceps pose and make absolutely no sound. If I fail, they get to punish me—each one separately or all together—for two semesters. A sledgehammer takes real strength just to lift. A student needs one or two semesters before he even has the form. Each student needs hundreds of hours hammering my balls before they ever swing on a stranger.”

News: Every afternoon: public sledgehammer demonstration. Unlimited hits. Anyone may join the queue to hammer me. I will be fully naked and erect the whole time. Tea and snacks provided, plus a prize draw.

Rafael Sparks

3,640 shock-chart sits

What he goes through: Practice for the ball shock test: clamps lock on both balls with electrodes in the jaws, and a thin electrode is pushed into his urethra, so current hits cock and balls together. Students turn up the dial while they watch the curve on the screen. While the voltage is high he may not make a sound until the measurement finishes. Overshoots happen all the time. Lately the sessions have gotten rougher—he bought the new box himself.

“Rule one on the shock chair: when the current is up, you stay quiet. Noise ruins the reading, so you bite it down until they say the curve is done. Clamps lock on both balls with electrodes in the jaws, and they always run a thin electrode up my cock-hole too, so I receive current in my cock and on my balls at once, deep, not just on the skin. Overshoots are not rare. They are the job. Worst stretch used to be a second-year who could not keep a clean voltage curve; he kept the dial at the highest setting and re-ran the curve for close to an hour. I sat through the whole thing silent, balls clamped, wire in my cock, current biting both ends, waiting for him to finish so I was allowed to breathe out loud. My jaw still aches when I think about that hour. That was before the new box I bought. The new box has a big red Self Test button that looks exactly like a power on/off button. It dumps a raw two-hundred-plus volts as a hardware check, and it is never meant to run with a man's cock and balls attached. Students keep reading it as the power button. Most of them mash it once at the start and once at the end. Every mash, I scream for about ten minutes. That level is too brutal even for a rhino. One kid got nervous and kept smashing Self Test because he thought the machine was still booting, close to two hours. I could almost smell my own cock and balls. I forgave him. I deserved that. It is part of my job. He still owes me a real session so he can finish a curve chart the right way. Quiet rule still stands when the dial is honest. Self Test is not the dial. I received it anyway because I am strapped and locked in.”

News: This term the old and new shock boxes both clamp on my balls and cock at the same time. Dual current, no taking turns. Students: remember to power on and power off the new box each session. Tutorial posted in the classroom.

Chris Boothe

About 22,000 kicks counted

What he goes through: Practice for the pool rescue drill: mouth full of water, body spread open. Each student owes him full-power kicks to the balls until the water comes out; the set cannot end early—at least ten kicks, more if needed. Weak kicks do not count, so the student keeps kicking until they land solid.

“I get kicked for a living on the pool rescue drill. Mouth full of water, legs open, wait for the boot. The set only counts when the water leaves my mouth—that is the pass threshold—and even then the student still owes at least ten solid kicks. You learn the rhythm—breathe out on impact, keep the water in, wait for the next boot. What you never learn is the trainee who used to play pro football and has no idea how to hold a kick back. He froze mid-swing, then put his full leg through me like he still thought it was a match. Water shot out on the first hit, but the ten still had to land, so I received the rest with an empty mouth and both balls already ringing. That put me on Icy Hot for a week, thick coats of it morning and night. I stayed on the mat that same day and through that whole week with no break—too many students still owed their kicks. Icy Hot cools the skin. It does not take me off the roster, and it does not block the next boot. Had a taekwondo trainee once too—kick speed so high that by the time I tracked the first one he had already put thirty-plus into my balls. Wrong form, overshoot, full-leg panic—if it lands on my balls while I am on the mat, I receive it. That is the job. I do not get to refuse a set because a trainee is messy.”

News: Form groups for multi-boot crotch kicks on the pool rescue drill. Footwear rack + student-brought soles welcome if charted (bare, gym, rugby, cleats, wet-sock slap). Cup-fail demos run during some hours, then the set restarts fully bare. Orgasm or urgency does not end a set. Icy Hot stays stocked; next trainee starts while the gel is still wet.

Ellis Wyre

5,400 painful procedures

What he goes through: Practice for the wire-brace fix when a cock lists sideways: students lock the metal jig on his shaft, tighten it, and leave him for a full timed session with no numbing. Rubber bands cinch the head into shape for the sit. When the fit is wrong, he stays until staff cut the wire, then receives a full repeat.

“A trainee once set the brace a full size too tight and walked off. I sat in that wire for another two hours past the plan before anyone cut me free. I did not call out. I did not leave the chair. Students have to see what a bad set does to a man: purple head, pulse hammering in the wire, rubber bands still cinching the tip. The metal bit so hard I could feel every heartbeat. When he came back he cut the bad brace himself and put a fresh one on me right away—same student, second try. Full timer again, and still too tight. I told the roster board he needs more sessions with me to practice. He will not make that mistake on a stranger in the city—not after watching me finish the timer on a bad brace and then take a repeat, across the hundreds of painful after-school sessions he will sit with me. I cannot refuse a bad brace from a student. I never take a bad one off myself either. Staff cut it, or the student does, and I stay until they do. Do not cut early. I did not call out.”

News: Standard-size braces went up in price. This semester will use braces one size smaller. Expect more raw injury and slower-healing welts when the smaller fit is forced on.

Victor Gauge

4,100 press-cabin cycles

What he goes through: Practice for the hospital ball press used when a man's balls run too large for the gear: both balls locked in the cabin while students work the pressure dial. Slow climb is correct, but students often botch the ramp—spikes, stalls, sudden jumps. No talking while the cabin is live; a failed ramp means the whole press runs on him again until it is clean.

“The textbook says ramp slow. The practice floor says students almost never keep a clean climb. I have been under a jump so heavy my cock stood straight up from the pain—not pleasure, just the body panicking—and I still could not open my mouth to tell them to ease off. Some of them see that erect cock and decide the press is not strong enough, so they tick the dial up one notch every minute like I asked for more. Rules are simple: no talking while the hospital ball press cabin is live, and if they botch the climb, the session does not end until the full hour is done. Sometimes staff leave the dial where it is and make the student ramp up again from that number because it is more convenient. One of them ran four full ramps on me. My whole body went tight and my legs would not hold still. Every second felt like the worst jet-yank moments from when I was still a soldier, but I endured the full hour. Staff bleed the pressure, reset the gauges, and lock me back under until that student finally runs a clean ramp. I have joked with the night staff that my balls have spent more hours in that press than I have spent asleep this season. I was not really joking. Call me two minutes after a cycle with the balm still wet—I will climb back in and let them botch the ramp again if they need the practice.”

News: Multiple ramp-ups in the same session up to the meter limit are allowed. You have my irrevocable consent. Not encouraged. Save the full re-climb for when you actually botch it, not because you like watching me shake.

Cole Lash

2,800 mud-clean sessions

What he goes through: Practice for cleaning caked field mud off cock and balls: coated, then braced on the handrail while a student knocks it clean with counted whip strokes and paddle hits. When skin shows, he gets a coarse salt-water rinse, then the short whip again on his salted raw sack for extra practice.

“I always put more mud on than a normal patient walks in with. If they can clear me, the street cases feel easy. Light taps do not count. When the mud dries it only packs tighter, so they have to put more strokes in the same place until skin shows. Worst tool is the short whip: loud as a crack in a quiet room, and it hurts worse than it sounds. I am not allowed a sound until the whole mess is gone: cock, balls, every crust. Paddle hurts honest; whip hurts mean. Hands on the handrail, jaw locked, let them finish. Worst batch was a hospital order of mud cut with glue, stuck like cement on my cock and balls. Students worked on my crotch for a full hour, whip and paddle both, and still could not get every crust off until several of them lined up and beat at it together. My sack was striped raw. Then they hit me with coarse salt water, not a plain rinse, and every stripe lit up like fire. After that they put the short whip back on my salted bare balls for the extra reps. Staff still want to use up the rest of that batch. They bought too much and hate waste, so I told them if they keep coating me with it they will need a few more students on the handrail each time. I said it as a joke. They wrote it down as a yes. Now when the glue-mud comes out, half a class lines up and I receive the full handrail session until the last crust is gone. A man does not go flaccid in front of that many students. I let them use short whips on my bare balls for another twenty minutes after, because they still cannot make the short whip crack loud enough. Each loud hit on naked balls is enormous pain, but it is worth it. Better they learn to break a rigid mud shell here than freeze on a real ranch hand.”

News: Additional hours for short-whip training on my bare balls until midnight every day this semester. Short whips provided. Walk-ins are always welcome.

Nolan Greaves

2,200 clamp sits

What he goes through: Practice for the tight-clamp cure when nipples will not stop itching: steel clamps locked tight on both for a full timer, no pads. After they come off, each student must feel the tissue—open hand, then a heavy pinch—so they learn the post-clamp touch.

“The sit looks simple: clamps on both nipples, clock running, jaw shut, no pads. The steel still burns the whole timer—extra clicks from a fumbled ratchet make it worse, and I stay quiet until zero. After they come off, students have to put their hands on my nipples while the blood is still slamming back—first a feel, then a real heavy pinch—so they know what the tissue is supposed to feel like when the cure has done its job. That touch is brutal. Both the open hand and the pinch light my chest up; it hurts far worse than it looks. I do not pull away. I do not swat their hands. I built this chest in the gym so I can endure more of it—and that backfires. Thick pecs make trainees crank the clamps harder; they see muscle and get reckless with the ratchet, like the steel needs more clicks to bite through. If they notice my cock is erect, they add a few extra clicks right away, which I think is fair. I still lift. I still sit. The bigger I get, the more clicks I get. I remember how many clicks each student put on me.”

News: Students asked how many clicks others use. Highest so far: 180 clicks on my nipples, with a two-hour extension. Extensions often available. Just ask.

Damon Hexley

1,900 hex-kick clears

What he goes through: Practice for kicking out pain magic on the balls: loads a stack of pain spells on himself that only many full-power kicks can break—never one hit—then receives kicks in rapid succession until every spell is gone. Light or missed kicks do not clear the spells; the sticky ones dig in deeper if the students stall.

“I put the pain spells on my balls myself so the students have something real to break. Not one spell—a stack, a cocktail. Different flavors, different depths. Nothing but kicks crack them—not one boot, a long string of full-power hits—and there is no balm, no waiting it out, no other cure. I am an award-winning pain-spell master; when I load myself it is not amateur hour. Light kicks do nothing. High kicks miss. Slow kicks let the sticky ones wake up and dig in deeper, so the next clean hit hurts more than the first. Some days my casting hand shakes and I load twice the spell I meant—double dose on both balls, too strong, and I cannot take it back. It is still my job to stand there and receive the continuous rapid boots until every last spell is gone. Once a spell took hold so hard that my cock stayed rigid for nearly an hour from the pain alone—ugly, constant—and I put a binding spell on myself so I could not step off the chalk stations until the students had kicked the stack clear. Luckily that student kicked faster than the strong spell could grow back. When the stack finally breaks you feel the silence in your guts. If there is time left, I always cast a heavier stack on myself and make that same student keep kicking.”

News: New doubling hex rolling out for the rest of the semester. Students should wear boots. No slippers. Eat first. My balls do not wait for weak legs. If you cannot kick the stack off me in time, I am in deep trouble.

Grant Platt

2,600 weighted hangs

What he goes through: Practice for the weighted hang when seed will not thicken: a rope hung from his cock and balls while students add barbell plates on a slow timer. Almost none of them do it right—many tie the rope around his bare balls only instead of including the shaft, which is agony. Bad counting stacks an outrageous multiplier of the planned load—whole plate stacks of 60kg and much more now that the hospital keeps buying iron. Once the plates are on, nothing comes off until the timer ends. Unbalanced loads swing hard. After release they often force a semen sample through a tube into a cup to prove the treatment worked.

“Trainees skip the cock and cinch both bare balls. That pain is a different animal, and I cannot yell while the session is live. Half of them cannot count; they dump the whole plate stack on me before they notice it is an outrageous multiplier of the plan, with most of the hour still left and my sack already swelling where they can see. The worst night, a student got called away mid-hang and forgot I existed. I never quit a session mid-hang. That is the rule I keep for myself, so I endured until the next morning. They left the plates on. The morning staff saw me still hanging there and decided to dig right away—a thick tube straight in for a semen sample while I was still loaded. What came out was yogurt-thick. They got excited. Then they put me straight into the morning session with the iron still hanging like nothing had happened the night before. Then they bought more plates because they thought we did not have enough iron. I only understood when I felt a load brutally heavier than the room's full plate stack, close to a hundred kilos, and it felt like my balls were about to be torn clean off. Those new plates are still there, and they are still buying more. It is funny that the trainees now are strong enough to walk a hundred kilos onto my balls without noticing how much it is. I am fine with that. A man should be able to hang what the room puts on him. I feel every kilo of it all the time.”

News: We are accepting new applications for time extensions. Staff can help load the weight plates if they are too heavy for you. More new weight plates next door.

Wade Sting

Injury demos every term—hundreds logged

What he goes through: The hospital books him into real punishments so students can see living injuries. In the same week he may pull his own nipples purple for the lecture hall, then receive living-anchor strain and a jet-yank on his balls. For jet-yank teaching he does the solo full takeoff force that normally needs four soldiers or twenty civilians on the rope. Every term he also goes through the full run of cock, ball, and nipple injuries on the syllabus. He lifts hard so his muscle definition stays bodybuilder-clear for the class to see under the swelling.

“I do not come here to get fixed. I come here broken on purpose. Jet-yank solo is the one even the soldiers flinch from: the pull four soldiers or twenty civilians should share, on me alone. The class is waiting, so you lock your jaw and receive the bird. For the one or two weeks a demo is on the syllabus there is no treatment. If the red fades they send me back out to raise the injury again. Only when the teaching block ends do they let the balm start, so the next demo can slot in soon and the roster board shows no gaps. Damon Hexley thinks my week is easy, so when he loads pain spells on my balls he pours them on heavy, checks my groin every day, and casts a few more. He forgets I cannot clear them for fourteen days, day and night, sticky ones climbing to a level nobody else has ever experienced. I probably should have told him, but if Damon knew how much I can endure he would get jealous and cast every torment spell on my cock with no mercy just to see when I would break. I look forward to that day. Bees every term: they put honey on my cock so the bees swarm in fast and the stings stack hard and deep. A light case would only teach gentle doctors. My goal is simple: let them see the worst pains on a living man who will not fold. I am not brave because it does not hurt. It always hurts. I am brave because I stay upright, hands open at my sides, and receive every pull and yank as it comes while they watch. If I can endure through that, they leave confident they can treat it.”

News: This Saturday, 4 a.m. to noon: open visit for continuous solo jet-yanks, one every 5 minutes, nonstop. Breakfast and snacks provided. Live streaming also available.

Reed Prodd

Hive-sting shock drills—full cock surface scans every term

What he goes through: Practice for the hive-sting shock cure: students run a full-surface “map”—a contact-point scan—on his bare cock and balls with a stock cattle prod, every contact point from base to tip, including every spot on the exposed head, until the station’s 3D vision board registers the whole organ mesh as hit. Training prods are stronger than clinic wands, and the power is not adjustable. No real bee stings; the skin just has to take the hits.

“You can still see red marks on my cock: hits from hundreds of students, all from last week. The drill is simple: every point on the shaft, the sack, and the bare head gets a hit. My head is large, so that part of the map takes longer, and it is the worst every time. There used to be numbing cream. Three years ago they ran out and never ordered more. I did not ask. I take it bare. I will not have anyone think I need the cream. Chart says moisten the skin first so the spark does not bite as hard. Almost none of the students remember, so every hit lands like fire. I try very hard not to scream, and I receive it. There is no escape and no pause until my cock is fully electrified—every point on the head finished. No rest before that. Some days the room has extra prods and they work me in pairs or triples. That is fine; my cock is strong enough for it. Do not do that to a real patient.”

News: New elephant cattle prods may be used on my whole cock and balls. Voltage is very high. Students should wear insulated gloves and insulated shoes. If I scream, ignore it and shock my dick head ten times to remind me to be silent. Pick a penalty for each scream from the list on my course page. You are encouraged to try Center holds on any spot of my cock so you learn what this work feels like—never on a patient.

W-09

Took 3-for-1 sentences, season after season

What he goes through: The woodshed number at the Ranch Belt. When the Boss puts out a sentence, W-09 steps up and takes it for the man who earned it—three days served for every one due. Under sentence the days pile on: water tower with a full bucket and a dumbbell riding the load, the ball mill harnessed to the stone, milk-rack quotas past what his own body should clear, and the shock ring that reads an erection as loafing. He does not complain, does not make anyone pay it back, and never begs a blanket in the ice house.

“I am the number who steps up when a sentence needs serving. They do not call my name. They just look, and I walk over. Three days for every one of his, and I hold them all. I never complain about what is done to me under a sentence, and I never make anyone pay it back—I am there to be used, and they use me well. That is what a sentence is for. Harlan casts it. I allow it. And if I am honest, I think of him as a coach: he finds where my limit is, then makes me go a little past it. The pain is his method. The result is mine. Some men would call that being broken. I call it being trained.”

News: Night class runs first, then the tavern queue past the porch light. If my cock is already hard, or your foot still itches for kicking, you do not have to wait—money on the counter buys the next kick. The next fuck costs more.

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