I Actually Got Hooked on the Premature-Ejaculation Huge Cock of the Weak Juice Guy I Hired to Help Film

Chapter 1: I Just Wanted the Most Useful Prop

I originally only wanted to shoot an experimental short film.

It wasn’t porn—at least not at the beginning. I’m an independent video creator who specializes in works that use the body to explore “loss of control” and the boundaries of desire. The concept this time was simple: find a man so ordinary he was almost invisible, have him repeatedly get hard and cum in front of the camera, then observe the expression that follows—those brief moments of blankness, embarrassment, and powerlessness.

I posted a casting notice on an anonymous forum. The requirements were clear: average looks, average body, preferably a bit of an inferiority complex, and he had to “finish easily.”

Three days later, he showed up.

His name was Ah Zhun. Twenty-five, thin, narrow shoulders, wearing a pair of old glasses. When he spoke, his eyes always drifted toward the floor. He stood in the small studio I had rented, wearing a washed-out T-shirt, hands nervously twisting together.

“Um… I… I really might finish very easily…” he stammered. “I had a girlfriend before. On average… less than a minute.”

I nodded, thinking he was perfect.

“Strip.”

He blushed and obeyed. When that thing sprang out of his pants, I froze for a full three seconds.

The cock was completely disproportionate to its owner. Thick and long, veins standing out, a darker color, the head already slightly glistening. It hung heavily, yet twitched faintly from nervousness. Ah Zhun kept his head down and said in a voice so quiet it was almost inaudible, “S-sorry… it looks like this, but it really finishes very fast…”

I had him lie on the white backdrop and picked up the camera myself.

“Start masturbating. Just cum.”

He did. His fingers had been stroking up and down for less than forty seconds when he suddenly arched his waist, let out a suppressed grunt, and thick semen sprayed out in pulse after pulse—splattering across his abdomen, chest, even a few drops flying up to his chin. After he finished, his whole body went limp. The cock, still half-hard, continued to twitch lightly, but his expression was complete blankness and shame.

I stared at the playback on the screen and suddenly felt my heartbeat skip.

It wasn’t because of the volume of semen, nor the size.

It was the almost arrogant presence that cock still maintained while trembling through orgasm—contrasted so sharply against how small and weak he became the moment he finished.

I didn’t sleep well that night.

Chapter 2: The Beginning of Addiction

For the second shoot, I added a condition.

“This time don’t touch yourself. I’ll do it.”

Ah Zhun’s face instantly turned red to the ears, but he didn’t refuse. He lay on the same white cloth, hands obediently at his sides. I put on black gloves and wrapped them around that already half-erect huge cock. It rapidly swelled in my palm, the heat astonishing, veins pulsing against the glove.

I stroked him for only twenty-seven seconds.

He came.

The volume was even greater than last time, thick enough to almost form strings. When he ejaculated his eyes rolled back slightly, broken gasps spilling from his mouth, his entire body going soft as if all strength had been drained. Yet that huge cock remained high and proud in the afterglow, the tip still seeping clear fluid, as if refusing to admit it had already finished.

I looked at it and suddenly felt a strange impulse.

“Again,” I said.

Ah Zhun’s eyes widened in panic. “B-but I just came… I need at least half an hour…”

“Now.”

I gave him no choice. The gloves were still coated in his semen. I gripped that cock again and forced the strokes. It hardened when it shouldn’t have, yet became even more sensitive. This time it didn’t even last twenty seconds before he let out a near-sobbing sound and shot a second, thinner load.

Afterward he actually cried—not from pain, but from shame and the loss of control over his own body.

I turned off the camera, but I didn’t let him put his clothes back on.

That night, for the first time, I didn’t send him away.

Chapter 3: A Completely Unexpected Turn

For the third shoot, I didn’t even turn the camera on.

I had Ah Zhun kneel on the floor while I sat in a chair with my legs apart. I didn’t make him lick me, nor did I let him enter. I simply placed the tip of my foot lightly on that already fully erect huge cock and slowly ground down.

“You’re not allowed to cum,” I said.

Sweat beaded on his forehead. He bit down hard, his whole body trembling. That cock jumped under my foot, veins bulging, the tip continuously leaking clear fluid that I kept pressing back with the sole of my foot.

He lasted a little over four minutes.

Then he broke.

The semen didn’t spray—it was squeezed out in pulses by the pressure of my foot, running down my ankle. He collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, shoulders heaving, letting out small animal-like whimpers.

I looked at the white traces on my foot and suddenly smiled.

“Ah Zhun.”

“…Yes.”

“Do you know why I chose you?”

He shook his head.

“Because I wanted to film ‘loss of control.’” I took my foot off him, crouched in front of him, and lifted his chin. “But I discovered the one who actually lost control… is me.”

I kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle kiss. It was aggressive, almost biting. He stiffened for two seconds, then clumsily responded. That cock, still half-hard after just cumming, pressed hotly against my lower abdomen.

We didn’t have sex that day.

I simply made him get hard again and again, stopping every time he was one second away from climax, watching him tremble in a mixture of torment and pleasure. In the end I allowed him to cum in my palm, then slowly smeared that semen across his lips.

He licked it off.

His eyes were already completely different.

Chapter 4: The Curse of the Huge Cock and Premature Ejaculation

The fourth time we met, Ah Zhun opened the door on his own.

He wasn’t wearing pants—only a loose shirt. That huge cock was already fully erect, swaying heavily, the tip glistening. His face was red, yet he looked straight at me.

“I… I might finish even faster today,” he said. “Because I thought about the way you stepped on me the entire way here.”

I closed the door and locked it.

“Then cum for me to see.”

He leaned back against the door and gripped himself. This time it didn’t even last fifteen seconds. Semen shot high; a few drops even landed on his own glasses. Afterward he didn’t go soft right away like before. Instead, extreme sensitivity kept him twitching faintly.

I walked over and took hold of it.

“Can you cum again?”

He shook his head, then nodded, finally letting out a nearly despairing sound: “I don’t know… it feels like it’s broken.”

I had him lie on the bed and straddled him, but I didn’t sit down immediately. I only pressed my wet entrance against that scorching huge cock and slowly rubbed back and forth. Every time the head brushed my clit, his whole body shook; every time I deliberately let my entrance suck at the tip, he let out broken pleas.

“Please… let me inside… or let me cum… anything…”

I didn’t let him inside.

I just kept grinding until he climaxed again on his own. This time the semen was squeezed out by my entrance, coating my labia and inner thighs. When he came his eyes rolled back and he kept repeating “I’m sorry” and “it feels so good.”

Afterward he cried for a long time.

And for the first time I felt real fear—

I was starting to lose track of whether I wanted to control him, or whether I wanted to be destroyed by this premature-ejaculation yet overwhelmingly present huge cock.

Chapter 5: A Completely Unpredictable Ending

The fifth time was also the final formal “shoot.”

I set up the camera, but pointed the lens at myself.

Ah Zhun stood in front of me, completely naked. That huge cock had turned an almost painful deep red from prolonged denial. I told him he wasn’t allowed to touch me with anything except that cock.

“You can cum anywhere,” I said. “Face, chest, entrance, inside… your choice. But you only get to cum once.”

He nodded.

Then he did something I never expected.

He didn’t rush to enter, nor did he rush to cum. He first knelt down and carefully kissed my lower abdomen, my thighs, and finally buried his face between my legs, licking slowly, almost reverently. That huge cock—which could lose control at any moment—hung stiffly between his legs, occasionally swinging with his movements, clear fluid continuously dripping from the tip.

When he licked me to orgasm, he himself was on the verge of cumming. He bit down hard on his lower lip, his entire body rigid, forcing the urge back.

Then he looked up at me. His glasses were crooked, but his eyes were unusually clear.

“May I go inside?”

I nodded.

When he entered, it was unbelievably slow. That cock stretched me inch by inch. Every bit deeper, he stopped to catch his breath, sweat from his forehead dripping onto my chest. By the time he was fully buried, both of us were trembling.

He only thrust seven times.

On the seventh stroke, buried to the hilt, his whole body locked up. He let out a long, almost mournful gasp, then came inside me. The semen was copious and scorching, flooding in pulse after pulse until it overflowed from where we were joined. The orgasm lasted abnormally long—long enough that I started to feel something was wrong.

After he finished, he didn’t go soft.

That huge cock remained hard, buried inside me, still twitching faintly.

Ah Zhun raised his head. On his face was a calm I had never seen before.

“I lied to you,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m not premature.” He shifted his hips slightly, letting me clearly feel the hardness still inside me. “I can only cum once. From the day I was born until now, I can only ejaculate once per day. After I cum, it stays hard until the next day.”

“But…”

“But after I met you, it started to break.” He lowered his head and kissed my collarbone. “It started wanting to cum a second time, a third time for you. It started disobeying.”

He began moving again.

This time it wasn’t the spasms of premature ejaculation. It was real, slow, deep thrusts. Each one heavy and steady, as if reclaiming every desire that had previously been forced to end too quickly.

By the time he fucked me through my third orgasm, he whispered beside my ear:

“The camera is still rolling.”

“The ‘loss of control’ you wanted… has truly begun.”

He gripped my waist, flipped me over, entered me from behind, and with almost cruel patience fucked me until my voice turned hoarse and my legs gave out.

And that cock I had once treated as a “premature-ejaculation huge dick” never came again.

It simply stayed hard, stayed inside me, reminding me—

From the very beginning, the one who lost control was never him.

It was me.