Party Poison/machine, 1/2
anonymous
November 10 2010, 23:46:29 UTC
I hope you don't mind the fact Gerard is kidnapped, I just couldn't imagine how it would happen in a context other than this. I hope it's okay for you! ___
They wake him up with it every morning. If he's lucky, the buzzing of the machine powering on and starting up is the thing that does it. If he's unlucky, it's the machine itself. Not that it makes much difference in the long run - but Party Poison takes his small admissions where he can. It's certainly preferable to be prepared beforehand (as prepared as he can be, anyway) than it is to be flung straight into the middle of it, yanked out of sleep only to find himself on the brink already; half out of his mind with desperation, pleasure rocketing so high it makes him light-headed as the machine rips yet another orgasm from his body.
They're especially relentless in the mornings, too, taking advantage of his disorientation and sleep-pliant body. Sometimes they barely let him catch his breath before it starts up again, feeding off how over-sensitized he is from that first one; pushing him right back to the edge in half the time, again and again until it's milked him dry, leaving him sweat-drenched and shaking. And you'd think being left alone for a while after that would be a relief, but it's not, because then he has to wait - and that's almost as bad - just laying there and not knowing when the next onslaught will come.
They've got him tied spread-eagle on his back on the padded table, wrists and ankles and a single thick strap across his stomach holding him down. Party's thankful, at least, that they left his hips and shoulders free, because being unable to move at all would just be one-too-fucking-many degrees of torture. Again, finding whatever bright sides he can - since either way it doesn't change the fact he's being forced to come against his will, the machine manipulating his body into arousal without his mind getting any say in the matter.
Party Poison/machine, 2/2
anonymous
November 10 2010, 23:48:11 UTC
It always starts the same way. After what seems like forever staring into space, tracing the wires and tubes leading from the machine into the ceiling-- it'll start up, low and rumbling underneath him, still making him jump every single time. His heart kick-starts along with it - dread and adrenaline, and as far as torture goes it could be worse, he supposes, but it's still fucking shameful; the way a god damn machine can make him come apart so easily with just a couple of strategically placed stimulators.
But then, sex is just a mechanical process too, so perhaps it's only fitting. On the first go it even takes the time to work him up, mimics the real thing in that it doesn't just go straight for it-- Party can't decide if the person that programmed this fucking thing either had some bizarre fetish for it, or just a really sick sense of humour. It starts slow, the binding around his cock tightening gradually, just gentle hints of those penetrating pulses. Party has no fucking clue how or why it works - the Science behind it - but it does. Jesusfuck, does it ever. The dull thrums around his cock feel like they sink below his skin, spreading heat from the inside outwards through his whole body, until he can feel each throb from his dick right down to his fucking toes.
It can easily have him fully hard in under a minute, arching and panting and squirming against the overwhelming intensity of it. He just has to grit his teeth and bear it, let it have its way - because he knows what happens if he tries to resist. They almost never have to resort to fucking an orgasm out of him - the plug in his ass usually stays stationary simply because ninety-eight percent of the time it's just not needed - but if it takes too long, they will. And they'll skip the build-up, too, like a punishment; snap it into instant, rapid action right up inside him - vibrations against exactly the right spot - cruel and calculated and so relentlessly good Party couldn't fight it even if he had the will to.
He'll already be coming by the time his eyes have finished rolling back into his head - to the soundtrack of buzzing machine as it pulls it from him - the binding milking his cock from the first jerk of his hips to the very last pulse, not missing a single drop. Sometimes he'll watch it go, follow the progress of his come moving through the tubes and disappearing into the ceiling.
He doesn't even want to know what they do with it.
Re: Party Poison/machine, 2/2
anonymous
November 11 2010, 00:08:06 UTC
I'm really, really glad you liked it. ;)
Dude, you should still totally do it! For some reason I find it hard to find the porn I write hot - probably because I spend ages pouring over it and reading it so many times I get used to it - so I'd love if someone else did it too. (& yes, I was)
Re: Party Poison/machine, 2/2
anonymous
November 11 2010, 00:12:45 UTC
Of course!< 3
Perhaps I will! (The idea had all of them hooked up... *ponders*) Dude (which is probably the only time I've said dude before), I'm totally the same like that! (I thought so!
Re: Party Poison/machine, 2/2
anonymous
November 11 2010, 00:17:41 UTC
Oh man, yes x1000000000000000000 to the "all of them" idea. Can you imagine the interaction, being in each other's presense with that going on? Nghhh I'm drooling already.
___
They wake him up with it every morning. If he's lucky, the buzzing of the machine powering on and starting up is the thing that does it. If he's unlucky, it's the machine itself. Not that it makes much difference in the long run - but Party Poison takes his small admissions where he can. It's certainly preferable to be prepared beforehand (as prepared as he can be, anyway) than it is to be flung straight into the middle of it, yanked out of sleep only to find himself on the brink already; half out of his mind with desperation, pleasure rocketing so high it makes him light-headed as the machine rips yet another orgasm from his body.
They're especially relentless in the mornings, too, taking advantage of his disorientation and sleep-pliant body. Sometimes they barely let him catch his breath before it starts up again, feeding off how over-sensitized he is from that first one; pushing him right back to the edge in half the time, again and again until it's milked him dry, leaving him sweat-drenched and shaking. And you'd think being left alone for a while after that would be a relief, but it's not, because then he has to wait - and that's almost as bad - just laying there and not knowing when the next onslaught will come.
They've got him tied spread-eagle on his back on the padded table, wrists and ankles and a single thick strap across his stomach holding him down. Party's thankful, at least, that they left his hips and shoulders free, because being unable to move at all would just be one-too-fucking-many degrees of torture. Again, finding whatever bright sides he can - since either way it doesn't change the fact he's being forced to come against his will, the machine manipulating his body into arousal without his mind getting any say in the matter.
Reply
But then, sex is just a mechanical process too, so perhaps it's only fitting. On the first go it even takes the time to work him up, mimics the real thing in that it doesn't just go straight for it-- Party can't decide if the person that programmed this fucking thing either had some bizarre fetish for it, or just a really sick sense of humour. It starts slow, the binding around his cock tightening gradually, just gentle hints of those penetrating pulses. Party has no fucking clue how or why it works - the Science behind it - but it does. Jesusfuck, does it ever. The dull thrums around his cock feel like they sink below his skin, spreading heat from the inside outwards through his whole body, until he can feel each throb from his dick right down to his fucking toes.
It can easily have him fully hard in under a minute, arching and panting and squirming against the overwhelming intensity of it. He just has to grit his teeth and bear it, let it have its way - because he knows what happens if he tries to resist. They almost never have to resort to fucking an orgasm out of him - the plug in his ass usually stays stationary simply because ninety-eight percent of the time it's just not needed - but if it takes too long, they will. And they'll skip the build-up, too, like a punishment; snap it into instant, rapid action right up inside him - vibrations against exactly the right spot - cruel and calculated and so relentlessly good Party couldn't fight it even if he had the will to.
He'll already be coming by the time his eyes have finished rolling back into his head - to the soundtrack of buzzing machine as it pulls it from him - the binding milking his cock from the first jerk of his hips to the very last pulse, not missing a single drop. Sometimes he'll watch it go, follow the progress of his come moving through the tubes and disappearing into the ceiling.
He doesn't even want to know what they do with it.
Reply
I pondered doing a milking fic but figured I shoukd wait to see wat you come up with (if you're the person that first mentioned taking it...)
Reply
Dude, you should still totally do it! For some reason I find it hard to find the porn I write hot - probably because I spend ages pouring over it and reading it so many times I get used to it - so I'd love if someone else did it too. (& yes, I was)
Reply
Perhaps I will! (The idea had all of them hooked up... *ponders*) Dude (which is probably the only time I've said dude before), I'm totally the same like that! (I thought so!
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment