I strained my head backward, the only part of me I could still move freely. My muscles tensed as I tried to regain control. “I’m trying, Master.”
“That’s it. Close, my little flower, and wait for me to plunder you again. How do you feel inside?”
“Full. Impossibly full, like my insides are going to spill out of my mouth.”
His eyes burned with excitement, the smile on his face only adding to his demonic appeal. “But you will make room for me, won’t you, sweet boy?”
“Yes, sir,” I promised as if making a sacred oath.
“Deep breath now, pet.”
He pushed against me until it felt as if I was being slowly cleaved in half. My back bowed as my legs spread impossibly wide, wings trembling so that the metal threads buzzed underneath me like the notes of a violin. Vasil and his wicked vanadium sphere would be the death of me.
“That’s it, my beautiful, obedient boy, just a little more.”
I braced myself for the searing pain of being torn apart, when suddenly the pressure subsided, replaced by relief and an immense sense of accomplishment. I had taken it all because my Master willed it so.
“That’s my brave boy,” Vasil said, dabbing at the beads of sweat on my forehead with his embroidered handkerchief. “Your hole is now gaping, trying to close with every sweet pulse but unable to do so because my metal won’t allow it. Because I’m in control.” He swept the sweat-dampened curls from my forehead and placed a gentle kiss there. “You did so good, my beautiful boy. Have a sip of this now.” He put a cup to my mouth and I drank deeply from the honeyed concoction, the nectar of life. Then his hands were on me, sliding across my shoulders and down along my sweaty torso. I panted, my muscles taut from the effort of holding his toy inside me. “I love the prominence of these veins,” he said as he traced along my navel, down to my groin and along my cock. “Such beautiful lines.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“I’ve spent too many nights devising ways to torment you. Specifically this handsome, girthy cock, the source of your manhood and pride. I wish to dominate that too.”
“Sir?”
“With this.” He lifted another instrument, one far more slender than the spheres but about as long, with smooth protrusions shaped like beads along the length of it.
“And that is?” I asked, while wondering where it might fit.
“A sound,” he said.
“Ah.” I recalled the description in his contract. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
“And you know where this goes, don’t you?”
“Yes, Master,” I leaned back and surrendered myself to him, my prick deflating slightly, likely feeling the same apprehension.
“I’ve made it nice and slick so it should go in without any trouble, but if it hurts, let me know.”
“Will it be painful?” It seemed anything going in a space so narrow would be.
“It may be uncomfortable for a bit, may feel strange and foreign, but I think you’ll really like it. That’s why we do these experiments after all.”
“Experiments,” I echoed as he held my flaccid prick in his confident hand, slowly stroking it to turgidity. I firmed up immediately, unable to resist my Master’s coaxing. He studied my prick and then the sound, which seemed to expand and narrow before my eyes. Vasil was sizing it, I realized, customizing the tool to fit me. Had he done the same with those spheres? I was flattered by his special attention and his commitment to my care.
“Here we go,” Vasil said at last, then eased the warm metal inside my slit, pausing at each bead to watch my reaction. He was right that it felt foreign, an invasion, much like the spheres. The stretching was uncomfortable but not unbearable, and in amuch baser way, it felt right. He was testing my body’s ability to endure, and that aspect I liked very much.
“How does that feel?” he asked once it was about halfway in.
“Like I have to piss.”
“Accidents do happen,” Vasil said without much fanfare. Perhaps he was into that too? “What else?” he asked.
“I want you inside me.”
“I am inside you.”
“I want more of you inside me,” I said.
