Chapter 3 Oliver #2
Hayes pulled one of my gags from his pocket, a red rubber dog bone attached to black straps.
“Open,” he commanded, and when I clamped my jaw, Hudson pinched my nose shut until I gasped for air.
Hayes shoved the gag in, buckling it tight behind my head.
Drool pooled immediately, my protests reduced to muffled grunts.
I could taste the familiar rubber, feel it silencing me as they stepped back to admire their work.
Satisfied, they untied my ankles from the table and hauled me up, the cuffs remaining snug against my wrists.
I shuffled awkwardly, pants around my feet tripping me, until Hudson scooped me up like I weighed nothing—my small frame no match for his strength.
He carried me to the machine, the dildo jutting up menacingly, already lubed and gleaming.
He then lowered me slowly, the head of the dildo nudging my front hole. I shook my head, eyes wide, pleading through the gag, but they ignored it.
“This is what happens when you forget who you belong to,” Hudson said, his hand on my hip guiding me down.
The silicone breached me, stretching my walls inch by inch. I moaned around the gag, the fullness overwhelming, my body resisting, then yielding as gravity forced me further down.
Fully impaled, the tips of my toes just barely touching the ground, the machine’s padded seat supported my weight.
Hudson strapped my thighs to the frame with wide belts, locking me in place so I couldn’t lift off.
My bound wrists were clipped to handles in front, forcing me to lean forward.
Hayes knelt and freed my ankles from the pants, tossing the clothes aside, then buckled my feet to stirrups, spreading me wide.
The twins stepped back, their eyes raking over me—naked, gagged, tied down on this beast. Hudson’s cock strained against his zipper, and Hayes licked his lips.
“A pup with a bone needs a collar and ears, don’t you think?” Hudson mused.
I tried to squirm, but only managed to rub my dick against a bumpy protrusion that I hadn’t noticed, causing a shock of pleasure I hadn’t expected.
Hayes laughed meanly as his hand landed between my shoulder blades then slid down the length of my spine. When a finger probed my asshole, I clenched my eyes shut. A muffled cry fell from my lips as the digit pushed in, then lazily began to stroke my walls.
“Poor little puppy,” he mocked, slipping his finger out.
Suddenly, the anal beads began pressing into me one by one, each thicker than the one before it.
Hudson gripped my chin and forced eye contact with me. “You’re nothing but our dumb, slutty pup, Oliver. You’ve seemed to have forgotten that.”
I pleaded to him with my eyes, and I knew he saw it, but all it did was cause his eyes to darken and his mouth to quirk up in a sadistic smirk.
His thumb pushed against my lower lip, tugging it down.
“We’re not mad at you. As your Masters, we should’ve prevented this. We’ve been a little too lax with your training lately. But don’t worry, that stops now.”
He let go of my chin, patted my cheek condescendingly, then reached around to secure a collar around my throat.
Next were my usual ears—a chocolate brown to match my hair. He arranged my curls around the band, hiding it with the thick strands.
When he was done, he smiled widely, then nodded to his brother.
“Alright, looks like you’re all ready to play, pet,” Hayes announced, holding a remote, which I presumed controlled the thing they’d impaled me with.
That was confirmed when he pressed a button, and the machine hummed to life, the piston pulling back before slamming upward, burying the dildo deep inside me.
I cried out, the sound garbled, as it began its relentless rhythm—thrusting into me with mechanical precision, and hitting spots that made stars burst behind my eyes.
Only the dildo moved, thank god, but the other parts vibrated, only working to increase my pleasure tenfold.
Each pump of the fake cock stretched me, the veined shaft dragging against my inner walls, building friction that had me clenching involuntarily.
Spit escaped the gag, trailing down my chin onto my chest. Hayes watched intently, increasing the speed, as the wet slaps of silicone against my skin echoed throughout the basement.
Hudson circled behind, his hands kneading my ass, occasionally slapping it just to make me jolt onto the invading length.
I rode it helplessly, body rocking with every drive, pleasure coiling tight in my core despite the humiliation.
My body lurched forward with every upward slam, the padded seat beneath me vibrating in sync.
I clenched around the dildo, trying to fight the building wave, but it crashed over me anyway—my first orgasm ripping through me like fire.
My hole spasmed wildly, juices squirting out around the silicone, soaking the base and dripping down my thighs.
Muffled screams vibrated against the gag, tears welling in my eyes as the pleasure bordered on pain, my dick still rubbing against the textured ridge at the machine’s front.
Hayes and Hudson watched for a while, their presence a heavy weight in the room, but then they turned away, murmuring something about checking on dinner upstairs. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving me alone.
Time blurred after that—the basement lights harsh and unchanging, and no clock to mark the hours. The machine didn’t tire; it pistoned in and out without mercy no matter how much I willed it to stop.
Sweat slicked my skin, and my chest heaved with ragged breaths.
Spit bubbled from the corners of my mouth, mixing with the tears that streamed down my cheeks, hot and salty.
I lost count after the third climax, each one more intense than the last, my core fluttering and gushing as the dildo hammered my g-spot.
My legs trembled in the stirrups, muscles straining against the belts, but no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t escape the fullness stretching me open in both holes, and the vibrations humming against my dick as it swelled and throbbed, oversensitive yet craving more.
The door opened again sometime later—minutes? Hours? Hudson slipped in alone, his footsteps quiet on the concrete. He didn’t speak, just circled me slowly, eyes dark with satisfaction. His fingers pinched my left nipple hard, twisting it until I arched.
He leaned in then, teeth sinking into the curve of my shoulder, biting just enough to break skin. I writhed against the machine, coming hard, cursing the toys inside me as I shook from my sobs, tears blurring my vision.
He left as silently as he’d come, the door latching with a finality that hurt.
I wanted to beg him not to leave, but I probably wouldn’t have been able to manage speaking even without the gag at this point.
My mind fractured under the onslaught, thoughts dissolving into sensation: the burn in my thighs from being spread wide, the constant pressure inside me, the way my dick pulsed and throbbed with every grind.
I climaxed again, the overwhelming nature of it causing my body to convulse. My fluids were leaking steadily now and pooling beneath the machine. Tears flowed freely, carving paths down my face, chin, neck. Pain and exhaustion and ecstasy started to twist together until I couldn’t tell them apart.
Hayes returned next, or maybe it was Hudson again; their faces swam in my haze.
He stood in front of me, unzipping his jeans to free his hard cock.
I thought he was going to undo my gag and make me suck it, but instead, he only lazily stroked it, using his other hand to pluck at my right nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger with casual cruelty, the pull sending sparks straight to my dick.
I came instantly, walls fluttering around the relentless dildo, a garbled whine escaping the gag.
He bit my earlobe then, drawing a fresh sob as the aftershocks rippled through me.
Satisfied, he tucked himself away and vanished upstairs, the isolation swallowing me up once more.
How long had it been? The machine’s hum was white noise now, my body a vessel for endless release.
Orgasms blurred into one long, torturous high—each thrust coiling tighter, snapping with a force that left me limp, only to build again.
My front hole felt raw, swollen, and yet it wept more slick with every invasion, the vibrations teasing my dick until it hurt.
Tears soaked the gag’s straps, my eyes puffy and red, but I couldn’t stop them; they poured out with every peak, a release of everything—their control, my submission, and the overwhelming bliss that drowned me.
My Masters came and went like shadows, brief intrusions into my torment. Hudson’s hand slapped my ass once, the sting making me clench and shatter anew. Another time, Hayes traced a nail down my spine, the light scratch igniting nerves until I squirted, body shaking violently.
Bites on my neck, thighs, even the sensitive skin under my arms—marks blooming like brands. Pinches to my nipples that yanked me from stupor into climax.
I lost all sense of self, time meaningless as the machine fucked me through wave after wave. I was overfilled and desperate, coming so many times that the line between pleasure and agony vanished.
Just as I was about to pass out, the door to the room swung open, drawing my tired eyes.
My Masters had come back. I hoped they stayed longer this time.
I hoped they would finally take me off of this horrible, torturous thing and let me have their cocks.
It probably said something about my mental state that I almost completely missed the man they were dragging in.