The warehouse smelled of metal and sweat, a low hum vibrating through the concrete floor as Marcus shoved him forward. Ethans wrists were already cuffed behind his back, the steel biting into his skin with every step. He was naked, exposed, his cock half-hard from the rough handling and the knowledge of what waited in the center of the room.
On the table, Marcus ordered, his voice low and unyielding. Ethan obeyed, climbing onto the padded steel surface because resistance only made the cuffs tighter and the consequences sharper. Marcus worked fastankles strapped wide apart, thighs spread and locked, torso cinched down with heavy leather belts across chest and hips. A thick silicone gag was forced between Ethans teeth, silencing anything but guttural sounds.
The machine loomed above him: a sleek, industrial rig of articulated arms, vacuum pumps, and a thick, ridged sheath designed for one purpose. Marcus adjusted the controls, and the sheath descended, slick with lube, engulfing Ethans cock in one smooth motion. The fit was tight, warm, and immediately began to pulse with rhythmic suction.
Ethans back arched. The machine started slow, a steady pull that drew blood into his shaft and made him swell inside the sleeve. Marcus watched from a stool beside the controls, eyes dark with satisfaction. Youre going to give me everything tonight, he said. Every drop. No stopping until I decide youre empty.
The suction increased. Ethans hips jerked against the restraints as the machine milked him with mechanical precision, pressure rising and falling in calculated waves. A second arm extended, pressing a lubricated probe against his hole. It pushed inside without mercy, thick and vibrating, finding his prostate on the first thrust. Ethan moaned around the gag, the sound raw and desperate.
Marcus leaned closer, one hand resting on Ethans straining thigh. Look at you, already leaking for the machine. It doesnt care if youre ready. It only cares about what I program it to take. He tapped a button. The probe began to thrust in short, hard strokes while the sheath twisted and sucked harder, the vacuum pulling at the head of Ethans cock with relentless force.
Orgasm hit without warning. Ethans body locked, ropes of cum surging into the machines collection chamber. The sheath didnt stop. It kept sucking, overstimulating the sensitive head, turning pleasure into sharp, electric agony. Ethan thrashed against the straps, but the belts held. Marcus only increased the intensity.
Again, Marcus commanded. The probe angled deeper, vibrating directly against his prostate while the sheath cycled through faster rhythms. Ethans second climax tore out of him minutes later, his cock pulsing helplessly inside the machine. Sweat slicked his skin; his thighs trembled. The chamber filled with another load, and still the machine worked, drawing him toward a third.
Marcus stood, circling the table, running a hand over Ethans heaving chest. You belong to this now. To me and what I make you give. He adjusted the controls again. The suction became tighter, almost painful, while the probe swelled slightly inside him, stretching and pounding. Ethans eyes watered, his muffled cries growing louder as the machine forced another orgasm, this one dry at first, then spilling thin and aching.
Time blurred. The machine cycled through patternsslow and torturous, then rapid and brutalnever letting Ethan soften completely. Marcus controlled every setting, watching the readouts, occasionally adding a hand on Ethans balls or a rough pinch to a nipple to heighten the overload. Ethan lost count after the fifth climax. His body was no longer his; it was the machines, Marcuss, reduced to twitching muscle and forced release.
When Marcus finally powered the rig down, Ethan lay limp in the restraints, cum-slick and exhausted, chest heaving. Marcus removed the gag, wiped Ethans face, and spoke quietly. Good. You gave me everything I wanted. He began unstrapping the belts one by one, slow and deliberate, letting the power exchange settle into something almost tender in its aftermath. Ethans breathing steadied under the careful touch. The machine had taken what it was built to take, but Marcus remained, solid and present, the one who decided when enough was enough.
