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Hinges creaked as the executive opened the door, stepping inside the bedroom with an exhausted exhale. He quickly shed his coat, draping it over a nearby chair and placing his hat carefully on top. Vest’s buttons were patiently undone, much to the dismay of muffled sounds behind him. The sounds only prompted Chuuya to undress at a slower pace, leaving him in nothing but his gloves, button-down, and slacks. He combed his hand through tangled curls as he finally turned around, relaxing as his gaze landed on the sight before him.
On the bed lay Dazai, stomach down against the comforter as his entire backside glistened with sweat. Folded arms were bound by crimson rope, tied at the wrists and leading to an intricate harness around Dazai’s biceps and shoulders. Any attempt at movement was near impossible.
At the foot of the bed, Dazai’s spread legs were restrained to the posts, bound at his knees and ankles to prevent closure. He was a masterpiece—firm ass and lubricated cunt exposed for Chuuya's view.
In Dazai’s ass was a wine-red plug thick enough to fill him, yet nowhere enough to satisfy. On the plug’s base was an obsidian gemstone encased in thick glass, adding just the right amount of weight. The plug vibrated, massaging tight muscle as it gave off a low buzz. However, its sound was barely audible, instead overshadowed by the monotonous humming of the machine currently plunging a dildo in and out of Dazai’s cunt.
Each thrust produced an audible squelch, a result of the lube Chuuya had slathered on Dazai’s lips beforehand. Much like the plug, the toy was nothing grand, chosen solely to stretch the brunet open while riling him up in the process.
Another muffled sound comes from the bedhead, this one louder than the one before, intent on getting Chuuya’s attention. Without asking further, Chuuya stepped to the edge of the bed and kneeled on it, settling between the machine and Dazai’s ass. A gloved hand extended, pressing its thumb to Dazai’s outer labia and spreading it until he could see the subtle pink of his insides.
“Have you had enough?” he asked, massaging Dazai’s lip underneath the leather.
A desperate groan left the bound man, causing Chuuya’s head to tilt, staring past Dazai’s ass to catch a glimpse of his obscured face. Against the pillow, damp bangs stuck to sweaty features, curtaining the detective from view.
“Osamu.”
Almost on cue, Dazai shifted, lifting his head despite the strain it had on his neck and shoulders, glaring back at the ginger to establish eye contact.
In this position, Chuuya could see him better. His face was hued red, a mixture of exhaustion and arousal. Amber eyes were slightly puffy, but wasn’t it to be expected with the nature of the game they’d prolonged? A lone tear was drying on his cheek, but Chuuya was attentive enough to notice a few other faded streaks, closer to the leather straps digging into Dazai’s face.
Feeling generous, Chuuya repeated the question. “Have you had enough?”
The prodigy grunted in response, tremoring fists clenched behind his back in an act of defiance.
“Osamu.” His thumb pressed toward the fluttering hole, watching as it clenched around the toy thrusting inside. He stroked its side, gauging the younger's reaction, before nudging the tip further inward, making Dazai tense. “Use your words,” he instructed, wiggling his thumb further inside. “I know you haven’t forgotten them that fast.”
An exhale rippled throughout Dazai’s frame, legs twitching in an action of restlessness. He began to mumble again, a failed attempt at speaking around the gag in his mouth. He was quiet, barely audible above the thrusting of the machine, so Chuuya exercised his displeasure by pressing his thumb further into his cunt, sinking to the second knuckle.
The retaliation caused Dazai’s voice to heighten in pitch, backside tensing as he spoke again, muffling louder this time.
Pleased with the other’s cooperation, Chuuya thrust his digit alongside the toy, humming quietly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, before eventually pulling his thumb free, turning the machine off shortly after.
Out of desperation for stimulation, Dazai began to clench around the stilled toy. If Chuuya had been any crueler, he would have laughed at the pathetic display. Instead, he reached for the base of the dildo, whispering for Dazai to loosen up as it was guided out of him. Lustful eyes watched with endearment as Dazai’s hole fluttered, eagerly squeezing around nothing. He could tell how desperate the brunet was to come, having been understimulated for hours. The sight did nothing to help the heat blooming in Chuuya’s crotch, heart thumping with increased arousal.
“Y’sure you’re ready?” He asked, hoping Dazai would ignore the sudden huskiness in his tone. “It’s no easy feat.”
Dazai growled weakly, mumbling an insult beneath his gag.
The executive's eyes roll, shuffling off the bed to grab a lone box seated on the dresser, relishing in the way Dazai strained his neck to try and force a glance. His stubbornness made Chuuya move slower, his movements stiff to hide the box’s contents from other’s view. The flash of irritation across Dazai’s face was a source of amusement, causing the ginger to chuckle as he knelt back on the bed’s edge, the box placed on the ground. “Keep twisting and I’ll tie your neck to the bed, ‘samu.”
The brunet’s retort was a scoff behind the gag, leg jerking in an attempt to knock into Chuuya, to no avail.
Bastard. Chuuya huffed, rolling his eyes as he reached into the box of toys, pushing through it as he muttered to himself. It was filled with various toys, from dildos of ranging variety to different attachments they had purchased for the fuck machine. Though Chuuya gave his input, a majority of the toys were purchased under Dazai’s discretion, making the box a collection of textures and shapes that would make even the most successful pornstar do a double take.
Near the top was the toy Chuuya had picked out earlier, a seven-inch dildo with a curved tip, ribbed shaft, and a decent amount of girth. The tip was dark red, nearing black, and the gradient continued along its length. It was a new addition, one that Chuuya had bought specifically for the occasion, and had stored separately to keep away from Dazai until tonight. Chuuya reached for the toy, grabbing it from the box before beginning to push it away with his free hand. Yet amid his actions, Chuuya paused, attention caught by the iridescent gradient of an unfamiliar attachment, tucked near the bottom of the box.
The attachment was large, about nine inches if Chuuya were to guess. The girth of it was far larger than the toy Chuuya had picked out, his hand barely being able to close around it. It had a swollen tip, dark purple, and a gradient of teal and blue that repeated along the shaft, coloring the raised veins that lined its sides, as well as scales near the base of the attachment. Yet, it didn’t end there. Just as Chuuya’s free hand rotated the attachment, he froze, realizing that the attachment didn’t end as the rest of theirs did.
Near the end of the attachment was a knot, about two times the size of its swollen head.
Chuuya went rigid, his stomach curling with heat as his heart thumped loudly in his ears. He knew Dazai had some interesting toys, sure. But this one? The mere thought of Dazai trying to fit this inside of him made the executive flush.
Behind him, another sharp sound escaped the gagged man, and Chuuya didn’t have to turn around to know that Dazai was glaring at him, patience nearly gone.
But it meant nothing to Chuuya. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the attachment in hand, warmth dancing in his cunt as his stomach churned with lust.
In a split-second decision, Chuuya abandoned the dildo he’d previously grabbed, reaching for the attachment before pushing the box aside in finality. Lubricant was sought out, flicking the cap open before pouring it along the toy’s length, spreading it with a few pumps of his fist. The entire time he made sure to keep the toy beneath the edge of the bed, avoiding amber eyes he knew were tracking him from behind.
“You’re lucky I don’t leave you and your attitude like this all night,” Chuuya mumbled, voice even rougher than before—as if he’d been the one tortured for hours.
He turned his back to Dazai as he faced the machine, imagining the quizzical look that would have graced the taller’s expression as he began to secure the attachment, continuing to block it from Dazai’s view. The sight of the toy fully secured was enough to cause a skip of Chuuya’s heartbeat, pussy clenching as he watched the toy sit, inches from his stomach.
He swallowed harshly, twisting his body just enough so he was no longer between Dazai and the toy, yet still served as a barrier for the other’s gaze. His hand grabbed Dazai’s hip, pulling him slightly toward the toy before angling him so it would be properly aligned. The nervous curl of his toes was endearing to Chuuya, his heart squeezing in his chest. “You ready, ‘samu?” He asked, fingers stroking circles into the skin on his hip.
Dazai nodded rapidly. Upon realizing Chuuya wouldn’t see it, a sharp sound left his throat: the nicest one Chuuya had heard all day.
“Good girl,” he murmured, reaching out with his free hand to turn the machine on, the other tightening its hold on Dazai’s hip.
Chuuya watched as the machine reeled backward, the low hum of its gears sending butterflies into his stomach. The pace began slow, movements inching as if it fed off of their anticipation. On its first thrust forward, the attachment grazed Dazai’s hole, swollen tip prodding against it before recalling. On the second thrust, penetration was made—the sweet gasp that left Dazai sending shivers down Chuuya’s spine. His head tilted, gazing between Dazai’s legs just in time to see the way his cunt spread for the monster, stretching Dazai more than twice the amount the previous toy had. The machine then recalled it, the loss of a stretch causing Dazai to shudder—thighs trembling ever so slightly.
The machine continued to thrust, periodically feeding Dazai inches until he’d taken half of the toy in one go. The sounds that escaped Dazai’s throat were an art no musician could master, each gasp he took worth hundreds of symphonies. The plan was to keep the machine slow, teasing Dazai with it until he couldn’t handle it anymore—until he was forced to beg just like Chuuya wanted him to do from the beginning. The attachment was already three–fourths of the way in, Dazai’s toes permanently curled as his back continued to flex, cunt squelching with every clench he took around the girth. Surely Chuuya could hold out long enough to see him crumble.
How hard could it be?
Almost to spite him, Dazai’s breath hitched, hard enough to sound like a choke. Chuuya glanced upward, looking at Dazai’s hands to check for any signal of discomfort. Nothing. Confused, the executive furrowed his brows, looking toward the brunet’s face for further insight—his heart skipping a beat when he did.
Dazai’s expression was visible, amber eyes peeking through bangs sticky from the drool on his cheeks. His eyes were heavy, pupils blown with lust as his eyelids were laced with dewdrop tears. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, chest jerking rapidly as if he’d suddenly hiccupped. He was an Adonis, handsome and beautiful in all he did, presented right before Chuuya like the finest wine at a feast. The executive forgot how to breathe, staring blankly—palms growing clammy.
Chuuya swallowed hard, stars in his eyes. “..’samu—”
He was cut off by a cry, detective’s legs tensing suddenly as his back arched. Chuuya’s eyes grow wide, turning away from Dazai’s face to stare at the machine, his heart skipping a beat soon after. “Fuck, Osamu.”
The attachment had sheathed itself down to the knot, the hole of Dazai’s cunt stretched around it as it tried to bully its way inside, only building the pressure. The sight caused dampness in Chuuya’s boxers, and Dazai’s muffled groans did nothing to help. He watched until the knot sank into his heat with a pop, a whimper curling in Dazai’s throat as he squirmed, clenching harshly. The attachment pushed in further, spearing open his walls and amplifying his cries, before pausing, leaving the entire length inside of him.
For a moment, all seemed still, Dazai’s pants muffled into the sheets as his body trembled with sweat.
Before the attachment recalled, catching on him as the knot speared him open, exposing pink walls for its view.
This was how hard it could be, huh?
Rationality flew out the window, Chuuya’s torso twisting away from Dazai’s to adjust the speed of the machine, turning it to its highest level. Mid-recall, the machine grew quick: yanking the knot out of Dazai’s walls before slamming it back into him.
Dazai spasmed, his head thrown backward as he shouted, loud enough that not even the gag could muffle him. The new pace was punishing, excessive lube from both Dazai and the toy mingling together and flying outward with each thrust. The pace was so forceful that it jerked Dazai forward, straining the binds of his ankles and forcing him into the damp duvet, all while Dazai could do nothing but take it.
The jerks of the piston raked a sound from Dazai’s chest until he was whimpering, teeth digging into the straps of his gag as if holding on for dear life.
Chuuya suddenly shifted on his knees, crawling toward the bed head until he was kneeling at the younger’s side. He reached behind his head to quickly undo the gag between lips, tossing it on the ground as fingers curled into chocolate locks, forcing Dazai’s head upward before slotting their mouths together. The muffled cries Dazai strained out were almost as delicious as him, Chuuya’s tongue greedily forcing itself into his mouth to swallow him whole.
“God, Mack.” He mumbled into his mouth, fighting the heat in his chest that wanted to devour the bastard alive.
“Come on that damn thing before I tear it apart.”
Chuuya’s presence was overwhelming. Dazai had long since accepted that he would drown in it, continuing to wail and cry into his lover’s mouth. The machine’s brutal jerks speared him open, over and over until his stomach tensed: orgasm slamming into Dazai as he creamed the cock inside of him. The melody of squelches echoing throughout the room complimented loud slaps, a mess being made between Dazai’s legs.
The machine continued to thrust, fucking Dazai through his orgasm as the brunet trembled through the aftershocks. Chuuya shifted off his thighs, standing up to stride across the room and open one of the dresser drawers. A harness was pulled from the drawer before kneeling at the foot of the bed, grabbing another attachment, and reaching to turn off the machine.
“Don’t.” Dazai croaked, voice barely audible from the headboard.
The retort caused Chuuya to look up, brows furrowing deeply. “Huh?”
“Don’t.” He repeated, firmer this time despite how weak it was.
“So you like some robot more than me?”
“Put it in. Keep both.”
Chuuya blinked owlishly, his brows furrowing deeply. “Did you lose some brain cells when you pissed yourself?”
Dazai groaned, shuddering. “I can handle both.”
“Like hell, you can.”
“Chuuya,” he gasped, as if on the verge of passing out. “I can make it fit.”
“You can't—”
“I’ll make it fit!”
The sudden desperation stunned the ginger, mouth opening to bite back and instead freezing into an expression of disbelief. He glanced down at the dildo he’d grabbed before looking over to the machine, still thrusting wildly inside of him. The stretch from it alone was enough to split him in two, and Dazai wanted to add more? Maybe it was lust-induced delirium, or maybe it was overconfidence. Regardless of which—
“Please,” Dazai begged, tone holding the depths of a sob.
Chuuya shuddered, stepping into the harness almost robotically, securing it over his slacks. The dildo is secured shortly after, and the executive kneeled on the bed, mentally cursing himself for falling into the bastard’s trap.
“Fucking whore,” Chuuya hissed, straddling Dazai’s upper thighs. “You wouldn’t be satisfied even if you had a hundred of these things in you.” He slathered lube on his palm, sheathing his cock with more than he’d done the toy, trying his best to make it as easy as he could for Dazai. “I should just leave you here like this all day, huh? Being a cocksleeve for whoever comes over, yeah?” He grabbed Dazai’s hip with one hand, the other guiding his cock to press against his hole. The fit looked impossible.
“Or maybe I’ll keep you exclusively my cockwhore.” Pressure was applied, pressing inward slowly. The brunet gasped at the stretch, glimmering eyes looking upward to watch him carefully. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” Dazai cried, shivering against the sheets.
The pressure increased, sandwiching Dazai further into the sheets as Chuuya began to force himself inside. The constant motion of the machine made penetration slightly easier, allowing Chuuya to continue until he was sheathed halfway inside of him. “You’re doing good, ‘samu.” He whispered, stroking his lower back as he watched his lover breathe. He pushed more of himself inside before slowly starting to thrust, squeezing love handle endearingly. “Such a pretty fucking girl you are… taking both of us like you were made to do it.”
Chuuya leaned forward, letting go of Dazai’s hip to brace his arm on the bed. Soft lips glided against Dazai’s neck, forcing himself deeper inside as thrusts were timed in contrast to the machine’s. Before long, Chuuya’s jerks had grown forceful, listening to the hiccups of Dazai’s throat as he fucked viciously into him. When he began to grow tense, fingers held tighter onto brown hair, other hand bracing itself on Dazai’s wrists, forcing him deeper into the sheets.
“You slut,” Chuuya gasped, leaning down until his lips grazed Dazai’s ear. “You’re close again, aren’t you?”
His hips snap, yanking his hair with a tightly gripped fist. Canines dig into the shell of Dazai’s ear, claiming the territory for his own. “Mack... let yourself go.”
Dazai seizes, back arching against where Chuuya pinned it down. A hoarsely loud squeal clawed out of his throat, something reminiscent of a scream, and Dazai clenches around both of the cocks inside of him, sobbing as his second orgasm of the night slammed into him.
Chuuya quickly let go of his wrists, lowering Dazai’s head to the bed, carefully retreating from inside of him. He then turned to the machine, reducing the setting to its lowest unit to allow the pace to decrease, before inevitably turning it off. Once the machine had stilled, he removed it as he’d done himself, watching as Dazai’s hole fluttered, slightly agape from the large stretch it was subjected to.
A softly sobbing Dazai was carefully untied, mental notes taken of the burns he’d have to tend to later as Chuuya shushed the man, lingering kisses pressed to sore joints.
“I’ve got you, Osamu.” Chuuya whispered, trailing kisses of reassurance to his neck, a final one on Dazai’s drool–covered cheek. It wasn’t like he was conscious enough to remember it, anyhow.
“You did good,” he whispered, stroking the side of Dazai's neck. “Take it easy now.”