museyboxy | Thread continuations

Hawke throws his head back with a curse the instant Corbin touches him, his hips trying to buck and thighs tensing violently. All that instinctive struggle gets him nowhere: he's so completely restrained that his hips barely move half an inch, and only that much from how strongly he thrashed at first. Once he's over the initial shock Hawke just shakes, unable to stop himself from trying to squirm and resist every torturous stroke.

"Too much," he whines, pulling at the straps on his wrists and trying (again) to move his hips. With his arms down, his hips, his thighs, he's utterly helpless to so much as wiggle- helpless to fight the nearly unbearable torment of Corbin's thumb. The first brush against the cock-ring makes him cry out softly from an overwhelming burst of raw feeling, so much on his poor, sensitive, much-abused cock. Despite everything, it's getting hard. He's suddenly so hard, though the swelling in his cock feels as much prickling-sting as it does pleasant.

"Please." His heels dig into the table, but he finds no purchase. He's helpless, and tosses his head with a shuddering moan at the thought. "I can't, I can't, it's- oh, oh."

Helpless and at the mercy of two very spritely redheads.

Raegan catched Corbin's glance but she's too busy noticing all of the little details to really respond properly. Every single twitch of muscle catches her eyes, the trembling, the lick of sweat, come and lube all sort of making one glistening mess that proves just how strung out Hawke really is. She watches Corbins hand moving over the huge cock, the glint of the piercing distracting her for a moment from her petting.

And then she cards her fingers through Hawkes hair one more time before leaning in to look over his face; his pupils blown from whatever was in his system. Brushing her lips over his, not really a kiss, once, twice, she hummed, "I'll be careful." It wasn't the sweetest thing to do to someone, especially if it was a first time situation, but even given the situation Raegan promised to not be cruel with this.

Moving away she grabbed the most slender of the sounding devices and looked it over, grabbing the bottle of lube again, "Hold his dick steady, please? We'll try the smaller one first and see what happens."

In a normal situation, Corbin thinks he would stop, give Hawke a break, some time to recover. But that ball is still there in his hand, and the fae would have stopped them if Hawke didn't want this. He has to remind himself of that, that Hawke could stop all of this at any time.

He still wants to kiss him and pet his hair and reassure him, he's surprised that he got hard again, and he wonders for a moment what something like this would feel like, to be this strung out on sex. And he wonders how much more the little rod is going to make him thrash and moan.

"You hold his dick. I'm gonna hold him, he starts thrashing too much and it'll ruin your fun." It's an excuse and he knows it, but it gives him enough of a pause to go back to Hawke's head, pushing his sweat soaked hair away from his face and leaning down to give him another kiss.

"Hey, everything alright?" He knows he looks fucked out, which is part of what has him worried, he's not experienced enough to have seen this before. He glances over at the fae in charge of the whole thing, and the satyr chuckles, coming over to where Hawke is.

"He's fine, young one. He can call his safeword if he wants to stop, or drop the ball if he's too fucked out to say anything." From his tone of voice he's pretty sure that's an option that Hawke is going to use at least once over the course of the weekend. "He'll be taking a break after you two are done with him too, don't worry." He'll pat Hawke on the cheek, not quite a slap, enough to get his attention. "You're worrying the lad, Hawke. Tell him how much you're enjoying yourself hm? I know they haven't fucked out your last bit of brains yet."

"Hey," Hawke complains, making a face and trying to twist away from the fae. It's not distress or anything, he's just giving the fae a little shit for, well, doing that to him. "I'm right here, you know."

Even though his dick is aching and he's only got a handful of brain cells left to scrape together. It's- words is hard. When he turns to look at Corbin, he's still flushed and sweaty, aching and glassy-eyed, struggling to make words into real sentences that make sense.

"I'm alright. So-sorry, I get kind of. Mm. I complain a lot about the- touching after climax." He quirks his lips into a smile, and his voice is hoarse from repeated and prolonged misuse. "Don't worry, I love it. 'S what the ball's for. Or safeword, if my mouth is full." Another smile and he bites his lip as he looks at Corbin- then Raegan, who both look so fucking pretty, all orange and pale and full red lips. "I chose all the toys here. Maker, please, do something- you're killing me."

Impatient.

Her fun. Seriously? When did this become her game? Frowning softly, she shook her head quietly and let Corbin tend to Hawke the way he wanted to, and idly listened as the fae chuckled and spoke to both Hawke and Corbin.

While they were busy, she climbed back onto the table between Hawkes legs and held the sound in one hand while her free hand moved to stroke the larger mans cock a few times, smearing the extra lube over him, making sure that some slipped inside of the little hole at the tip. The alcohol in her system was enough to keep her calm, busy, uncaring of most things, but this wasn't something to be taken lightly.

Wrapping her fingers around Hawkes length, she smoothed her fist almost to the tip to hold him steady as she gave a little hum and slowly began to insert the sound. "Watch," she murmured, but her eyes never left what she was doing. She didn't want to hurt him but there was something oddly satisfying about watching the cool, slick metal as it slid gradually deeper inside of him. "Is it okay?"

Hawke’s thirsty little plea cuts off sharply at the hand stroking him. The oversensitivity is only mostly gone, so it feels incredibly, almost agonizingly good, and he tips his head back with a low groan. There’s lube, slick and cool, and her thumb at his slit drawing out a soft sound. Then her hand tightens and that soft command snaps his attention to her.

Then down to his cock. And then-

“Oh,” he breathes, air leaving him in a rush as his hips try in vain to buck. Lucky that the restraints keep him immobilized, because with how sensitive he still is, this strange feeling might be enough to make him burst. As the rod slips deeper inside him it lights up his nerves that have never been touched before, filling him in a place that’s never before been full, the sight of something breaching his cock so heady he nearly chokes. This is what he did to Barry, and it’s just as intense now- no, far far more, his cock is pulsing in ways he could never have imagined, and he can’t breathe.

She said something. She did. Hawke tries to marshal his wits and bring words to his lips, but when he opens his mouth, nothing at all comes out. He’s drawn tight as a drum from the effort of not thrashing- the bonds hold him still, but he wants badly to flail until even they can’t keep him. The strain of it makes his voice stiff and labored.

“Yes. It-” Breathe. Careful. “So good.”

Oh. So that's what that did. Corbin swallows as he watches the metal rod disappear where he had, alright, sort of figured it was going but... not that easily. It just slides down, and he watches in a dumbstruck sort of fascination, glancing down at Hawke and then back over as the sound continues the slow, inexorable slide down into Hawke's cock. His mouth is dry, and he'd be hard pressed to say precisely why.

He can tell Hawke wants to move, he's straining against the restraints, but he also seems to want it, and okay so that... well that helps Corbin not to worry. Shit. He's still got his fingers in Hawke's hair, petting him as he chuckles, only a little nervous sounding. "Shit." He looks up at Raegan. "So... what do you do with it now? Fuck his cock?" Was that... was that a thing? Okay, so that sounds pretty hot, especially with Hawke there, drawn tight as a bowstring, clearly hungry for more

When there isn't any complaints or urges to stop, Raegan smiles softly and looks up to briefly watch Hawkes face. Pleasure, impatience, a little bit of dumbfounded fascination; they're all written there. She glances down and carefully lets go of the sound for a moment let it slide the last little bit on its own.

"Basically, yes," she responds, content, calm, maybe a little lazy. Part of her wanted to lay beside him and take her time messing with him like that. Maybe one day, if he wasn't against it, she could. She gave his length a slow stroke from base to crown and then back down before her other hand carefully teased the sound up and down a few times, each pass a little different in length, "Do you want to try it?" --she paused with a chuckle and looked up at Corbin, "I mean, to do this. Not have it done to you."

His breaths are shallow and tight as the sound slides home. The last few centimeters, that last little bit, deeper and deeper and oh god so deep, until the ring at the end meets the tip of his cock. He holds himself so still he's almost shaking, barely hearing the conversation around him, gaze utterly locked on the hypnotic sight of his own cock, thick and strainingly full, with the metal ring seated against his slit proof of the intrusion so impossibly deep inside him.

"Oh," he whispers, choking quietly at that single stroke of Raegan's hand. It's so good, so much, that it's fraying the edges of his control. The desire to move is clawing up his throat, an urgent throb that he can no longer ignore the instant Rae moves the sound.

"FUCK!" His head throws back against the table, a cry torn loud and ragged from his throat. All that tension releases at once, the bow-string snapped as pleasure hits him like a freight train, hips bucking and body shuddering from raw need. Only those tight restraints hold him- when he tries to involuntarily thrash and buck his hips, all that happens is them lifting a bit, straining at the straps to rise into the torturous fall of that metal rod.

Corbin can only imagine what that must feel like, and he's curious, but not curious enough to volunteer his dick to get fucked by a metal rod. He chuckles, glancing down at Hawke and then over at Rae. "Yeah, sure. I mean yeah, um not for myself thanks."

But then he's going around the edge of the table, one hand on Hawke, just touching him as he bucks and strains against the restraints, that has to be intense. "Kinda crazy, ain't it?" He takes the little sound and strokes Hawke's cock a few more times, his grip a bit tight, watching the way his foreskin covers the head and then pulls back and he can feel it in his dick, which is just crazy to him. He slide the rod up until it's almost out, and then down until the full length is in Hawke's cock, giving it a little twist on the way back down. He holds his cock steady with his other hand, one thumb rubbing over where he can feel it through the skin.

Raegan watched Hawkes face, fascinated by the reaction. She knew men enjoyed it, if they were brave enough to get past the mental hurdle to do it. She had seen as much. But this close? There was a certain type of thrill she got out of that, that she wasn't ready to admit to herself.

Letting Corbin take the sound, and Hawkes cock into his own hands, she shifted and idly ran her nails up and down the lengths of Hawkes inner thighs, lulled by the little tremble of his muscles and Corbins fascination.

"I think so," she gave a slow nod and grinned softly, "I wonder who just up and decided one day, 'hey, lets put a rod in my cock and see what happens!'." Tipping her head, she dropped one hand further down and fondled his balls instead, "Gets right to the prostate..."

When Corbin takes him in hand, rubbing the place around the sound, fucking his cock in measured movements that are almost agony, the pleasure so intense he wants to cry. Every breath Garrett manages is heaving and shaky, his legs are trembling, his cheeks are flushed bright red. Then Rae starts to touch him, nails and hand and massaging his balls, and he lets out a desperate, wounded sound.

“Oh god,” he half-sobs, feeling himself dragged towards an edge he suddenly needs desperately. “Please, please.”

But he knows they won’t. He knows.

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