Page 9 of Branding the Bat

"It's a bat thing." Sero was having trouble forming sentences. His body felt like a live wire, every nerve lit up and humming. The pain was everywhere, a warm constant pulse, and beneath it his cock was dripping onto his own thigh, desperate for something it hadn't been given.

"It's extraordinary." Trevor's voice had dropped low enough to feel. The arrogance was gone, replaced by genuine wonder. He looked up at Sero, and for the first time since they'd met, Sero saw him without the mask of confidence, just a man confronted with something that amazed him. "Do you want to keep going?"

"God, yes. Don't stop."

Trevor returned to the duffle bag. What he pulled out this time was larger and more complex, a device with a thick base and two protruding attachments. One was unmistakably a dildo, black and heavily textured, thick enough that Sero's mouth went dry looking at it. The other was a smaller tube with a soft, ribbed opening.

"What is that?" Sero asked.

"My own design." Trevor was assembling the pieces with practiced efficiency, connecting tubes to the base unit, adjusting settings on a small control panel embedded in the side. "The dildo vibrates and rotates. The tube," he held up the smaller attachment, "goes over your cock. Suction, vibration, variablespeed. Both run off the same controller, so I can synchronize them or offset them depending on what I want." He looked up. "What I want is to make you come so many times you forget your own name. The pain gets you there. The machine keeps you there."

Sero stared at the device. It was ingenious, if terrifying. "You built that?"

"I'm a cat. We're creative when we're motivated." Trevor brought the device over and set it on the floor between Sero's spread knees. "I'm going to need you on your knees for this. Arms still up. Can you do that?"

Sero lowered himself. The handcuffs slid down the pole's ring, accommodating the change in height. On his knees with his arms above his head, he was stretched and open and completely vulnerable. His cock hung heavy between his thighs, still hard, still aching. Trevor knelt in front of him, arranging the machine, and the closeness of his bare chest, the warmth and cedar smell of him, made Sero want to lean forward and press his mouth to Trevor's skin.

"The dildo needs lube. A lot of it." Trevor produced a bottle and was generous, coating the toy until it gleamed. "This is going to be big. If it's too much at any point, color system. Green, yellow, red. Or the safe word. Or the air horn. You have three ways out. Use them."

"Green," Sero’s voice was steady. The rest of him was shaking.

Trevor reached between his legs from behind. One slicked finger pressed against Sero first, not the toy, just Trevor's hand, circling and pressing, opening him up with a patience that made Sero's thighs tremble. A second finger, stretching. Sero dropped his head back against the pole and let out a sound that was mostly vowels.

"That's it," Trevor murmured against his shoulder. "Open up for me."

Then the toy. The first press of the dildo was blunt and enormous, and even with the prep and the lube, Sero's body resisted. He breathed out, forced himself to relax, and felt it slide in, slowly, relentlessly, filling him in a way that made his vision white out at the edges. It was thick. Thicker than anything he'd taken. Every inch of it stretched him wider, and the texture ridged against his inner walls in a way that made his cock jerk and leak a fresh bead of precum onto his thigh.

"Breathe," Trevor’s voice was close, right at Sero's ear, and his hand was firm on Sero's hip. "Don't fight it. Let it in."

Sero exhaled and the last inch seated itself inside him. He felt split open. Impossibly full. The toy pressed against his prostate with a precision that couldn't be accidental, Trevor had angled it deliberately, and the pressure was so perfect it made Sero's cock throb in time with his heartbeat. He groaned, low and broken, and his hips rocked without his permission, trying to fuck himself on the toy.

"Jesus," Trevor breathed. He sounded like he'd been punched. "Look at you."

Then the other attachment, the tube, slid over Sero's cock, encasing him in soft, ribbed warmth. The fit was snug, the interior slick, and the first pulse of suction drew a sound out of Sero that he'd deny later. He was acutely aware of every surface touching him: the cuffs on his wrists, the pole against his back, the toy filling his ass, the sleeve working his cock. He was surrounded. Held. Taken.

Trevor stood and picked up the flogger again.

"Here's how this works," he said. "The machine does what it does. The flogger does what it does. Between them, your body is going to give me everything it has. All you need to do is breathe and let it happen."

He clicked something on the controller.

The dildo began to vibrate.

The sleeve began to pulse.

And Trevor brought the flogger down across his chest.

Everything after that dissolved. Pain and pleasure weren't separate things anymore. They were the same current running through the same wire, and each strike of the flogger sent a jolt through his entire body that the machine amplified and redirected. The dildo buzzed against his prostate in rhythmic waves that made his legs shake. The sleeve worked his cock with a suction that was relentless and obscene, pulling at him with a wet, tight rhythm that had his hips bucking helplessly into it. And Trevor kept hitting him, measured, accurate, each strike landing in a different place than the last, building a web of pain across his chest and stomach and thighs that set every nerve ending on fire.

Sero came the first time without warning. His orgasm slammed through him, sudden, total, a full-body convulsion that ripped a sound from his throat he'd never made before. His cock pulsed hard inside the sleeve, and he could feel it, the machine pulling every drop out of him, milking him through it, drawing out the orgasm until it became oversensitive, until the pleasure crossed back into pain, and then the pain became pleasure again because Trevor was still hitting him and his body couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"One," Trevor said. His voice was calm. Professional. As if he was counting reps at a gym.

The second orgasm came four minutes later. Sero felt it building, a tightening low in his belly, the dildo grinding against his prostate with every vibration, the sleeve sucking him back to full hardness before the sensitivity had even faded. When it hit, he cried out and his whole body jerked against the cuffs, cockspilling into the sleeve again while the toy inside him buzzed him through it.

The third, three minutes after that. By the fourth, Sero was shaking, his thighs trembling, his arms pulling against the cuffs, his entire body caught in a loop of sensation that had no beginning and no end. He could hear himself, moans, gasps, something that might have been Trevor's name, but he couldn't control any of it. He was beyond control. He was in a place he'd never been, a floating, formless space where his body was doing things his mind had no authority over and every orgasm bled into the next like waves crashing on the same shore.

The fifth orgasm was dry. His body convulsed, his cock throbbed hard inside the sleeve, but nothing came out. The sensation was more intense without the release, a cresting wave that never broke, just kept rising, and Sero sobbed with it, his whole body shuddering against the pole.