Whole Destruction Chapter 3 - Assessment
Themes include fisting, fucking, sucking, rubber, leather and bondage. Average reading time 10 minutes.
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My face was wedged in Max's arse, my tongue buried inside the folds of his juicy trench. This was heaven, giving another guy pleasure but also rewarding the man who had given me so much joy the night before. Oh, and cleaning him up and getting a chance to discover his body in full. I hadn't left an inch of him unexplored. His pecs, his hairy chest, his strong thighs, his bulging biceps... I was now intimately familiar with every detail and it made me want even more. Not least what was in that cage. A thick trail of pre snaked onto the floor, evidently I was doing something right!
But that's when the rubber drones arrived again.
Even given Max's description of his treatment, I wasn't prepared for what they were about to do. We talk about fantasies, read them, wank to them but rarely do we live them. I thought I knew my boundaries but the steel cages, the guards and the cunt gallery had started to wear them down. However, nothing made me ready for what came next. I thought I'd been fisted before, that I knew the intimate pleasures of in-and-out handballing. I hadn't. This was in another league.
My hole is so fucking used right now. I honestly don't know whether it will ever close up again. I've tried to clench, to pucker, but I simply can't. I've reached around to feel myself and I'm actually worried. I'm so puffy and swollen. I don't have an asshole anymore, I have a fully blown-out cunt.
God knows what Max will think. Will he find this attractive? Will he want to use it? Please god, say yes. I'm not sure I could get through the next six months without him finding me desirable.
So, this - I kid you not - is exactly what happened. I can't believe I'm typing it, let alone that I lived it.
The rubber drones pulled the two of us apart and I was led away, naked, with no time to put my overalls back on. I was expecting the same as yesterday, dressed in rubber and then a long line of hard fucks. Or meeting Max's scary carousel. However, this...
I was pushed down the long corridors of cells - wolf whistles and cat calls along the entire way - before being delivered to an extremely hardcore room. Some piece of equipment draped in rubber in the middle? Though not just draped, somehow it seemed to be sitting inside the rubber too? It was big, sizeable. Surely it couldn't be? Was it really a fuck bench? As the drones led me over to an opening - a gasket they wanted me to climb though - I realised that it really was.
When I've hooked up with serious fetish guys I've always loved this kind of equipment. You can be prone and take it from behind like a real man. However, this was different. Some sick motherfucker had taken it to the next level. I was going to be trapped - sealed - inside this thing whilst my ass was obliterated. Why else would you take the time and trouble to create this? It was a seriously complex piece of fetish engineering.
However, as I clambered through and along the bench I discovered unexpected things, like full knee supports and comfortable arm rests. Then, as my head emerged through the tight tunnel, I realised the security of the position I was in. Both neck and ass would form an air-tight seal. That's when the suction started.
For my first real fist experience of the program they'd obviously decided against old-school restraints or `cute' bondage. No, this would be as extreme as possible. Vacuum packed, no less.
I could feel the rubber tightening around my body, the air drawn out, compressing my body. Soon I was bound to the bench by the forces of physics and materials. It was so fucking intense I almost had a panic attack. Heavy, tight, literally hot. I've never felt anything like it. I was fucking trapped - there was no way I could escape this predicament.
It shouldn't have surprised me, but that's when one of the attendant drones attached an anaesthetic mask to my head. It came complete with straps that both circled my head and went under my chin. Clips and buckles secured it in place, and was that the sound of padlocks again? It was intensely intimidating but its tang somehow relieved me. Poppers are my friend and I had no doubt I would need them for whatever came next.
I was beginning to understand just how important that w' was. If this was just' hole destruction then it would be much easier. Not so sophisticated or complicated. However, put the `w' in and everything changes. I realise now there had to be an element of psychological damage. Simply doing a job on my cunt wasn't enough. They had to fuck with my head.
That was why I was in this insanely complicated gig, why I was more trapped than I'd ever been in my entire life. A rig that even hardcore bondage enthusiasts would feel intimidated by. There was no way I could escape or relent. I had to submit. That was the head-fuck. My ass on full and vulnerable display.
After giving me time to stew in my own juices, a full set of rubber drones arrived. A queue formed at my cunt and god, did I get punished. Black latex fist after fist, determined to push my limits.
A mirror allowed me to see the individuals using my hole, but in my mind they all became one long train. It was an almost identical procession of anonymous rubber pigs intent on my corruption. The only way they changed was how much their industrially thick gloves got drenched in lube and my ass juices. Where the tide-marks ended.
Understand now that this wasn't `just' a room with a fuck bench and some clever bondage. Nor was it a long line of fisting drones. No, this was an entire environment. Music, the bass pumped directly into the equipment so you could feel your heart vibrate. Lasers and lights that cut through the darkness. Smoke to disguise the drones and the smell mixing with the aroma fumes. And the sounds of other men being used in the background. Their squeals and sighs became my backdrop.
I've never felt so exhausted and used in all my life. I couldn't escape but what worried me is I'm not sure I wanted to. There's always a moment in a session when you announce you're done, that you can't take anymore. When you're in such extreme bondage, well, that choice is taken away from you. You have to relent, to let it happen, to take it. And I did. I knew this was all so fucking wrong, but... I wanted and needed it. That's what proper fisting does to a boy.
Getting out of the rubber had been an extreme relief - I had almost forgotten what it was like to use my limbs - but the lube freely dripping down my legs as I was guided back to my cell was a sign of just how extreme things had got. At this point in time I honestly felt my thighs were literally just cunt-flaps. If you've said I could take even another finger I would have fucking laughed. I was done, I needed rest, I needed to process just how big my hole had got on only my second day of the program. How would I cope with what came next?
When I returned to the cell my overalls were still on the floor from the night before and I couldn't be bothered to get dressed. I just wanted to climb into bed but that's when Max arrived back. Did they do this on purpose? Is that how they operate?
He was clearly fucked out too. Christ, they must have done a complete number on him. His eyes were glazed but that wasn't the only thing that was transformed. Gone were the orange prisoner garbs and the white boots, now he was in leather. Oh my word, such, sexy, hot leather!
He had the body for it. He had the build for it. He had the presence, the confidence. Dark red stripes ran up and down his perfectly fitting chaps. The power of his upper torso was insanely magnified by a red and white piped black bulldog harness. Thick buckles reinforcing his strength. Bicep bands accentuating his arms. I'm amazed they found straps big enough. And then his head. A classic muir cap (of course) but his stubble had grown out. He looked the total object of my desires. A man to be truly fucked by.
All of that rested with his dick and low-slung balls. Of course I'd seen them, felt them, but nothing prepared me for its erect urgency. Christ, I don't think I've ever seen a dick that hard, veined or clubbed up.
The foreskin pulled back, the helmet so pink you wanted to look after it, the coronal ridge magnificently flared. God knows how that would feel inside! Then the shaft. I mean, I knew he was big, but even then he'd been hiding that he was a grower. A two-handed shaft and so thick my fingertips wouldn't be able to touch my thumbs. To be honest, I was delighted.
However, it was the way he looked at me that really slayed me.
So much fucking compassion and care. There was no time to wonder why he was dressed in leather, or why his cock had been uncaged, or why he so was outrageously rampant before he came into our cell.
I rushed toward him to hug him, to be wrapped in his friendly arms again. He held me, really held me. And yet I could smell him and feel that massive prick pressing against me. Maybe it got even harder? I would have sworn my hole couldn't take a single thing more but in seconds he'd found my butt and was sliding inside. How could it not? I was such an easy target and I wanted him. It. I was a vessel to be fucked, a ship to be serviced.
Oh my god. The feel of his fat, gorgeous dick inside of me? Up till now it had been caged, locked away, but his helmet plundering my cunt was everything. How could I be this used and yet feel so much? His width, his heat, his pain. And by god, it was good. It was great. He long-dicked and power-hammered my hole. Is there anything better than a truly great fuck?
Of course, we're not just talking about a man's dick. We're talking about an entire man's being.
I could feel his heat against my body, the smell of leather and sweat. His massively strong arms holding me down, held by a man so much stronger than me, that was intense. It was entirely different bondage I couldn't escape from. I'd gone from feeling spent to wanting to be used in seconds, just at the sight of him.
I was desperate for him to climax inside me, to drench my fuck tunnel with his spunk. He let the flood gates open and bathed my entire pussy in cum. Jesus. What an experience! After his release he stayed inside of me and I felt him pulsing his dick inside of my hole. Was he still horny or simply trying to push out every last drop of cum into the bucket that was my cunt?
I'm going to say it was him still being horny. Suddenly I got worried about my future and started to doubt myself again. He pulled his dripping dick out of my gaping pussy and waved it in front of my head. Like he was completely punch drunk.
That's when our cell got changed up a gear. Had he always known about this? He pushed a button I hadn't noticed before and one of the walls pulled back and slid away. What was revealed was a space about twice as big as we had before. Dark but studded with spotlights. It almost looked like a club.
In the middle of the room was a low table with two laptops open and blinking at us. Apparently, we 12 hours to spend fifty grand, and only in designated fetish stores that had expedited delivery.
This was the first of many challenges we were going to be set over the next six months. It was made clear that if we didn't use it then we would be punished. How do you punish someone into hardcore sex? Deprivation or flogging.
Deprivation meant you'd be deprived of sex. Fed concentrated Viagra, kept on constant edge, never used. You'd have front row seats to porn premiers and other prisoners being reamed out but your dick and hole were shut, Flogging I don't need to explain. I ain't got time for that shit.
But now I was stuck in a room with a randy and slightly crazy Max. I was exhausted, even if the fresh load had invigorated me. I pulled on my overalls - I couldn't do this naked - and got started. I started to got scared though. Was he buying for him? Or for me?
Rows upon rows of dildos got added to his cart. All in extra-large extreme sizes. Some of them studded. They were crazy. How they hell would my hole cope with those? Or his, was he that fucked up?
Our wardrobes got expanded too, although as soon as I added any leather items - shorts, jocks, chaps - to my basket he swiftly removed them. He was the one who got the custom gear. Armour. Chaps. Jeans. Vests. Christ, he was going to look like a leather warrior.
For me, I kept on getting pushed towards rubber. Always thick, because that bumped up the cost. 50k was a lot to spend in half a day. Fist chaps, body suits (though nothing could match what had already been made for me). Even suits with my nickname on the back. By now, being called PigHole was beginning to fit.
Then came the straitjackets and bondage gear. Jesus, what did he have planned?! I get that he was more experienced than I me, but did we really need a leather, rubber AND canvas SJ? They all looked insane.
And that was before all the cock rings, the metal balls stretchers and the pumps. By now I was done. We'd hit the target and I couldn't be bothered any longer. I retreated to bed, disgusted with myself.
That's when something of the old Max seemed to have returned. He undressed, stripping away all his layers. The leather going into the closets in the `new' room. It was a strip tease. He forced me to watch, sarcastic and flirting all the while. Forcing my attention on him.
He was cocky with it. He knew just how much I appreciated his form and figure. His grin, his smile. That awesome confidence. He stood there, naked, his thick dick fully engorged again. He snapped his fingers and pointed towards it. Even though it was against my better judgement, I couldn't help but jump down to my knees. To serve that amazing piece.
I don't need to say anymore about his girth or length (except they're prodigious) as right now I was concentrating on his unsheathed helmet and his amazing funk. He smelt and tasted so fucking good! God did he feel good on my tongue. We had such a perfect mouth fit that I couldn't get enough.
I worked his dick - tired as we were both - and worked his load direct into my mouth. God, did he shoot! It almost overflowed my lips but he held my head in place to make sure I swallowed it all. Thank the Lord for cum!
Next: Assimilation
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